Remembering Return of the Living Dead

When I was six I went with my mother to a friend’s house.  This wasn’t unusual as the house belonged to her childhood friend who had twin sons my age who were now my friends.  I spent a significant chunk of my youth with and around that family, so being over at their house was business as usual.

What was not business as usual was the movie playing on this particular day.  Return of the Living Dead had come out the year before and their father had bought a copy of it on VHS just the night before.  And because he was kind of a sick twisted dick, he decided that playing the movie for a group of children ranging from three to 10 would be tons of fun.

The movie terrified me.  I mean, run out of the room screaming into my mother’s arms terrified.  And yet, it was also fascinating.  I’d never seen anything like it, literally.  I’d never seen what I now think of as typical 80s punk look:

A few years later I would try - and spectacularly fail - to replicate some of these looks in an attempt to look radical

A few years later I would try – and spectacularly fail – to replicate some of these looks in an attempt to look totally gnarly

I’d never seen a fully nude woman as Linnea Quigley’s character Trash does about 19 minutes into the film.

I’d never seen zombies or vast amounts of blood and gore and destruction.  I’d never seen a good guy, as I thought of dopey protagonist Freddy, turn bad and proceed to try to murder anyone around him.

The movie marked a lot of firsts for me, but perhaps it is most notable for being the movie that began my fascination with zombies.  Without seeing this movie 27 years ago, would I be working on my Zombies? Zombies! anthology today?  I really don’t think so.

And so when I saw today on Youtube that the entire movie is available streaming on the site, well, I couldn’t resist a walk down memory lane.  I watched the movie for a second time about 10 years ago and after watching it for a third time today I must say it holds up surprisingly well.  In my mind at least, but in my mind it’s been a hokey, silly experience since I was old enough not to be terrified of zombies anymore.

There’s really nothing hugely special about this outside of the morbid humor used at times, “Send more police” but it will always hold a special place in my heart.  It changed my life, which is kind of sad because it’s such a ridiculous movie, but I’m okay with that.  And so here it is in its glorious majesty, Return of the Living Dead

Dispatch, a poem by Andrew Neel

From Hoosier Writers 2012

“As for the metaphysical thoughts, my dear sir, allow me to say that any brain is capable of producing them, it’s just that we cannot always find the right words.”   -Senhor Jose   All the Names (Saramago)

General while enacting your order dated 25 September 19XX
Several men in the trenches began displaying aquatic symptoms
Unexplainable by the camp’s doctor.  General the infection’s spread
Writhes like an electric eel from man to man without distinction.
General my men cannot fight at the bottom of the ocean.
General Pvt. Stevens worries that his uniform conceals his gills.
General everyone is blowing bubbles.  General do you understand
The starfish?  General we refuse to close our eyes for fear
We’ll drown in our sleep.  General there are sharks.
General we’re just floating down here forgotten and tired.
General factions arise: pirates and devotees of Neptune,
Partisans of you General as also those who blame you
For the minnows between their toes and the kelp in their teeth.
General it does seem strange.  General the mermaids’
Seductions distract but we want more, General we deserve more.
Or
Do we?   General I must apologize; General it’s not so bad.
General the ocean contains many wonders.  General
It’s not always cold down here.  General just yesterday
I saw a volcano erupt beneath the sea!  Such lava!
General an octopus produces great art.
General I will explore the Titanic.  General
The ocean contains a very special species of tree.
General some days all I want to do is lay in the coral.
General an ocean circus is not what you’d expect.
General I’m an oceanic jazz man.

General the situation here at the water front is murky.
General we were not born navy men but we will try.
General tell our mothers.  General
We may never walk on land again.

Henry Melton wants to stay in Chicago, hopes for new deal

Henry Melton, the best interior defensive lineman the Bears have had since Tommie Harris blew out his knee, has expressed his desire to stay in Chicago to play for the Bears now and in the future.

Henry Melton at the 2012 Pro Bowl with teammate Julius Peppers.  Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports

Henry Melton at the 2012 Pro Bowl with teammate Julius Peppers. Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports

“Yeah, I’d love to be here long-term.  I like the new coaching staff. It looks like we’re going to be getting back to where we need to be, which is on top, so I’d like to be here long-term. We’ll just see how it goes.”

Melton is also a class act:

“I’m not going to yell about it or anything like that.  I’m just going to come to work, and whatever happens is going to happen.”

Melton had 44 tackles and six sacks last season while only playing in 14 games.  He is the interior rusher the Bears defense has lacked for years and already one of the best in the NFL.

Also of note is that Devin Hester took no snaps with the offense.

“He’ll be spending time totally focused in on being the best returner in the NFL,” said Bears head coach Marc Trestman.

story courtesy of the Sun Times

Trapped, a poem by Aaron J Perez

Today’s poem is a preview from the upcoming Zombies?  Zombies! anthology.  Personally, I never knew zombie poetry was a thing until I decided to accept them for the anthology and received a fair number of entries.  Some were good, some … not so much.  I enjoyed Mr. Perez’s entry and found it ghastly humorous which is all one can ask for in their zombie poetry.

Trapped

It smells in here,
And I’m starving to death,
What a perfect end,
Trapped without breath.

Day 365, 366, 367,
I hope when I die I go to heaven,
Instead I fear I shall become the undead,
Like my friend Wallace, who I shot in the head.
Trapped in a bomb-shelter,
Or as I like to call it tomb,
Only me and Sandy now,
with a baby trapped in her womb

Help isn’t on the way,
I will never see the light of day,
The dead light is all there is too see,
For my turning companion and me. 

I’m down to my last bullet,
And I’m saving that for me,
Got to think of something fast,
Got to kill Sandy before…now I see.

What a splendid idea,
Two birds with one stone,
As soon as she stops breathing,
I shall eat her, flesh and bone.

Day 368, I’m hungry, want more,
Ate every last part of Sandy’s gore,
What else is there to eat in here,
Oh yes, there’s always the baby dear.

Me still hungry,
Feel empty inside,
Want more meat,
Uuuugh.