Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Even Celebrity Zombies Deserve Death
Someone remade Ghostbusters as an avant garde short film. Fatso, Jerk Store, and I went to see it at The Vista. Bill Murray was in it, but that was the only original cast member. There were a lot of wink-wink hipster nods within the story. At least, that's what I interpreted from the character of Elliot Smith. He wasn't some ghoulish Slimer-esque spectre, but that would've been really funny/tragic. Just a guy who knew Peter Vakeman. No ghosts got busted in the film's twenty minutes.
After the movie, I walked into a two story suburban home entirely made from IKEA. "Whatever you do, don't touch them", this guy with a baseball bat warned me. Zombies were invading. I grabbed a bat too and started swinging. The guy covered the downstairs, I secured the second floor. They went down surprisingly easy. "Pussies", I thought. They foamed green and I didn't feel guilty about destroying them... until Zombie Christina Ricci attacked. It wasn't like I felt bad 'cause we were buds. I just sympathized for the obvious end of her career.
I tried just pushing her around with the bat, hoping that'd deter her. It didn't. So finally I clubbed her in the face and that was that. Except. In the pushing I touched her curdled skin. Warmth and dizziness came over me. I looked in the mirror and saw my zombie-turning mug and awoke.
Someone remade Ghostbusters as an avant garde short film. Fatso, Jerk Store, and I went to see it at The Vista. Bill Murray was in it, but that was the only original cast member. There were a lot of wink-wink hipster nods within the story. At least, that's what I interpreted from the character of Elliot Smith. He wasn't some ghoulish Slimer-esque spectre, but that would've been really funny/tragic. Just a guy who knew Peter Vakeman. No ghosts got busted in the film's twenty minutes.
After the movie, I walked into a two story suburban home entirely made from IKEA. "Whatever you do, don't touch them", this guy with a baseball bat warned me. Zombies were invading. I grabbed a bat too and started swinging. The guy covered the downstairs, I secured the second floor. They went down surprisingly easy. "Pussies", I thought. They foamed green and I didn't feel guilty about destroying them... until Zombie Christina Ricci attacked. It wasn't like I felt bad 'cause we were buds. I just sympathized for the obvious end of her career.
I tried just pushing her around with the bat, hoping that'd deter her. It didn't. So finally I clubbed her in the face and that was that. Except. In the pushing I touched her curdled skin. Warmth and dizziness came over me. I looked in the mirror and saw my zombie-turning mug and awoke.
