People from every walk of life have sought out the comfort and answers that can only be found through the wisdom and insight of zombies. Zombies offer the anxious and tormented the solace they need to lead full, happy lives. They harbor no envy or spite for the living, though they, themselves, are not alive. While there is always the constant threat of a full on invasion by the walking dead, for now they are satisfied to provide the services normally rendered by overpriced psychologists and psycho therapists, whatever that means. They do not judge; in most cases the part of the brain that houses judgment, the frontal lobes, has deteriorated from rot. It is nice to know that in this day and age with threats of disease, terrorism, pestilence, and black hole-producing atom smashers that heir imminent ubiquity is there to guide us through our daily turmoil.

Zombies have been enjoying an unprecedented popularity over the last 3-4 years. During this time, they have jumped from the horror genre and landed in comedies, romances, and the extremely fun to say romzomcom. Even as menacing creatures, they are holding the interest of the nation. Max Brooks‘ Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z have become bestsellers, and I am fairly confident that his latest graphic novel will land there as well. Max Brooks now has my dream job of travelling throughout the nation and giving lectures on the university circuit about how to defend against a zombie attack. What is it that drives people to invest much time and thought into these fantasies?

The first thing we need to ask ourselves is what makes zombies different than vampires, mummies, rednecks, etc. The early zombies were slaves to their zombie masters. These Caribbean human shells were reanimated to do the biddings of the one who did the reanimating. Today’s zombies–Romero zombies–are automatons, driven by their own need for flesh, brains, what have you. Unlike vampires and mummies and most other oogeyboogies one doesn’t have to go someplace special to encounter them. One need not go to a gothic castle or old ruins; zombies come to you, and it can happen at any time. I don’t consider fast zombies real zombies so I won’t even discuss them, but Romero zombies are effective because of the sheer number of them. They lumber and stagger, but they are inevitably going to reach you. You will have to run, fight, or die. Their sluggardly gait only works to increase tension step by plodding step.

Zombies, however, are easily defined as problems. There is little doubt about what one needs to do to live to see another day when a zombie attack occurs. It is easy to understand that one must repel or circumvent the herd. Romero has given us distinct rules to follow: zombies are slow and it is fairly easy to walk past a small group, they must have their brains destroyed, once bitten you will become a zombie. Unlike our modern problems, zombie invasions are objective and the outcome is predictable. It is far easier for us to deal with the predictability of zombie hordes rather than the unpredictability of the myriad problems we face on a daily basis. And unlike real problems, we are offered a survival guide courtesy of Max Brooks. As a society, we internalize the barrage of daily angst that we are fed by the media and either allow it to fester and grow or become desensitized. Zombie films allow us to live vicariously through the protagonists and deal with the predicament thrust upon them. We know the rules and we can figure out all of the answers of overcoming their dilemmas. We know we must run to the second floor and demolish the stairs, get to a remote area, or barricade ourselves in somewere unitl the zombies have all been killed. These troubles are surmountable and once the day is won, it is won, and we can find comfort in knowing that the next day will be better–zombie-free.