08 May 2009

Cover Entry, 5.8.2009

This blog serves as a record of the (totally fictitious) events occurring at the University of Missouri between April 15 and 19, 2009. Mass panic incited some residents to arm themselves and turn on friends and classmates in the streets in some kind of game; locals called it “Humans Versus Zombies.” This web record serves as repository for the journal of one student who escaped from the event, as well as other materials she has collected: interview questions, a map of the conflict, and an historical overview of the zombie. These documents were massed in an apparent attempt to understand the reasons behind HvZ, and to prepare for another such “invasion”. As the original author is unavailable for contact, it can only be assumed that she was acting as a student of folklore, watching the culture of the game world grow over the course of several days, and exploring the reasons 2009 is a ripe year for zombie legend-telling.

This is the most complete known record of the Columbia incident, with Web addresses and archives forwarded to our offices late in the timeline. The writer's current location and status are unknown.


Jay Nichols
Intern, Dept. Homeland Sec.
5.15.2009



Contents:


a. Cultural Analysis: Zombie Evolution

b. Post-Invasion Interview

c. Conflict Map: Choke Points and Hot Spots

d. "Diary of the Dead" Event Journal




To follow the invasion chronologically, click here and click on "Newer Post" at the bottom of the page to navigate to the next entry. Read More......

29 April 2009

Reflection (out-of-character)

This topic allowed for a lot of fun, and very different, experiments in writing. First, it was a “living” subject: throughout the journaling process, I had to focus on recording events primarily, and then could move on to my own reactions. Creating interview questions and speaking to players of the Humans versus Zombies game was a lot of fun (even if the interview audio was not ready to be posted by the due date of the multi-genre project); the map was constructed from much of the material I gained from interviews, and through the culture that sprang up during the game. (People very seriously discussed events like “the Mark Twain Massacre” and a hero called “The Fox”—it was an interesting world to explore.)

This blog will be a great resource in my continuing study of the HvZ game, and its folkloristic implications (a discussion too long and specific for this project). Besides organizing and learning more about the material I will be analyzing, I also gained a lot of practice with online publishing and coding. Before creating a zombie map, I had not heard of CommunityWalk; I had also not begun to explore the possibilities Blogger offered. I did learn more about the genres and modes of writing in this project, while getting a deeper understanding of my topic (zombies in general, as well as HvZ). Creating a frame that echoed the pieces inside of the project was the most fun; playing along with this world in different formats was much more fun than dispassionate reporting.

I’m already preparing for the game next fall... Read More......

Zombie Evolution (Part III of III)

Twilight: Zombies After the Millennium



If there is a fight for survival in Romero’s Night of the 1960s (continuing through the 1980s with Dawn and Day of the Living Dead), humans are on the losing side by the year 2000. The new millennium brought zombie horror back in vogue, with films like 28 Days Later, Resident Evil, and Quarantine. Even Romero’s revenants are given a makeover with a remake of Dawn and the addition of Land and Diary of the Dead to his collection. Interestingly, these ghouls have evolved along a common path. Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later exemplifies the new zombie: no longer shambling, empty-eyed ghasts, easily defeated or outsmarted in small numbers, the zombies of the 2000s are quicker, gorier, and more dangerous than their elders . Instead of coming from voodoo or outer space, these creatures are the product of human ambition. Scientists attempting to control human nature have seen their efforts spiral out of control, and a plague of “Rage virus”-ridden zombies soon take over Great Britain. Since the 1960’s, more of science has become known; now, the true danger lies within human misuse of that science, whether intentional or not. The roots of this Rage virus lie in attempts to reduce violent tendencies in humans (Niles 2007); it is ultimately released by a radical animal-rights activist, who unwittingly opens the cage of an infected lab monkey. Fears of the age are certainly reflected in this new zombie mythology. HIV/AIDS was in the forefront of public consciousness in the late twentieth century, as misinformation flourished . The confusion of the terms “communicable” and “contagious” led people to believe that it could be spread by casual contact; individuals who had contracted the condition were stigmatized, or else lived with the secret (Bourke 306, 307). “Homosexuals, heroin users, Haitians and hemophiliacs” were considered to be at highest risk for the disease; due to this selectivity, some questioned the possibility of government involvement or aims of extermination (Bourke 307). Such an “experiment” had been conducted in the past, with the Tuskeegee syphilis study, and seemed within the realm of possibility. Science and scientists’ motives could not be trusted; this theme becomes readily apparent in films like 28 Days Later, where experimentation (coupled with unknowing action, on the part of the activist) leads to disaster.

There is an echo of Frankenstein in this: the “continual food for discovery and wonder” in science leads only to remorse (Shelley 46). Like the monster in Shelley’s horror tale, the zombie has become a “Nemesis,” meant to reestablish the equilibrium humans have upset by dabbling in science. Boyle uses soldiers in what may be the last human stronghold to present this idea: “If you look at the whole life of the planet, we... you know, man, has only been around for a few blinks of an eye. So if the infection wipes us all out, that is a return to normality” (Boyle 2002). The leader of this operation, Major Henry West, also discusses normality, though in a slightly different way.
This is what I've seen in the four weeks since infection. People killing people. Which is much what I saw in the four weeks before infection, and the four weeks before that, and before that, and as far back as I care to remember. People killing people. Which to my mind, puts us in a state of normality right now. (Boyle 2002)

The monkeys initially infected with “Rage” are shown strapped to a chair and watching television news images of violence and war; the plague itself, then, may be nothing but a natural effect of the world humans have created. Especially in the early 2000’s, fears of attack were high. Following September 11, 2001, Americans were especially anxious about the next “big attack”; and especially terrified because the group directly responsible for the attack (the hijackers) was so small. An interesting parallel may be drawn between the activists who release the infection, and the attackers of 9/11; both small groups, both radical believers in a cause and an action which created unimaginable suffering, for themselves and the world. After the attacks, “[t]he possibility of wide-scale destruction and devastation which 9-11 brought once again into the communal consciousness found a ready narrative expression in the zombie apocalypse which over thirty years had honed images of desperation, subsistence and amoral survivalism to a fine edge” (Dendle 55). Fear of the end of the world was close to the surface, because the world as it had been had ended for Americans. Many of the suppositions and underpinnings of their culture had been attacked: the safe places and structures (government, commerce, transportation) of a country not attacked on native soil since its birth were no longer so safe. Fear of biological warfare reached a fever pitch during this time, as “anthrax scares” moved throughout the country, and possibly into homes via the mail system. This worry is specifically reflected in many of the zombie films of the 2000s: along with 28 Days Later, there is also Resident Evil, Planet Terror, and even Romero’s works.

Instead of hunger, the primary drive of these creatures is mindless hatred—the only line spoken by one of the “Infected” (Boyle’s term) is “I hate you” (Boyle 2002). This also bears a striking resemblance to the motivations of modern terror attacks, described as Middle Eastern “rivers of rage” (italics added). Muslims felt anger at the United States’ support of Israel and corrupt regimes, a deep humiliation at their culture’s falling behind in the world, and anger at their own governments’ oppression; these are the “rivers” which brought some Muslim radicals to action (Friedman 2003). Boyle’s choice of motivation for his monsters is not coincidental, but tied to a state of “normality” which includes this hatred and violence. There are no more “safe” places: homes, business places, even national defense centers were vulnerable to this new kind of warfare—no longer the fear of a lone stranger or rapist, suddenly a war was on American doorsteps. Without warning, “it wasn’t on the TV any more. It was in the street outside. It was coming in through your windows” (Boyle 2002). The monsters were real, and actively seeking to infect others with their rage. It is not the twilight of the zombie, but the twilight of humanity.


Throughout the evolution of the zombie, several themes have been apparent: a fear of the unknown (voodoo witchcraft) developed into a fear of the scientific unknown (outer space), which then mutated into anxieties about manipulation of scientific knowledge we do not fully understand (the viral zombies of the 2000s). Dealings with the stranger have always come into question, as has the safety of the home, family, and friends—a loved one may have been human, but once turned into a zombie, must be dealt with coldly. These fears have been crescendoing, as well as changing. In the dawn of the zombie, the creatures were mostly isolated and unthreatening on their own; the true threat lay in their human master, an individual who needed to be dispatched. By the time day is reached, the zombie has broken free of its chains, and is a threat because of its hunger and increasing numbers. Romero’s creations still allow humans some hope, however: bands of armed men clear out the hills in Night, and a small group manages to escape the horde in Dawn of the Dead. Contemporary zombie movies are much less optimistic. 28 Days Later does leave three survivors with hope of rescue at its conclusion, but its sequel 28 Weeks Later implies the spread of the virus throughout Europe, with a closing shot of Infected running towards the Eiffel Tower. Even Romero’s continuation of his series looks desperate: the Land of the Dead is not a promising place for humanity. Whether or not it is the future we are moving towards in reality is unclear, but the fear is as visceral as its shambling (or running), hungry (or angry) representation.


WORKS CITED


  • “Restavék Campaign.” 01 May 2007. National Coalition for Haitian Rights. 19 March 2009 < http://www.nchr.org/hrp/restavek/overview.htm>.

  • American Cultural History: The Twentieth Century. 2 September 2008. Lone Star College Kingwood Library. 9 February 2009 .

  • Bourke, Joanna. Fear: A Cultural History. Emeryville, California: Avalon Publishing. 2006.

  • Boyle, Danny, dir. 28 Days Later. Fox Searchlight Pictures, 2002.

  • Boyle, Danny, dir. 28 Weeks Later. Fox Atomic, 2007.

  • Dendle, Peter. “The Zombie as Barometer of Cultural Anxiety” Monsters and the Monstrous: Myths and Metaphors of Enduring Evil. Ed. Niall Scott. New York: Rodopi, 2007 (45—56).

  • Friedman, Thomas. Searching for the Roots of 9/11. Discovery Channel. 2003. (transcript on cnn.com)

  • Halperin, Victor, dir. White Zombie. United Artists, 1932.

  • Jones, E. Michael. Monsters From the Id: The Rise of Horror in Fiction and Film. Dallas: Spence Publishing Company, 2000.

  • Métraux, Alfred. Voodoo in Haiti. Trans. Hugo Charteris. New York: Oxford University Press, 1959.

  • Niles, Steve. 28 Days Later: The Aftermath. New York: Fox Atomic Comics, 2007.

  • Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Spirit Cult in Hayti.” Journal de la société des américanistes 20.1 (1928): 157—179.

  • Romero, George A. Night of the Living Dead.

  • Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft. Frankenstein, or, The Modern Prometheus.

  • Adler, Shawn. “Danny Boyle on ’28 Months Later’: It’s Not Called ’28 Months Later’!” [Weblog Entry.] MTV Movies Blog. MTV News. 12 November 2008. 19 March 2009. < http://moviesblog.mtv.com/2008/11/12/danny-boyle-on-28-months-later-its-not-called-28-months-later/ >.


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Zombie Evolution (Part II of III)

Day: Romero’s Living Dead



1968 brought with it an unknown director named George A. Romero, and a small film titled Night of the Living Dead. Both would bring zombies into the full light of public consideration. For unknown reasons, the recently deceased have risen, and begun attacking and eating the living. The film revolves around a small group of survivors holed up in a farmhouse during the first night of the incident; the power dynamics in this group are fascinating, but just as interesting are the ghouls outside their door. Gone are the biddable, blank-eyed zombis of Voodoo lore: the figures have no apparent goal other than eating the living, and no apparent master but their own instinct. No one knows where they have come from (suggests of a “Venus probe” are bandied about on the television, but no concrete explanation is ever found), when they will leave, or how the world outside may be different in the morning.

As the element of witchcraft evaporated from zombie lore, new details were invented and new fears represented. Rather than being controlled by a ganga, the zombie was now subject only to the force of its own hunger. This made it a more abstract terror, and one more difficult to banish. Rather than confronting a single evil individual, characters were now pitted against a ravenous zombie horde. Their hunger for human flesh may be indicative of anxieties held about the nature of man in years following the optimism of Enlightenment. The l8th-century movement, as it took the first steps towards modern-era beliefs, sought a “total integration of man in nature, with refusal of any transcendence,” eliminating the need for morals which alienated man from his nature (Jones 5). By bending to natural morality, rather than created Judeo-Christian ideals, man might reach a state of perfection and harmony. Ideally,
everything is in response to need—mechanically...like a tree or machine. Man merely carries out natural forces—without any freedom whatsoever—in all he does, whether he loves or hates, helps or hurts, gives life or takes it. (Jones 5)

The zombie is the fulfillment of this ideal. It is simplified to a single drive—hunger—and advances without emotion, fear, fatigue, or sympathy. Being cannibalistic only increases the purity of a zombie’s purpose: humans are all “submitted to the same laws” (5); in this case, natural laws of predator and prey.

Zombies are an incomprehensible force of nature in other ways. By the 1960’s, the control and knowledge promised by scientific advancement (a promise left over from the Enlightenment era of reason) were beginning to flicker. The Space Race of the 1950’s continued, putting man in space by 1961 (Alan Shepherd) and in orbit by 1963 (John Glen) (American Cultural History). As scientists reached further out, it became clear that their understanding did not extend the distance of their designs; even now, a relatively tiny amount is actually understood about outer space. Anxieties about the limitations of science, and specifically space exploration, spurred fascination with zombies—beings that defied all practical scientific explanation—and especially ones which might be caused by a “Venus probe” (Romero 1968).

At the same time that science was stretching out, the landscape of America was shifting as well. After World War II ended, soldiers returned and the country experienced a population boom. The 1950’s brought the birth of suburbia, as World War II veterans returned home to government-aided mortgages outside of cities, and the creation of a viable network of highways (American Cultural History). People were more spread out than they had been in crowded city-centers, traveling longer distances between friends, family, and work. Other effects are implicit in this shift in living. Houses more removed from each other (and from police forces who may be of immediate assistance) “have become defensive: they keep the neighbors out, they conceal, they separate” (Dendle 50). American fears of their own neighborhoods were high. The Gallup Organization began including public opinion questions on crime in the early 1960’s, and found that “between 50 and 60 percent of women were afraid to walk alone at night on streets near their own home” in 1965 and 1972 polls (Bourke 334). This fear was more prevalent in women than men (with under one-fifth of men afraid of the same streets), likely a result of female “powerlessness [being] stroked by media reporting which consistently portrayed women as vulnerable in public places” (Bourke 333). Though women were likelier to alter their behavior in response to this unease, the message was clear to everyone: strangers could not be trusted. The safety of one’s own home was suddenly under question, as their effectiveness as “defenses” were evaluated. Barbra’s choice of fortress does not seem to suggest a positive image of home-as-defense; it holds off the ghouls for some time, but they break in during moments of distraction. Both a stronghold and a strong, attentive guard are needed to survive the anxieties of the 1960s, and Romero’s reinvention of the zombie genre.

Continue reading Part III.

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Cultural Analysis: Zombie Evolution (?) (Part I of III)

[Also pulled from site archives. Conflict-specific notes accompanied every section, but were especially focused on the final "Twilight" discussion...unfortunately, these files were too corrupted to include. The following is the recovered, main text of the document.]



Development of the Dead: Zombie as Evolving Legend & Cultural Negotiation


Few monsters are in such high demand in 2009 as the zombie. Video games, films, board games, and even survival guides are published on the approaching “zombie apocalypse”; despite being terrified of the walking dead, many people (myself included) devour zombie culture as quickly as it is generated. This fascination may certainly be part of the “post-apocalyptic...fantasies of liberation” (Dendle 54), as we play games of what-if and evaluate our homes for effectiveness at holding off a fantastical zombie attack. However, the living dead are also representative of our deeper fears of the unknown, science, safety, strangers, war, and our future; there is a need to examine them from a safe distance (preferably from the roof of a fortified safe-house with the proper weapons, supplies, power sources, and reading material).

The evolution of the zombie may be traced in three main stages: Dawn, the inception of the zombie legend in folklore and film, beginning in Haiti; Day, when the (Western) public’s full attention was first turned on zombies, and the mythos surrounding them began to take its own form; and Twilight, as the culture surrounding the zombie has become darker and more complex, and the outlook of human opponents more bleak. There are many films and cultural phenomena within and between each of these main periods, but considering the zombie’s lifespan in larger categories allows for a broader consideration of the legend.


Dawn: Haiti, Vodoun, and the White Zombie


The origin of the zombie lies in Haiti, in the Vodoun spiritual tradition. Vodoun (or “voodoo”), is a mixture of African-origin beliefs and rites with Catholic traditions, and is practiced widely among peasant and working-class peoples in Haiti (Métraux 15). Black magic, though not the guiding principle of Vodoun, is acknowledged within the religion; and it is here that the zombi lives. This creature is regarded as “the living dead—corpses which a sorcerer has extracted from their tombs and raised by a process which no one really knows” (Métraux 282). Enslaved by a ganga or hungan (priest/healer, or in black magic, a sorcerer), the zombi’s soul & consciousness are stolen; its will is supplanted by its master’s (Parsons 47). At this point in their development, zombis were nothing more than entranced (if deceased) humans—they did not eat human flesh, but normal food, minus anything containing salt (which was believed to wake them) (Métraux 283). However, in the removal of his will, one did cease to be human and became zombi. It was possible for a ganga to transform his zombi into any form—a stone, a cow, or a pig—if he desired. A transformed zombi might be killed and sold at market: “[i]t is zombi flesh, not human flesh, that is so disposed of” (Parsons 179). This misunderstanding of the cultural line between human and non-human led to the “alleged cannibalism [of Haiti, and] as a result several writers denounced Voodoo as a cannibal religion and from their writings Haiti came to be regarded as a savage country” (Métraux 16).

The zombi made its first appearance in Western film in White Zombie, a 1932 production starring Bela Lugosi as the dark sorcerer responsible for the undead. Pale and detached, the zombies here are simply the slaves of “Murder” Legendre (Lugosi), who, interestingly, is a white Voodoo practitioner. Still unmistakably strange and untrustworthy, his whiteness allows another European to approach him with the request to murder and reanimate a victim (Nell, an engaged woman coveted by Charles Beaumont, her casual acquaintance). This delineation of race also echoes the power structure of Haiti, where slavery has always been part of the national fabric the “zombie stands out clearly as symbol of the disempowered, the abject, the truly ‘native’” (Dendle 47). In one of the most memorable and terrifying scenes of the film, viewers are taken through Legendre’s sugar mill. Zombies work blankly, adding to their master’s power with no will of their own. Eerie within themselves, the creatures seem to represent an “alienation of the worker from spiritual connection with labour and from the ability to reap reward from the product of labour” (Dendle 46)—an issue pertinent both in Haiti and in an America dealing with the effects of the Great Depression. The value of “hard work”—a cornerstone of the American attitude—suddenly came into question, as the savings and rewards of lifetimes of hard work had disappeared in the collapse of the economy (American Cultural History). A zombie’s pure focus on survival and raw labor resonated with the anxieties and attitudes of the time, as the cause in both cases was perceived to be a powerful, exploitative, strange individual (Legendre, or fiercely capitalist ideals). In White Zombie, the exploited can only be saved by the faith of her fiancée and the aid of missionary Dr. Bruner; the United States’ rescue would also have to come from the people’s faith and external aid.

Continue reading Part II.

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Zombie interviews.

[The following was recovered and transcribed from audio files found in the site archives, and placed in what appears to be chronological order in relation to other events/materials. -J.N.]


[A bump as the recorder is set on the table.]

Questioner: There, it's on.

Subject: Great, that's good.

Q: Let's begin. How did you decide to play Humans versus Zombies on campus? Why are you playing?

S: The word spread to me through Facebook, and also through a professor’s announcement in an urban legends class. I’m kind of a geek when it comes to zombies, and thought it sounded like a lot of fun! Besides, this was a chance to try out all of the strategies my friends and I sit around and come up with. (Like I said, geek.) At least, it was all fun and games until people started dying...

Q: I understand. I do notice that you've survived. Did you develop any strategies?

S: My main strategy was staying beneath notice. Most of my friends live off-campus, and I don’t live with anyone who shares my course schedule, so I was on my own most of the time. I tried to avoid crowded areas, or places I could get cornered (like the 6th Street construction project). I also tended to walk around with my Nerf gun drawn and with socks at the ready, scanning for bandannas. There wasn’t much aimless strolling during zombie week, either.

Q: Did you have any especially memorable moments?

S: I had my first real zombie encounter on Friday [two days into the game]. Walking from class to class, I accidentally turned down Hitt Street in front of Memorial Union. Bad idea—it was so crowded, and impossible to keep an eye on everyone at once. A friend was walking next to me and talking while I searched the crowd. A guy wearing a bandanna ninja-style (or zombie-style) was walking about ten yards behind me; I spotted him first, and kept my sock arm cocked as he came closer. He looked a little confused, so I asked him if he was played. There was a slow “yes...” and he began to lunge, but I had already nailed him with the sock. (He said later if I hadn’t stopped to ask, he wouldn’t have hesitated to tag me!) I didn’t have long to celebrate, though, as a team of two zombies came up from the other direction, spotted me immediately, and began to grin. I ducked into Memorial Union and hid in the bathroom until the next classes had begun, then left via a side exit.

Q: What were you hoping to get out of the game?

S: I wanted to have a little fun, be forced outside to play for a while each day, and observe what other people did during an exercise like this. Getting caught up in the missions was a blast, though I wish I had done more of the embedded journalism I first pictured. It was too difficult to carry a camera and ammunition at the same time.

[Pause.]

I started out doing it as a way to spend time with friends, but that backfired.

Q:What was your first zombie experience (pre-game)?

S: As a kid, I read the strategy guides in video game magazines for things like Resident Evil, and got such a good chill from them. Zombies were my stress dream material for years, but when books like The Zombie Survival Guide came out and I began to dream myself effectively barricading houses and organizing survivors, the monsters became less stressful and more a fun scare.

Q:Why do you think zombies are so popular now, as a horror monster?

S: They seem to be really taking off in an older teenager/young adult crowd, so I’m right in the middle of the craze right now. Zombies remove order, they take away the government and adult figures that used to tell you what to do. Suddenly, there’s opportunity to build your own fort, supply it the way you like, create endless designs that are crucial to survival—because zombies are deadly, too. They’re liberating and dangerous at the same time, which is kind of what growing up is like, too. Not as much fun when they're chasing you in real life, as opposed to on the screen, though.

[A few moments of silence follow, then a click as the recorder is switched off.]

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28 April 2009

Lessons learned.

To keep this kind of a tragedy from occurring again, I'm compiling a sort of zombie archive on this site. History, tips, and a way to understand what's happened here.

The first addition to this archive, besides this journal, is a map. If this ever happens again, perhaps it will be of some help. Perhaps.

To navigate, click on the "Categorized Markers" tab in the top right-hand corner of the map, and from there navigate by the three headings: Red Zone, Danger Zone, and Battle. Red Zones are areas (usually residences) saturated by zombies. One should always use caution when approaching these areas, if anyone is left to return to Columbia. Danger Zones are less overrun by the living dead, but may give the living few options for cover or exits. Battle markers denote locations of important fights in the war to survive. Click on the name of a marker to zoom to that marker, and access a description, photo, and overall danger rating.

CommunityWalk Map - Places of Interest in HvZ 2009
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