Author: Jae

Zombies have become such a popular concept in popular culture that it is now ubiquitous as an entire genre of media: be it literature, film, or interactive. However as a tool for effective storytelling, different zombies serve different purposes. Rarely are the zombies the actual cause for discussion, rather we tend to focus on characters that have yet to become zombies. Interestingly, when Dr. Sample assigned the first two episodes of Dead Set to us, he remarked that it involved ‘fast zombies’. The development of the zombie genre has allowed for a crude classification of these undead flesh eaters. The immense diversity in zombie depictions have created film classics such as Shaun of the Dead and 28 Days Later, two movies that could not possibly be more different in tone.

So ‘zombie’ serves as a sort of umbrella term. Judging whether zombies are haunted or not might not be as simple as one might expect. In determining this, one must consider not only the zombies themselves, but also how they are depicted in the medium as well. Did the viewer/reader know the infected before they turned? Are there vivid descriptions of their faces, their eyes, and other things that one would normally associate with being human? If so, the answer is likely yes. Some of the most disturbing depictions of zombies are when the zombie itself retains a part of their former life, such as particular idiosyncrasies– a facial twitch, a walking gait, or a particular location. The undead husk invokes memory of the once living human, and both the remaining characters and the viewer are haunted.

In Shaun of the Dead, the zombies are slow and dumb, and are often dispatched with cricket bats blows to the head. While the viewer sees former friends turned zombies, the interactions are brief, which perhaps contributes to the levity of the film. The zombies simply serve as a plot device that spurs character development, which also agrees with the generally comical tone of the film. On the other hand, Consider Dead Set. The viewer is given at least a brief introduction to quite a few characters before they turn–this feature is a privilege that an episodic format allows due to its longer total length compared to say, standalone films. Perhaps this is why one of the most critically acclaimed zombie works, The Walking Dead, is a television show while the best zombie movies tend to slashed-type hack ’em ups. One thing is for certain–when you talk about zombies, be sure you know exactly what you’re talking about.

 

 

Psychosis is a morbidly fascinating subject present throughout the genre of horror. What makes it so captivating might be the sickening display of otherworldliness that the mentally ill are capable of producing. Their actions are so irrational and nonsensical that they become the source of horror themselves–partly why word salad may be so creepy. We like to see ourselves in control, and seeing such behavior might induce the fear of losing this control, to succumbing to some of sort of dormant, even alien, influence.

However, the most popular horror feature of them all seems not to be the psychosis itself, but rather the process of losing one’s sanity. There is something about the ‘descent into madness’ that is even more fascinating. So many famous pieces of literature and art explore this journey. Famous examples in literature include Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper” and various works of Edgar Allen Poe. This subject is even more popular in film, with movies such as The Shining (which itself was originally a novel) having a special place in the ‘inexplicably terrifying journey of watching an everyman turn insane’ category.

In Paul Tremblay’s A Head Full of Ghosts, we see young teenage Marjorie slowly fall victim to mental illness from the perspective of her young sister Merry. This is recorded not only by Merry’s early childhood memories but also a small digital camera that she receives from Ken, a friend on the set of the reality TV  show that preys on her family’s unfortunate predicament. There is a compelling juxtaposition of what Merry is able to see hear and what the camera is able to capture. While at times both Merry and the reader are left unsure of what exactly she has seen, the one occasion in which she shows what she recorded to Ken reveals solid truth. With Marjorie falling into what appear to be schizophrenic tendencies, it is difficult to take any part of Merry’s recollection as undistorted by time, outside influences, and even her own desires.

The digital camera obviously contrasts starkly to the organic, shifting nature of memory. However, according Merry she and her sister apparently manipulate it into ‘evidence’ that she is possessed. While the advent of digital technology and recording devices seems to beckon the doing away with drifting memory and bias, we instead see the opposite: digital technology has provided a means of influencing perspective that has become even more convincing than before.

 

When distinguishing between robots and humans, one trait is discussed without fail: consciousness. The digital age has allowed for unprecedented expansion into the novel field of artificial intelligence (AI), but with its advancement come some startling implications. If an artificially created being is truly intelligent in that it may think for itself and learn, could it be considered ‘conscious?’ In this case, consciousness refers to the phenomenon which only we ourselves may be sure we experience. When a human touches a fur rug, there is a peculiar sensation that accompanies this act. The inherent difficulty in detecting true consciousness is that a sufficiently powerful AI would mimic it flawlessly.

However, if this experience can be quantified, studied, and replicated, it would have serious ramifications on our current definitions of sentience. For those who believe that consciousness is an entirely materialistic phenomenon—that is, our perception of reality is due to the complex molecular, and even quantum interactions that occur according to natural laws inside of our bodies—the answer seems to be yes. The underlying assumption here is that then given a powerful enough computer, consciousness could be artificially replicated. There are compelling arguments, however, that suggest that consciousness stems from something unquantifiable by physical methods (see: Mary the neuroscientist and the knowledge argument).

Suppose then that consciousness is indeed due to physical causes, and that the materialists are correct. Besides the obvious ethical consequences of creating immortal, sentient beings, many more interesting situations are possible. If the mind is a sum of information, then that information may be stored, copied, and replicated. In Netflix’s Black Mirror season 2 episode 1, “Be Right Back“, the protagonist Martha finds herself in a similar predicament. However, Black Mirror’s version of what may be called a neural upload is clearly dystopian, as her husband Ash Starmer’s duplicate displays several unsettling behaviorisms through an evidently rudimentary product. While the episode superbly demonstrates the potential downfalls of an imperfect neural upload, the point remains that Martha’s main point of dissatisfaction was that the replicate was incomplete. The viewer is left unsure of how Martha would have reacted should the replicate have been a carbon copy of Ash.

Neural uploads would include all of the subject’s flaws as well. But since data is divisible, why not pick choose the best qualities? Source: xkcd.com/1666/%5B/caption%5D

Examples of this hypothetical pervade popular culture as well. In Marvel’s Captain America, Arnim Zola is a Nazi and Hydra scientist who uploads his consciousness onto a supercomputer upon discovering his terminal illness. This character seems to retain all of his thoughts, desires, and emotions in a digital form. William Gibson’s Neuromancer, the father of cyberpunk novels, not only deals heavily with sentient artificial intelligence but also involves Dixie Flatline—a character long ‘dead’ but preserved in a computer. The list goes on, and the numerous examples often begin to demonstrate the ramifications of different degrees of success in neural uploads.

Arnim Zola as depicted in Captain America 2: The Winter Soldier. Source: vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/marvelcinematicuniverse/images/1/18/Catws_03787.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150304193103%5B/caption%5D

We consider the extreme ends of the spectrum: what if when Ash had died and Martha ordered a replacement, a molecule-by-molecule reconstruction of Ash was shipped to the small country cottage? The digitalization of consciousness seems to trivialize death, something that paradoxically defines life. Something fundamental to the human experience is lost. Even in Black Mirror, Martha never truly overcomes her crippling grief and rather stows yet another dead Starmer in the attic.