by Mogk, Matt
Apparently, zombie catalogers drink a lot. Here are some monsters that frequently appear in zombie film catalogs and zombie guides both online and in traditional print publications. A simple litmus test is applied to the creatures below to see how well they conform to the modern zombie’s three-tiered definition.
FRANKENSTEIN
Litmus Test:
Relentlessly Aggressive
Reanimated Human Corpse
Biological Infection
It is often said that there is a long-standing debate between zombie enthusiasts about whether or not Frankenstein is a zombie. Not really. There’s no debate that I’m aware of, at least not one between two sane people. Mary Shelley’s monster is not a zombie.
Though Dr. Frankenstein uses scientific means to create his creature in Shelley’s novel, he’s not a reanimated corpse. In fact, he’s not a corpse at all but a collection of body parts stolen from different corpses and brought together to form a single new entity. Frankenstein is also not a reanimated corpse in the sense of being undead. He has a heartbeat and is fully alive in the classical sense of being a living creature. He is brought to life rather than reanimated.
Frankenstein is furthermore not relentlessly aggressive. He’s quite a sensitive and thoughtful guy. He even tries to learn how to read and desires, above all, to be loved. He’s driven to anger and destructiveness through his mistreatment by humans, who discriminate against him largely because of his appearance.
Finally, the process by which he was made to exist does not involve an infection. He has no contagion to spread to others. In fact, he doesn’t have a “condition” at all, except for the tragedy of his loneliness. Later Hollywood versions of Frankenstein make him less sympathetic and more predatory, but his essential problem remains: he just doesn’t fit in with others.
Not a zombie.
MUMMIES
Litmus Test:
Relentlessly Aggressive
Reanimated Human Corpse
Biological Infection
Really? This one is pretty clear. It’s even got its own name, mummy, illustrating the point that if a monster is actually identified as something else in particular, it’s relatively safe to assume that it’s not a zombie.
For the record, mummies are not zombies because they are not relentlessly aggressive and they do not come to be through a biological infection. A mummy is a corpse whose skin and organs have been preserved by either intentional or incidental exposure to chemicals, extreme coldness, low humidity, or some combination thereof. In ancient mummy lore, they often protect specific places or sacred items, and this is also their driving desire in Hollywood depictions.
Mummies are not revived through some scientific process but, rather, through the fulfillment of a curse or eternal mission. Once order is restored to the mummy’s world—meaning once you give it back its favorite ruby brooch or leave its sacred space—it will lie down again and wait for the next time someone disturbs its rest.
Mummies may be creepy and cool, but they are not related to zombies in the least.
DEMONS
Litmus Test:
Relentlessly Aggressive
Reanimated Human Corpse
Biological Infection
Like mummies, demons also have their own label, which suggests right away that they’re not zombies. What separates dramatic depictions of demons from those of the modern zombie is that demon aggression is a matter of choice and is often specifically targeted to a limited number of individuals.
Demons are also driven by supernatural possession, not biological infection. A demon enters the body of its choosing, either living or dead, and asserts its will on that body to its own ends. Demonic possession isn’t contagious, although it’s difficult to overcome. But once the evil spirit leaves the possessed body it is returned to its natural state. There’s really nothing here that relates to zombies.
Nevertheless, some filmmakers and critics have tried to tie them together. Sam Raimi’s 1981 romp, The Evil Dead, is the classic example of a demonic movie often mistaken to be a zombie movie. In it, demons are accidentally awakened in the woods surrounding an isolated cabin. They set about tormenting the film’s lead, Bruce Campbell, and picking off his friends one by one.
Though human corpses do stand up, dance about, and attack the living, the demonic force behind their actions also causes trees and plants to come alive; turns slight young women into flying, bug-eyed maniacs with superhuman strength; and makes windows and doors swing about wildly as if the demon is possessing the entire building. When’s the last time you saw a real zombie do that?
Evil Dead (1981)
ASH:
Did something in the woods do this to you?
CHERYL:
No, it was the woods themselves! They’re alive, Ash! They’re alive.
LINDA:
Ash, why don’t I take her in the back room so she can lie down.
CHERYL:
I’m not lying down! I want to get out of here. I want to leave this place right now!
JESUS OF NAZARETH
Litmus Test:
Relentlessly Aggressive
Reanimated Human Corpse
Biological Infection
OK, according to Christian belief, Jesus did rise from the dead. But by all accounts, he was just as much himself after coming back from the dead as he was before his crucifixion. Zombies, on the other hand, share nothing in common with the human who once occupied their bodies, except for the physical body itself. Technically speaking, a zombie is not a person raised from the dead but, rather, a new creature animating the shell of what was once a living human being. The former person is gone, and something new has taken his or her place. Also, Jesus ascends to heaven after being resurrected, while zombies aren’t going anywhere. The verdict on Jesus? Not a zombie. Although the biblical prophet Zechariah does seem to prophesy a zombie pandemic, which ought to give us all something to think about:
The Lord will send a plague to all the nations that fought Jerusalem. Their flesh will rot where they stand, their eyes will rot in their sockets, and their tongues will rot in their mouths. The people will be stricken by a great panic, and they will attack one another. (14:12–13)
In the meantime, Jesus’s not-zombieness is helpful in illustrating a core quality of zombies: they aren’t the person whose body they occupy. Think of the body as a house and the zombie as a squatter. The rightful owners have moved on, and someone else has taken up residence in what should be an abandoned property. So if you ever have the misfortune of running into a recently deceased family member shambling up your driveway with a hunger for human flesh, don’t hesitate to take swift and violent action. That’s not Uncle Bob anymore; that’s just some freeloader wearing his skin and bones.
KNOW YOUR ZOMBIES: COLONEL HERZOG
Dead Snow (2009)
Colonel Herzog and his undead Nazi troops behave much like mummies—they are preserved in ice, they just want their gold back, and they may not be contagious—but they’re called zombies by name throughout Dead Snow, making the intentions of this Norwegian romp clear.
Earlier Nazi zombie movies include Shock Waves (1977) and Zombie Lake (1981), both of which involve ghouls rising from bodies of water to terrorize the living.
ILLUSTRATION BY WILLIAM BLANKENSHIP
I went to a demolition derby several years back, and it struck me that the competing cars had a lot in common with zombies. If you’ve never seen it, demolition derby is a motorsport consisting of a number of similar cars competitively ramming into one another until only one is still operational, while the rest lie motionless and destroyed.
Cars prepped for a derby are stripped down to their bare essentials. The lights are removed, the seats are ripped out, the suspension is cut down to a minimum, the dashboard is stripped, and the radio is trashed. Anything that doesn’t directly assist in the accomplishment of the driver’s narrow objective is history. Just like a zombie occupying what was once a fully functioning human body,
the derby car is a shell of its former self.
A derby car isn’t tasked with having a long and productive driving life. Its only goal is to survive the other cars on the track for at least a few brief seconds. Zombies are likewise designed not for longevity but, rather, for viability. They only need to live long enough to spread their infection to a new host.
There’s a lot we can’t know about zombie physiology until the dead come clawing back for us. But examining the complex inner workings of a zombie through the lens of something as simple as a demolition derby may help to clarify the potential issues at hand. I know it does for me.
Re-animator (1985)
DR. HILL:
I want your discovery. Whatever it is that gives the dead the appearance of life.
WEST:
It is not the appearance of life, it is life. This is not magic. I am a scientist.
DR. HILL:
I’ll have you locked up as a madman or a murderer!
The scientific community has embraced the living dead as a legitimate field of study in recent years. Largely because of their uniquely biological roots, zombies are the perfect research subjects, and serious work is being done in a wide range of fields, from mathematical outbreak modeling to the theoretical construction of the zombie brain.
In their paper “When Zombies Attack: Mathematical Modeling of an Outbreak of Zombie Infection,” a University of Ottawa research team concluded that a large-scale zombie outbreak would lead to societal collapse unless dealt with quickly and aggressively. The New York Times included the work among its top ideas of 2009.
That same year, Dr. Steven Schlozman, codirector of medical student education in psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, gained national attention for his theory of ataxic neurodegenerative satiety deficiency syndrome (ANSD), which seeks to explain classic zombie behaviors such as slight uncoordination, reduced brain function, and perpetual hunger and aggression. Schlozman fictionalized the syndrome in his 2011 novel, The Zombie Autopsies. As he says:
In my novel, ANSD is the name given to the condition of zombie-ism by the World Health Organization. It is an airborne bug, spread in respiratory droplets like the common cold; though being bitten by someone with ANSD is a potent vector of disease transmission as well.
Let me be clear, though: all zombie research is theoretical. We don’t have an available walking corpse to capture, strap down, and cut up for the good of mankind, so certain assumptions need to be made on an individual basis. Though zombies are classified as dead, Schlozman’s theory is that they have beating hearts and that their lungs continue to take in oxygen. Other theories are built around flesh eaters that don’t breathe at all. Likewise, the Ottawa researchers also used their own specific set of parameters when developing their model.
No single theory will ever paint a complete picture of the modern zombie, and we’ll never know the full extent of the threat we face until the dead rise. But by taking a close look at the most compelling new and developing research in the field, we might foster a better understanding of the coming threat, thereby increasing our chance of survival as a species.
To that end, this section looks at the theoretical biology of the modern zombie, establishes its defining behavioral characteristics, and identifies existing pathogens that could be possible infection sources. We will also highlight strange zombielike animals from around the world and touch on disturbing current events that seem to suggest that all signs point to the coming plague.
7: THE ZOMBIE BRAIN
In 2007, I attended Wired magazine’s fourth annual Nextfest in Los Angeles, a showcase of technological innovations meant to change the world. The convention featured dozens of exhibits, including a giant holographic fighting game, a single-wheeled motorcycle concept, and a gaggle of yellow dancing marshmallow balls. But the one demonstration that everyone wanted to see, billed by organizers as the premier spectacle of the entire show, was Kiyomori the samurai robot. So special was Kiyomori that it only came out of its fancy samurai battle tent twice a day.
Thirty minutes before Kiyomori’s scheduled appearance, crowds began to form along the rope, so I found a spot near the front and dug in to witness the future of robotics. My head swirled with visions of a fierce fighting machine that jumped and kicked and expertly readied its samurai sword for battle. What was about to happen? Would Kiyomori go haywire and kill an innocent bystander before wreaking havoc on the entire city? I’d seen Robocop; I knew the risks. Was this mysterious metal samurai a fateful precursor to Ed-209 or T-800? Maybe I should have sat farther back.
Ominous Japanese music started, Kiyomori’s introduction was made over a loudspeaker, and then it appeared. The robot hobbled forward on shaky legs, slowly moving to a fixed position in the small ring. Far from an intimidating warrior, it looked like a tin suitcase with legs and arms in a cheap Halloween costume. Two nervous handlers stood on either side of Kiyomori, making sure it didn’t fall over. Needless to say, it was less than impressive to a robotics novice like me but paradoxically also not overbilled. Kiyomori was the future.
In March 2009, Japan’s National Institute of Advanced Industrial Science and Technology debuted its new female humanoid robot at Tokyo Fashion Week. The Center for Advanced Vehicles at the University of Tehran, Iran, followed suit in August 2010 with a shiny white biped called Surena 2. Neither is substantially more physically capable than Kiyomori.
Thousands of the brightest minds on the planet have spent decades tackling this problem but have yet to create a life-sized humanoid robot that can move through space as well as even the most awkward zombie.14 The robots can’t avoid rotting bodies in the road or navigate cracked curbsides or burned-out porch stairs. They can’t maintain balance while grabbing, pulling, and eating their struggling victims alive. They can’t kneel to feast on the flesh of their fallen prey. What they can do is walk in a straight line on a smooth surface and then turn around and walk back again.
This isn’t a knock on robotics but, rather, the most striking evidence that the walking dead are more capable and likely smarter than most give them credit for. There is an inexorable connection between the brain and the body, so through theoretical observation of zombie behavior, we know that the zombie brain must be relatively high-functioning. Maybe not high-functioning compared to your average human, but certainly high-functioning compared to Kiyomori.
Put another way, your undead neighbor may not be likely to take up poetry as a hobby or memorize all the provinces of Canada. But the very fact that he’s able to recognize a door or a window, claw at it to gain entry, then identify, chase, and capture food across wide swaths of varying terrain is a testament to his impressive undead brainpower.
STRUCTURE AND FUNCTION
Timothy Verstynen, PhD, is a neuroscientist at the Center for the Neural Basis of Cognition in Pittsburgh, specializing in human brain imaging and neural network modeling. Bradley Voytek, PhD, is a neuroscientist at the University of California, Berkeley, studying the role of neural oscillations in communicating brain networks. Together they authored a groundbreaking paper on zombie brain function titled “The Living Dead Brain,” in connection with their development of a complete three-dimensional model of a zombie brain. To say that these guys know what they’re talking about when it comes to the structure and function of the zombie brain is an understatement.
Voytek and Verstynen pioneered the theory of Consciousness Deficit Hypoactivity Disorder in the undead, defined as the loss of rational, voluntary, and conscious behavior, replaced by delusional, impulsive aggression; stimulus-driven attention; and the inability to coordinate motor and linguistic behaviors. In other words, zombies aren’t the most graceful creatures on the planet, but they sure do want to rip your guts out:
Together, these symptoms and their neurological roots reveal a striking picture of the zombie brain. Based on the behavioral profile of the standard zombie, we conclude that the zombie brain would have massive atrophy of the “association areas” of the brain: those area
s that are responsible for the higher-order cognitive functions. Given the clear cognitive and memory deficits, we would also expect significant portions of the frontal and parietal lobes, and nearly the entire temporal lobe, to exhibit massive degeneration.15
Echoing their work, McGill University researchers offer a clear breakdown of the human brain’s control over motor function, explaining that even basic movements—walking, looking around, grabbing—require complementary actions taken by the brain as a whole. It’s akin to a ship’s crew, whereby the frontal lobe receives information about the individual’s current position from several other parts, then, like the ship’s captain, issues commands. The major difference between humans and zombies is that commands such as Walk to your car to go to work or Open the microwave to heat up a Hot Pocket are changed to Eat Mr. Johnson mowing his lawn and Eat the paramedic helping Mr. Johnson.
CAN ZOMBIES LEARN?
A 2010 study at Carnegie Mellon University showed that humans and other animals use real and hypothetical memory to help make basic decisions. When applied to zombie research, this fact suggests that the undead probably have some developmental ability in order to hunt their human prey effectively. In layman’s terms, zombies might learn.
The study found that rats navigating a maze used not only replays of recent or frequent paths through the maze but also paths that they’d rarely taken or had not yet taken at all. The rats were trying to build mental maps to help them make navigation choices, proving that memory is an integral part of the decision-making process. Researcher Anoopum Gupta notes that this is true even if the goal is something as simple as sniffing out a piece of cheese: