Hooked on Brains and Phonics: Learning Lessons From the Undead.
It's not like I watch this movie over and over again just for fun. No, no, Romero's 1968 horror masterpiece must be compulsively revisited in order to unearth the pearls of wisdom it contains. The lessons to be learned from this zombie epic/hysterical diatribe against communism are legion, and they're not just confined to warnings about the dangers of cultural homogeny and the obliteration of identity. Many more valuable lessons can be gleaned from this unsettling, eerie film, such as the danger of falling asleep naked, because you might get half eaten and return to life, and undeath is not kind to middle aged breasts. Saddlebag tits are bad enough, let alone when they’re full of rotted meat. Other lessons of note:
1) A sleeveless shirt is not a flattering thing to die in. Its resemblance to a toga in grainy black and white photography is unmistakable. Add a couple of extra layers of fat, and comparisons to a zombie John Belushi are unavoidable.
2) Black people are way better at yelling than white people. Not so good at dodging bullets, though. One cancels the other out.
3) Shrieking is not an effective defense against either the undead, or film critics. Star Judith O’Dea got savaged by both, and deserved it.
4) Bark is not a good substitute for a balanced breakfast of intestines and burnt foot.
5) Stay in the cellar. No matter what. I summer down there. It's great for hiding from zombies, creditors, and black people who yell a lot and get shot.
Now, I'm off to pick up some fall entertaining tips from 10 Man Cock Slam #10.