Thoughts on the Big Wangdoodle

I was at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival last weekend and spent a little time in the gospel music tent. As always, the voices and the music were amazing. But as an agnostic, I was, as always, struck by the loud and long protestations of faith bubbling up all around me. It’s not a faith I share, and I find it interesting that so many people experience it so deeply. One of the groups sang a song that celebrated the resurrection, with lots of call and response sections about “he’s back, he’s not dead, etc.” It made me think about humankind’s astonishing drive to banish death. I think that’s at the root of every religion—including Hinduism; after all, what’s reincarnation but the eradication of the long dirt nap?

There’s nothing else-nothing else-in life that is completely irrevocable, except for death. And if we could, if you could, wouldn’t you give anything to summon back someone you’ve lost? That’s the great big wangdoodle, isn’t it? And isn’t it really just the flipside to the much ballyhooed “life everlasting” of organized religion? Because, hey, if you can’t bring ‘em back, let’s all get together the afterlife, what do you say?

And that made me think about horror stories. So many of them pervert that desire—I think of Stephen King’ Pet Semetary and every zombie flick ever made, not to mention Dracula, Frankenstein and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At their core, they’re really all just turning that dream into a nightmare.

Plus, in the case of somebody who really needs to be dead—pick your favorite baddie—what’s more potent in horror films than the “dead” monster, who—as everyone but the heroine knows—isn’t really dead!