"How I like my vampires" by Scott Burtness
How do I like my vampires?
Seriously, the hopping vampire from Asian lore and more recent pop culture is hilarious. Take a dead, rigid corpse, dress it in Qing Dynasty robes and baubles, stick its arms out, clawed hands grasping, and have it hop menacingly toward its intended victims. Not walk, prowl, creep, stalk, run, sprint, dash, barrel, saunter, amble, hoof it, mosey, or sashay, mind you.
You gotta admit, it’s flippin’ hilarious.
It’s easy to like the always cool under pressure, inherently badass, unfathomably sexy and impeccably dressed vampires. When you think about it, though, aren’t they a little too easy to like? Where’s the challenge? Ponder that over a pint and you’ll start to glean why I’m so drawn to the misfits, the odd balls, the undead antitheses of their glamorous, blood-sucking counterparts.
I also blame John Hughes. And just to be clear, I’m talking about the 1980’s “Sixteen Candles,” “Weird Science,” “Breakfast Club,” “Pretty in Pink,” “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” and “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” John Hughes, not the pandering hack of the late ‘90’s John Hughes.
I grew up on movies that celebrated the odd, the unusual, the unwanted, the underdog. They were my heroes. Their struggles were amplified by their awkwardness, their triumphs all the more worthy of celebration because their odds of success were so damn low to begin with. Is it any wonder, then, that I’d look for the same off-kilter but still redeeming characteristics in vampires? Nope.
Are vampires metaphors?
Poor Herb. The guy can’t even spell metaphor, but even he will hopefully become a role model for some impressionable schlub out there.