Zombie Spaceship Wasteland: A Book by Patton Oswalt

Author:Oswalt, Patton [Oswalt, Patton]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Comedians - United States, Humor, Social Science, Form, Manga, Oswalt, Patton, Comics & Graphic Novels, Actors - United States, Entertainment & Performing Arts, General, United States, Non-fiction:Humor, Comedians, Biography & Autobiography, Actors, Essays, Popular Culture, Biography
ISBN: 9781439149089
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 2011-01-04T00:00:00+00:00

SPARKLING WINES

CHEBORNEK VLAD ROMANIA

VIN SPUMOS $14

Is bubbles! For faggots!

SPEZZANIO FAMILY PIEDMONT, ITALY

PROSECCO $15

Nino! oh God, Neeeeeee-no!

DESSERT WINES

MEINGUTENFUHRER ISSINWEIN GERMANY $15

The whitest, purest grapes are separated from the darker, weaker ones (which are trucked off before the wine’s final solution) and used to make a clean, strong strain of ice wine. A triumph of the will.

Zombie Spaceship Wasteland

Are you a Zombie, a Spaceship, or a Wasteland?

For my group of friends, after seeing Star Wars in 1977, around age eight, and then Night of the Living Dead and all the eighties slasher films once VCRs sprouted on top of our TVs, and The Road Warrior in 1981, the answer to that question decided our destinies.

I know there have been a thousand parsings of the pop subculture—comic books, video games, horror movies, heavy metal, science fiction, Dungeons and Dragons. There are hundreds more categories. They can be laid out in overlapping Venn diagrams—a tub full of lonely bubbles. Burnouts who are into heavy metal got there through Dungeons and Dragons, maybe some glam rock, probably horror movies. Hard-core comic book readers often became film snobs later in life (they spend their adolescence reading, essentially, storyboards). Even sports freaks*—with their endless, exotic game stats— overlapped into metal and, yeah, maybe comic books.

But for me, and my circle of high school friends, it came down to Zombies, Spaceships, or Wastelands. These were the three doors out of the Vestibule of Adolescence, and each opened onto a dark, echoing hallway. The corridors twisted and intertwined, like a DNA helix. Maybe those paths were a rough reflection of the DNA we were born with, which made us more likely to cherish and pursue one corridor over another.

I’m going to try to explain each of these categories (and will probably fail). And then I’ll figure out where I came out, on the other end, once the cards were played. I think this chapter is more for me than for you.

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