I’ve said this before: there’s so much I can’t talk about on this blog that it boggles the mind. One thing in particular will make for years of entries down the road, but another – our actual careers – remains frustratingly impossible to discuss. However, there is one thing I’m willing to go out on a limb on… or, as they say, there is one thing on which I will go out on a limb: fucking vampires.
I am so goddamn sick and tired of vampires I can barely see straight. When I was a kid, there were two vampires: the laughable one from old movies, and the Count from Sesame Street. In middle school, Anne Rice started her vampire novels, and I thought the attention to detail and the historical scope were cheesy yet awesome. Now you can’t swing a dead cat around this town without hitting a vampire script, and it’s just so… simultaneously boring and confusing.
I think the Twilight movies are turgid snoozefests, but I do see the appeal for tween girls – you’ve got a sullen female protagonist falling for a wickedly-handsome (and Morrissey doppleganger) eternal teen who loves her with a white-hot passion but can never actually penetrate her sexually. I mean, that’s goddamn perfect. The only problem is that in the plot, NOTHING EVER HAPPENS.
it’s the eskimo blood in their veins
As for the other shows, like True Blood and Vampire Diaries and the other ones in development, I have to confess, I don’t get it. It’s not that I’m old, or hopelessly out of touch, I just genuinely can’t fathom the appeal. Our buddy David Petrarca directed the last True Blood and it was GORGEOUS and I STILL don’t get its popularity. And can someone please explain the vampire/werewolf hostility? Are they morally different somehow, or do they just hate each other because the script says so? And if that’s the case, where are the mermaids?
And while I’m being a crusty old fuck who farts in his golf pants, the amount of blood used in the ad campaigns – which includes Dexter, by the way – makes me nauseous. The spattering, the dripping, the gore… I’m not offended by the subject matter, just the constant, constant use of a liquid that is only released during excruciating pain. It’s just not, like, funny to me anymore, or something.
As far as cultural memes go, this one has lasted far too long. I’ve had it. Or at least I have until Tessa and I are suddenly paid $6 million to write “O-Negative – The Bloodlove Jugular Chronicles” for Chilean television.