I’m almost done with Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” and I’m finding it at turns both terrifying and oddly lulling. I’m not all that into the spare prose, and “boy book”-ness of the thing, but the post-apocalyptic setting really nags at me. In a good way. I guess in general I’ve just acquired a strange fascination with the idea of a the world after it ends, who and what is still around, what everything looks like, how things march on. I felt the same about Children of Men (maybe my favorite movie ever), and almost wanted to see Resident Evil: Extinction for its depiction of a deserted (literally) Las Vegas. For that matter, pretty much every zombie movie hooks me and terrifies me and makes me think about things I don’t want to (but kind of do?). An especially great one is the remake of Dawn of the Dead. Not so powerful and artsy as 28 Days Later, but absolutely horrifying in its far bleaker ending.
Why on earth am I so drawn to the End of the World genre, especially those featuring zombism? I really have no idea. I suppose the argument could be made that it’s some subconscious reaction to the post-“Rudy Giuliani Presents: 9/11” world, and that I’m just steeling myself for what I think the future might hold. Or, maybe they comfort me because I can sit back and say “Nah, that’d never happen.” Yeah. Maybe that’s it. I get comfort from zombie/apocalypse movies. That must explain why, a few years ago, I had zombie contingency plans all mapped out in my head and read Max Brooks’ “The Ultimate Zombie Survival Guide” completely unironically, several times.