Yeah, yeah, we all know about the Goths and
Nameless, my dear pal who reads this blog (and now I am so gonna get a thousand calls asking “Am I Nameless???") is all about communication, and ghost stories. And what is a ghost, except someone who desperately has something to say–but can’t get it across? Ghosts moan and rattle, appearing and vanishing around a fixed point, and the only way to get rid of them is to figure out what the problem is and FIX IT.
Lumpkin is into zombies. When I think of zombies, the first thing that comes to mind is drive. Zombies are the ultimate in drive. Their whole focus is getting from point A (hunger) to point B (satiety–usually on living flesh). That’s it. No quandries about what should be done, no distractions about what could be done right now (“While I’m devouring Bush, I might as well eat Souter, Cheney’s already one of us. Oooohhh–Ginsberg’s looking toothsome!”) Nope. Point A to point B in as few shambling steps as possible. Water, fire, walls--not a problem. Just stuff to pass through.
Me? I'm into devils and demons. Take what you want, do as you please, and pay for it. Ultimately powerful beings that are bound by rules of their own devising. The ultimate in OCD monsters, always checking the details, details, details. Why do you think I post once a week??? It's in the rules, just like the pentagram on the office floor that keeps me here at my desk.
And don't get me started on the angel-lovers out there. We're talking manifestations of the Divine Will. Notice that when God needs a heavy, S/He sends out an angel? The angel with the flaming sword guarding the Tree of Knowledge, the angel driving Adam and Eve out of the garden, the angel of death visiting the firstborn of Egypt? See a pattern here? Devils can be tricked; there's a whole genre of deal with the devil stories where the summoner wiggles out of the contract and avoids damnation. How many "Deal With an Angel" stories have you seen, where someone summons an angel, makes a deal, and then avoids the consequences? The negative consequences, of course--the ones where the protagonist gets gobsmacked for hijacking a henchman of the divine.
And no, I haven't touched shapeshifters--the werebeasts, the changelings. No one so far has admitted their love for the id buried within. (I can relate, I have a psyche like an M & M. Big chocolaty id, covered with a crunchy ego shell and sprayed with a glossy bright superego. Probably where I get the obsession tihe rules and such--the superego is very very thin, and washes away easily. If it gets scratched, that's it--here comes the chocolate.)
Next time, pictures. Promise. No more psychology for a while, it's too hot outside.