Back when he was the mayor of New York City in the 1980s, Ed Koch was famous for asking his constituents, "How am I doing?" It was his way of getting instant feedback about his job performance in those primitive, pre-Internet days.
Well, readers and listeners, I now ask you the same question. How am I, Wayne Kotke, doing? I have recently returned to Mail Order Zombie, and I would like to start updating this blog more often. But I'm really only interested in doing these things if people are still interested in hearing or reading what I have to say. Have you enjoyed the new segments for MOZ? Would you be interested in reading more blog posts? Are there particular topics you want to me to cover?
Let me know. I'm open to any and all questions, comments, and concerns you might have. I've been away from the show for a while, and I was curious what people think of the segment.
Thanks.
Your pal,
Wayne
P.S. Check out the reference to Mr. Koch and his famous question in this extremely NSFW scene from Do the Right Thing.
Hello once again, my dear readers and cherished friends:
On the last episode of Mail Order Zombie, a listener claimed to be offended by my use of the term "redneck" and accused me of "spreading propaganda" each week on the show.
Let me answer the second charge first. A propagandist? Moi? Don't make me laugh! I'm giving a three-minute editorial at the end of a podcast each week. That's hardly propaganda. On the other hand, I'd say that decades upon decades of so-called "zombie" movies, comics, novels, and video games are much more suited to being called propaganda, insomuch as they've been used to poison people's minds with incorrect information about the living impaired. This charge is baseless. I plead not guilty and fully expect an acquittal.
But now, let's deal with a thornier issue: my repeated use of the word "redneck" to describe the people who routinely hunt the living impaired for sport. Before we rush to judgment, let's examine this term and see what it really means. First, it should be obvious that "redneck" does not necessarily refer to Southerners. I am originally from Michigan, and I can tell you that my home state is crawling with rednecks. Hell, my own family tree is crawling with rednecks! (More about them later.)
George Romero's "dead" films frequently feature those I would call "rednecks," and they're set in Pennsylvania, for pete's sake! Let's take a look at some of these folks in action:
In short, rednecks are everywhere! (NOTE: The comedian and actor David Cross, a Georgia native, has a good bit about this on his album, Shut Up, You Fucking Baby!)
So if I don't use "rednecks" to mean Southerners, do I use it to mean lower-income, poorly-educated white people? Absolutely not. Most of the "rednecks" I know are not poor! Many of them certainly have more money and socioeconomic clout than I do, that's for damned sure! Look at all the products which are directly marketed to rednecks! If you haven't been to a Wal-Mart lately, just go in and look around to see what I'm talking about. The existence of all this crap leads me to one conclusion: rednecks have money! Guns cost money. Ugly hats cost money. Terrible comedy albums cost money. You think they're giving lawn ornaments away? No, sir! I know I can't afford that junk, even if I wanted it.
If rednecks aren't defined by money or by location, then who are they? To me, "redneck" is a mentality. It's a state of mind, a chosen lifestyle. To be a redneck is to embrace everything that is tacky and puerile and to turn a blind eye to knowledge, truth, beauty, and progress. I know it well because I've been running from it all my life: figuratively during my "living" years and now often literally as an LI. You see, as I said earlier, my family is full of rednecks. To attend a Kotke Family Reunion is to see a Larry the Cable Guy routine come to life. But early in my life, I made a vow to myself that I was not going to live like that. No, I was not going to have the police break up a domestic disturbance on my front lawn. No, I was not going to lose a foot to diabetes. (I ended up losing an arm, but that couldn't be helped.) No, I was not going to limit my reading to "Bazooka Joe" comics. In short: NO, I WAS NOT GOING TO BE A REDNECK!
So that's why I use the term and will continue to use it. Thank you for reading this rant.
During the latest late-night talk show shuffle, you've probably been wondering: "What is Wayne Kotke's official position on this whole fiasco?" If you follow me on Twitter (and if you don't, shame on you), you may have seen some of the avatars featured above in which I remake my own image into that of carrot-topped Conan O'Brien, gap-toothed David Letterman, and lantern-jawed Jay Leno. Depending on my work and school schedules, I have been a pretty steady viewer of late-night TV talk shows since at least the mid-to-late-1980s. I was able, for instance, to witness the last few years of Johnny Carson's reign on NBC's The Tonight Show, and I can remember when Late Night With David Letterman only ran from Monday through Thursday, making each (rare) opportunity to see the show a special treat. Letterman was muscled aside on Friday nights in those days in favor of NBC's long-gone music show Friday Night Videos, a situation which Letterman routinely parodied.
Ah, but that was many years ago! In the decades since, Leno usurped the Tonight Show throne from Carson's heir apparent Letterman -- prompting much outrage and consternation -- and is now set to reclaim that same post from Conan O'Brien -- prompting additional outrage and consternation. During those middle years, let us not forget, Leno became TV's top-rated yakker by sanding away the rough edges of his comedic persona and aiming straight for the middle (middlebrow, middle class, Middle America) with predictably middling results. Meanwhile, Letterman soldiered on with his crankier, snarkier persona to great success on a rival CBS show, and O'Brien carved out his own niche with his brand of cheerful absurdism -- beloved by many (including me) but apparently not what the Tonight Show audience was looking for. Clearly, what America needs is a talk show host who can deliver the strengths of all three of these men. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the future of late night television:
NOTE: This post is strictly for my living impaired brethren and sisteren (cistern?) out there. You living people can take it outside.
The living. We deal with them on a daily basis -- on the job, in the streets, in our homes and churches. Kotketology teaches that we should try to love the living and get along with them, but I do admit that they sure can make it hard to do. If they're not screaming in terror and falling all over themselves to get away from us, they're aiming their guns right between our eyebrows. Am I right?
Can I get an Amen?
But Dr. Kotke is in, and I've got the prescription for you, pilgrims. Follow these simple steps, and dealing with the living can be (mostly) a breeze. I plan to use this blog to give you LI-ers out there some handy advice that you can apply to your day-to-day afterlives. Today's lesson is very simple.
When in Rome, do as the Romans.
This is basic enough. Want to avoid getting shot? Then try your best to blend in with the living people all around you. That means: act like the living, dress like the living, talk like the living, walk like the living, etc. I know we've been taught since childhood to be true to ourselves, but when you're living impaired, "being yourself" might cost you your second life. And in this video game, there are no replays.
What does this mean for you? No shambling. And don't walk with your arms outstretched like you're waiting for your nail polish to dry. That is -- forgive the expression -- a dead giveaway. In short, follow the sage advice of Mr. Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Walk like a man!
How do I know the Dead 2 Rights movement is gaining momentum and acceptance across this great land of ours? Simple! Our logo has made it to a t-shirt. And not just any t-shirt either, but one created by Slug, host of the Slugcast, one of my very favorite podcasts. Slug reminds us that the shirt seen above is only a prototype. Still in all, this is a great milestone for the entire Dead 2 Rights organization. And this is an excellent opportunity to point out that the logo seen on the t-shirt and the banner for this site were both designed by the talented Scott Cole of http://www.13visions.com/
Hello, my dear friends, both living and non! On the Mail Order Zombie podcast and indeed on this very blog, you have heard me speaking passionately and at length about The Brain Patch, a simple adhesive patch which -- when affixed to the upper arm -- curbs the strong craving for human brains often experienced by the Living Impaired. Certainly, with any breakthrough of modern science of this magnitude, there will be questions and concerns. And that, my fellow patriots, is what this post is all about. I, Wayne Kotke, will answer some possible questions about the Brain Patch. (And thanks again to Chris Toohey for the illustration.) Anyway, on with the questions!
Q: Does the Brain Patch have any side effects?
A: Yes, but they are mild. Wearers of the patch may experience strange cravings for such foods as gummi bears, Funyans, Red Vines, Lemonheads, Rainbow Nerds, Cheez-Its, Nutty Buddies, Choco Tacos, Mallomars, Bit O'Honeys, Sugar Daddies, Ho-Hos, Combos, Sour Patch Kids, Smarties, Sweet Tarts, Pep-O-Mint Life Savers, York Peppermint Patties, Crackle bars, and Atomic Warheads.
Q: Any more side effects?
A: Well, the patch caused me to develop a keen interest in playing Tetris for days at a time, but that's just me. Other users may find themselves more interested in, say, Pitfall or Dig Dug.
Q: Seriously, are there any more side effects?
A: My, aren't we nosey today? Well, if you must know, Little Miss Peskypants, it seems that wearers of the Brain Patch have experienced some motivational deficiencies. While the LI have no nutritional need for human brains, it seems that the instinct to eat brains was an important psychological drive for us. Put simply, the purely imaginary "need' for brains was apparently what was keeping us going all this time. It was like the "magic feather" in Dumbo. Without our magic feather, we wind up playing Tetris and scarfing down gummi bears. But like Disney's large-eared elephant, we the Living Impaired must learn that we can "fly," so to speak, without our "magic feather," i.e. human brains. So that's our next big challenge.
Q: What happens if a living person wears the Brain Patch?
A: Bad stuff. Bad, bad stuff. Don't try it. Seriously, don't.
You regular listeners-in have already heard me jabbering at length about THE BRAIN PATCH, the miracle of modern science which will, I hope, finally allow the Living Impaired to live in peace and harmony with the living by curbing our oh-so-inconvenient cravings for human brains. A simple, unobtrusive patch worn on the upper arm, the Brain Patch allows the wearer to go about his or her daily business without feeling even the slightest desire to crack open a victim's skull and feast on the grey matter within.
Neat, right?
I thought so, too, and now -- thanks to Chris Toohey -- we finally have a photograph of a model (not me) wearing a prototype of the Brain Patch. Thanks, Chris!
If you are reading this blog post, then I'm guessing you are probably a regular listener of the Mail Order Zombie podcast. Knowing this, I can further extrapolate that you enjoy horror movies, haunted houses, costume parties, and all the trappings of the Halloween season. Sadly, your favorite month -- October -- has now passed. Over. Finito. Gone with the wind. It is possible that you are now suffering from something like post-partum depression. Your blood-stained hockey mask and jumpsuit are in storage. You just ate your last Tootsie Roll Midgee. And the neighbors are starting to ask when you'll get around to taking that hilarious fake corpse off your front porch. (It is fake, isn't it?)
In short, you've got those post-Halloween blues, and you've got 'em bad. Well, fear not! Because your old living impaired buddy, Wayne, is here to help you get through November with these fun suggestions:
1. Use the word "turducken" often and in completely inappropriate circumstances. Example: as a profanity while driving.
2. Spend some quality time with your oldest and dearest friend -- namely, television. Did you know that both 90210 and Melrose Place are back on the air? These are truly remarkable times to be alive. (Even if, like me, you're not alive.)
3. Keep elaborate journals about the personal hygiene habits of your coworkers. Keep score using a complex rating system of your own creation. Deduct points for dirty fingernails, nose hairs, excess earwax, etc.
4. Call people. Doesn't matter whom. It's all good, as they say. I'm sure the person on the other end will be happy to hear from you, whoever they are.
5. Master a new skill that you've always wanted to learn, such as impersonating celebrities who died decades ago. I'm working on my Walter Brennan now.
If all else fails, put yourself into cryogenic storage with specific instructions: "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL OCTOBER 2010"
