Popular Culture Review Vol. 23, No. 2, Summer 2012 | Page 19

And Say the Zombie Responded? 15 with them, and zombies kept in fighting arenas in order to have sporting spectacles on which the humans can place bets. Meanwhile, each time the humans go out to steal the resources of the zombies, they always go at night so that they can shoot fireworks in the sky in order to distract the zombies (who always look up in shock and awe) thus making them easier to kill. All of this seems to be working well until one of the zombies starts to become aware of what is going on. This is the African American gas station attendant who is unnamed in the film but referred to as “Big Daddy” in print because this is what the name-patch sewn on his uniform says. He is defined, that is, by the job he had serving others. But still, the revolution begins. And it begins with a visceral reaction to the violence that always accompanies the human raids, especially as that violence leads to the dismembering and beheading of zombies. Big Daddy sees a fellow zombie lose a head, and, without eve n understanding why, he starts to mourn. This is the beginning of the raising of his consciousness. After he learns to mourn and see death for what it is, he starts using tools, starts developing language, and starts organizing the other zombies in something resembling an uprising as they march across the river bed and lay siege to the walled-in city. It is as if what it means to possess logos is to have the ability to mourn, and Big Daddy is on the way to a revolutionary logos. When the zombies arrive, the viewer who has been paying attention is glad they are there, rooting for them to take down their oppressors. Here, the movie ends with a reference to how it began. Riley, one of the humans who was a raider we met in the first scene but is now turned rebel, speeds away from the city and stops to look at Big Daddy through his binoculars. Their eyes meet once again across the distance. And this time, Riley orders his second-in-command not to fire. “All they want is somewhere to go,” he says. “Same as us.” It is a postcolonial zombie apocalypse that looks more like a beginning than an end. It looks strangely like a chance for hope. There remain two foundational questions we must consider in our investigation of the nature of zombies, two philosophical questions of the mouth: the question of cannibalism and the question of language. Why do the zombies wish to eat humans, and why can they only moan and mutter as they stumble along? These final inquiries are related, and they provide key pieces of the puzzle if we are to understand fully what the zombie phenomenon is all about. Part of the horror of the zombie is that he or she might hunt and eat you. And this is a true threat: to be consumed by our love of the Other. Within the various fictional and artistic worlds inhabited by zombies, there is little agreement as to why zombies crave human flesh. It is nearly part of the definition of “zombie,” however, that they are constantly hungry and have a craving for only one food-type. In some sense, zombies are merely ravenous. The only real personality trait all zombies have is that they are always hungry and always desiring human