And Gutenberg Lived Here: Of Movies, Vampires, and the Industrial Revolution.

Yesterday we and some friends decided to go to the movies.

Nothing controversial,

nothing too chick flicky-

these are Hunsruck mountain men-

no Transformer hero Action men

we are intelligent, thinking, modern working women,

and besides, we, les girls,  are all already married,

so we don’t have to put up with Bruce Lee meets Wonder Woman-

(anybody else out there wonder how she manages to keep everything in place?)


to put it in a nutshell,

I went through all the films now playing,

and found:


count them


vampire pictures.

(I was outvoted on wanting to see the only other thing available-

the chipmunks)

So there we were,

looking at ads for four vampire friends,


or three vampire girls,

also teenage.


there was even a vampire dog.

probably also in his teens.

And just as I was standing there,

wondering if I would get smacked down

for wondering where the vampire androids were-

how do I know-

maybe they drink each others’ motor oil?

when it hit me.

Of course.

Vampire legends,

in the form of ancestry worship,

have been around since ancient Mesopotamia et al-

the ancestors, of course,

being dried out in the mummification process

and needing food

and beverage,

no, not just blood,

milk from cows,

who suddenly appear to have dried up,

apparently weren’t.

Only donating to the local vampire coven.

(Just don’t tell that to the milk council-

“every mummy needs milk”)

And, of course,

the sexual neck biting bit is nonsense,

as vampires,

having been gone for a while,

are totally dried out,

and in need of liquid,

but also are missing their old life,

and are thus rabid sex fiends-

so say the research papers

at the more progressive universities,

that give vampire courses for English majors,

or anthropology buffs-

preferably during a semester on Hawaii,

or in London,

home of Bram Stoker.

The real crux of the matter, though,

pardon the pun,

is the fact that the vampire legends suddenly reappeared

in mass,


sorry for the pun,

at the time of the rise of the  plague.

Which was supposedly brought by the undead dead.

Or cholera,


Or any of the other major causes of death in the middle ages-

like rotten teeth,

which may have something to do with the vampire biting bit.

And then,

all is quiet for a while…

minus the occasional story

or legend,

usually in southeastern Europe…


ta da,

the industrial revolution appears,

and the women are incarcerated at home,

and encased in corsets,

and are supposed to be pure

and chaste,

but maybe not really chased,

by vampires, I mean,

as brought to the home cinema

by Bram Stoker.

Who if he had had his way,

would have probably stabbed all deviant,

ie sexually active,

females of his time,

through the heart.

With a stake.

Or a steak-

vampires are always hungry, remember.

And those steak bones can be prettttty darned sharp.

Especially if you use the rib bones,

which do indeed make very nice little crosses.

So there we were-

discussing stakes,

and steaks,

and feeling dried out.

And  how the morals of the society determined what was aberrant behavior-

ie vampires and women giving in to their desires really just weren’t the thing,

or that the cure for the above

was Christian symbols-

only the symbols, please note-

as an antidote for good old-fashioned druid and pagan love of life….


the end of the story was…

we found a Thai place with an exotic drinks happy hour bar,

and spent the rest of the evening discussing vampire legends,

now apparently coming to full fruition in the android age,

and whether mojitos or blue swimming pools would ward off vampires,

and whether the chop sticks they gave us

could be sharpened,

just in case the mojitos didn’t work.

And whether holy water works on vampires of other religions,

and most of all,

what one does to ward off vampires

that were mathematicians in previous lives-


sing the ballad of poor little epsilon,

chant the eulogy of Bobaqui,

and if,

and only if,

that doesn’t work,

haul out the small bottle of chalk dust water

all mathematicians carry  with them at all times-

in case they get withdrawal symptoms-

and throw it on the undead.

Who then become  so involved in their research

they don’t need to drink blood any more.


should any of the above not work,

and as an absolutely last resort,

pull out your abacus,

and …


no abacus?


here’s what you do-

pull out your computer,

dial-up the latest Ted talk explaining what core math is,

throw the entire mess at them,

and run.

copyright 2017

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s