Knob Magazine

Photographer Robbie Cooper gives us a glimpse into the world of child zombies.

Frequent readers of Knob will know of my diverse interests – cycling, advocacy, pirates –  but here is one concern that trumps them all: zombies.  Perhaps my greatest fear is not just the run of the mill undead, but throngs of pre-teen mouth breathers hungry for human flesh.  Whereas regular zombies just slowly lurch around, adolescent zombies are nimble, swift and confused about their position in zombie society.

Most of the time when you write about zombies you can do so ironically.  The entire genre is a sort of cultural word-play that blends the morbid origins of nervous laughter, social insecurity, and superficial fears of death into grotesque b-movie expressions of the ridiculous.  After all, what are the chances that the rotting corpse of your neighbor is actually going to eat your brains?  Extant sure, but unlikely nonetheless.

That doesn’t mean that zombies don’t exist.   There may be no better proof that Robbie Cooper’s Immersion.  The video, recently posted on nytimes.com, shows the facial expressions of tween kids playing video games.  Even the most level headed stalwarts of the “kids are all-right camp” can’t help but be unsettled by the images of kids eyes unblinking, mouths agape, licking their lips and grunting kill.

Godfrey Reggio's Evidence

Immersion is essentially a remake of two-decade old short Godfrey Reggio short film, Evidence.  The earlier film was commissioned by Benetton’s communication research wing, Fabrica, as a study of the effects that television had on children.  The kids in that film, like those in Immersion, share the locked on stare and sense of obliviousness.  It is as if the rest of the world had disappeared and all that was left was the television.

To compare the two films is terrifying.  The children in Evidence seem focused, but ultimately confused; their stare punctuated by moments of delight from seeing something they recognize.  Make no mistake, the film is effective in showing that emotional gratification had been mechanized, but even with the distopian undertones, the kids still looked kind of cute.

In Immersion, however, there is no such comfort to be had.  Instead, it is clear that the kids are interacting with a comprehensive universe that they understand in incredible detail.  Without diverting their gaze they deliver morbid commands to their opponents: “come here so I can kill you”.  They furrow their brows in the challenge of making the machine do their bidding and their delight comes not from understanding, but the splat of blood hitting a porcelain tile wall amidst a cacophony of electronic sound.

I am not one that believes that kids who play video games are anything but normal.   Kids are pretty sophisticated when it comes to telling the difference between violent make-believe and the real world.  Nor am I trying to suggest that these games have some causal relationship to tragic events like those at Columbine or Virgina Tech.  There is, however, a difference in being alarmist and recognizing that we have a problem on our hands.

If Immersion teaches us anything it is that completely normal kids can exhibit some relatively sadistic tendencies and, like zombies, whatever line divides the well adjusted kid from the sadistic one is both nebulous and seemingly narrow.  I can’t help but to think that these games inject a sort of latent zombie gene just waiting for the next underground nuclear test or solar flare to activate and send the nations children into a entranced quest for destruction.

There are few things that offer a great substitute from everyday life like the video game.  They allow kids and adults alike to try on different persona, go to different places and accomplish things that seem humanly impossible.  In this way games can be incredibly redeeming alternatives to a strictly structured world that is barely understandable to adults, let alone kids.  The fact that we fill this need primarily through the language of violence is somewhat troublesome and should demand an alternative.

As mountain bikers we may hold the antidote.  Our sport offers both a comprehensively different  environment and the capacity to perform super human tasks.  We offer the escape from the manicured and stifling urban environment and the ability to fly.  Riding challenges both coordination, strategy and offers a sense of accomplishment unrivaled by even the finest video game.

While I could go on about the advantages of cycling, doing so would be preaching to the choir.  It is riders that I expect to be reading this post, not the would be zombies (are zombies even literate?).  Like any good zombie flick the money scene isn’t developing the antidote it is in delivering it.

Mountain biking enjoys a sort of isolated and perpetual adolescence.  For most riders, the sport is an opportunity to shrug responsibility, not take it on.  For the most dedicated this might mean a sort of monastic dedication to the arts of minimal employment and irresponsibility, burdens taken on so the rest of the world doesn’t have to.  The side effect of this is riders tend to view their communities as something to get away from rather than invest in.

Zombies don’t knock and they certainly don’t care if you’d rather be riding than worrying about your 401(k).  That said, riders have the unique opportunity to improve their communities and ensure the longevity of the sport for years to come.  Quite simply, Mountain biking is the Bruce Campbell of this zombie pic.

Not only our future, but the future of the human race depends on getting more kids on bikes.   This means signing up to coach a middle school or high school team.  If there isn’t a league, make one.  Volunteer with your community youth programs, or donate one of your old bikes to a kid who is looking to take up racing.  Form a cycling club to help get kids interested to the sport to the trail or to help them out with the occasional race fee.

For too long mountain bikers have been afraid about what the mainstream world might do to them.  But now, as the mainstream world has gotten itself into the unenviable pickle of being anihilated by its own offspring, we have a chance to do something to it.