It's not the teeth that suck

I have a question that I wish to pose to the universe:

Does anyone besides me remember a time when vampires were scary?

This question has been brought to the surface because of the recent popularity of the Twilight series of novels, the latest literary phenomenon that has every teenage girl (and plenty of emotionally stunted young women) foaming at the mouth like rapid honey badgers at the mere mention of the books; and in the name of all that is holy, don't mention the movie or risk being torn apart like a dime store pinata (ComicCon this year taught us this lesson all too late, lest we forget). Another contemporary catalyst is Alan Ball's new series TrueBlood on HBO. Although I am a huge of of Six Feet Under, I fear that Mr. Ball may have sold his soul to a rediculous fad.

These two entries are only the most recent of a serious epidemic in our society: the systematic castration of vampires. What was once a terrifying spawn of evil has become an over-sexed wet dream for people with overactive imaginations. How did we go from Bela Lugosi to Robert Pattinson? I suppose Anne Rice has her fair share to do with it, but I won't solely saddle her with the blame. I don't like to point fingers, but if she can do for Jesus what she did for vampires, religion is about to get a lot more interesting.

I have never understood the sexual appeal of vampires. I'm not knocking sexual fantasy here, but what is it about a reanimated corpse shambling out of its grave, turning into a rabies-ridden bat, flying into your room while you sleep, and drain you of your life essence is sexy? I get that the neck is an erogenous zone, and biting can be an exciting part of foreplay, but really? It's a reanimated corpse! I will repeat that for any of you who delude yourselves with that horse shit about vampires being a seperate race, or some result of scientific experimentation...a re-a-ni-ma-ted corpse. One who has been dead for an indeterminate amount of time and has mytically been given the ability to move around. This is a broad definition of course, since nearly every culture across the planet has some kind of vampire mythology.

Even worse are those few nuts out there who think thay they are actual vampires. Again, everyone's free to live your lives as you please, but for godssake! The real shame is that these people are incredibly outgoing and creative. They could write the next great novel or direct the next great film, but instead, they waste their creative juices on lame The Crow-inspired costumes and lamer goth club scenes.

Y'know, in some parts of the world, vampires are given the respect they deserve. Many a small village in Eastern Europe still carry around small holy relics and hommade fetishes to ward off such profane abominations of nature's laws. They carry out burial rituals to ensure that their deceased loved ones don't become the walking damned. These people have it right.

I say, if we're going to embrace this whole "monsters are hot" thing, let's be all inclusive. Let's do it werewolf style (it's the same as doggystyle, only during a full moon) and watch zombie porn ("Zombie have brain delivery!" *bow chicka wa wow*). Don't forget ladies, Frankenstein's monster has detachable parts. We can have Red Cap orgies and bugger yetis until the kelpies come home. They've got it all at Crazy Fritz's Supernatural Sex Emporium!

If any of these suggestions are actually turning you on, you need help and should call a therapist. Consider this an intervention.