I’m not yet prepared to watch The Walking Dead premiere yet.

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So, no spoilers, thx.

When I like a show such as this one, I typically wait, save up all the episodes, and then (instead of taking a holiday – or even weekly weekend off like most normal folk) I allot a personal holiday at home for binging on that show. Dark as “Dead” might be, it’s easier to not feel terribly bad about myself or get too horrible a perspective on the world because when the real zombie apocalypse comes, I’m prepared: 1. I won’t be as dumb as they are. 2. I WON’T BE AS DUMB AS THEY ARE. (Really. What kind of people know their magic Harry Potter shield against being eaten by a macabre mob lies in the chopping off of zombie mandibles and arms before leashing them up like labradors – and yet refuse to use exactly that tool everywhere they go? To stay alive?) #doubleduh

Maybe that’s part of why I need a break from season to season. Too many of these sorts of duh moments can be the stimulus for anti-orgasm in my brain. So, instead, my own brain proceeded in doing what it does best and thinking of other related matters (in this case, entertainment zombie narratives that make no sense).

Like “Thriller” for instance.

More specifically, the bit before Jackson cadaver dances in the street with his rotting posse. Revisiting the infamous movie theater scene in my brain for the millionth time, my mental red marker stopped momentarily over it. And after recalling how the chick freaks out about the teen werewolf flick that they’re watching (to the point where she was upset with him for thinking it was delightful), I had a bit of a mental twitch.

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One that never occurred to me during any of my eleventy hundred and twelve prior viewings. (Although, mayhaps it was the real subconsch. reason it kept me up at night as child? Skeptical ruminations brewing beneath the distracting surface fear of nightmarish deadsies? Which were made more terrifying in their capacity for perfect choreography?)

So, I had to ask my dear friends of Facebook the following:

“Why weren’t Michael Jackson and his girlfriend more freaked out (in Thriller) about the fact that the movie that they were watching in the theater starred them somehow? It’s not as if they were meant to be the actors, sitting there and watching the premiere. Her reaction made that obvious.”

In the event that you’ve not seen this delightful piece since the 80’s, I’ll re-share.

Watch, enjoy, get in the spirit o’ Halloween, and then report back here with your assessment.

‘cause convos like these are my one distraction from becoming a T.V. series zombie myself.