Undead use a little mischief to shake up society's zombies

It was a sight to behold, for sure. Some 70 zombies walking, limping, dragging their rigid limbs down Market Street, a lumbering mass of decomposing flesh reanimated on a crisp autumn afternoon in Ballard.

Traffic slowed. Throngs of the living stopped and stared. Some fled. A few pretended that the monstrosities before their very eyes did not exist. (I do not see dead people! I do not see dead people!)


		Steve Shelton / Special to the P-I
	Heather Porter of Des Moines limped down Market Street in Ballard with about 70 other zombies on Saturday, the first of three monster invasions scheduled to go streetside in Seattle this Halloween season.

"The hardest part," murmured one zombie (his name Dan Garlington before death got a good grip), "is trying not to smile." He grinned then, from ear to fetid ear, his crinkled cheeks speckled with maggots.

Hell hath wrought many an aberration on this earth ... but happy zombies? Giggling ghouls who snicker as they plead for "Braaaains?" What madness is this?

"I thought it was a bowling team at first," said Scott Anderson of Seattle, who was busy knocking down a few pins at Sunset Bowl when the undead started shuffling by, demanding gray matter. "They just kept coming and coming."

Saturday's Zombie Walk was the first of three monster invasions scheduled to go streetside in Seattle this Halloween season. Part performance art, part traveling costume party, the Zombie Walks are a protest against the zombiefication of our television nation. They're an opportunity for those with an exhibitionist's bent to shock and amuse. They're good, clean holiday fun.

"They can be a lot of things to a lot of people," says Cleo Wolfus, the 30-year-old Seattle jewelry designer who masterminded these days of the undead.

It also happens that these Zombie Walks are the latest in a growing number of guerrilla-style events organized grass-roots style on the Internet by some of Seattle's best jesters and jokers, a loose-knit band of merry makers and malcontents dedicated to grabbing the humdrum firmly by the ears and giving it a good shake.

"Tweaking perceptions, that's what interests me," says Ivan Cockrum, the organizing force behind two such events -- Santarchy and Brides of March.

On Dec. 10, a herd of a hundred-plus unruly Santas will storm the streets as part of an annual soiree known as Santarchy (think Old St. Nick plus anarchy and you get the idea). In the spring, the Brides of March (dozens of brides of both genders) will flounce and flurry about Seattle in their flowing whites and will then wed themselves to one phallic city icon or another (in years past they've married the Space Needle and Hammering Man).

And then there's the Guerrilla Masquerade Parties. On any weekend -- no telling when or where -- a mob of costume-clad partiers might just descend upon your favorite watering hole, transforming it into an instant costume ball.

"Our motto is: Dress up, go out and take over because Halloween isn't often enough," says Garlington, who not only turned out for the Zombie Walk, but also organizes the Guerrilla Masquerade Parties under his better-known identity: Dirty Bunny.

On Saturday night, the Twilight Exit became the target of his latest takeover. Word went out over the Internet and, presto! the place was packed to its smoky ceiling not with the usual jeans-and-T-shirt crowd ... but with superheroes and their sidekicks.

Spandex and capes were the evening wear of choice. Wolverine made an appearance, as did a host of lesser-known crime-fighters. There was Super Dog and her sidekick, Captain Ketchup. There was Super Glue and his partner, Super Visor.

"When you're in a costume you feel less inhibited," said Captain Ketchup (aka Michele Brown, 31, of Seattle) as she maneuvered through the crowd dressed like a caped condiment.

"It's an attention-getter and also a conversation starter," said Super Dog (one Rose Mitchell, 29, of Seattle) who dressed like a giant hot dog. "There's this instant bond."

She was right. Though many of the costumed partyers had never met before that evening, they milled about merrily, swapping stories about their crime-fighting lairs and secret weapons, fantasy blurring with reality, a splash of booze to wash it all down.


		Steve Shelton / Special to the P-I
	Some onlookers got into the fun -- such as Alex Whalen, 6, who got a fright from Janine Gellerman of Shoreline.

Seattle certainly isn't the only city playing host to these insurrectionary adventures. Santarchy, for example, has sprung up in cities all over the world. While Wolfus thought up the Seattle Zombie Walk all on her own, it just so happens that a group of like-minded folks in Vancouver pulled off a similar stunt earlier this year -- drawing some 300 zombies.

It was the Guerrilla Queer Bar movement in San Francisco that inspired Garlington to get started. At these events (which now take place around the globe), gay revelers select a traditionally "straight" bar and invade it for a night. Garlington, however, strives to make his events more inclusive -- gay, straight, whatever. When his people overrun a bar, it's not with the hopes of driving other patrons out, but with the hopes of drawing them into the silly melee.

"The idea is to make the night a little more fun for people," said Garlington, a 30-year-old data analyst for Amazon. "If we can go into a bar and slowly dress everyone up, that's my goal."

Garlington started his Guerrilla Masquerade Parties in 2003 and has since thrown 22 of them at various unsuspecting locales, each time focusing on a different costume theme (circus freaks, pirates and medical mysteries among them).

"The bars tend to love us because we fill them up and drink a lot," Garlington says, explaining that only on the rare occasion does anyone complain.

Meanwhile Santarchy has been growing in size each year here in Seattle. Cockrum estimates that more than 120 Santas showed up for last December's daylong melee, during which the Santas rode the carousel at Westlake Park, swarmed a fetish convention and bar-hopped their way through downtown.

"I guess the thing for me that I enjoy is the juxtaposition of these elements that are common in one setting but then putting them in a completely unexpected setting," Cockrum said. "I like to think that it breaks people out of their routine for a moment and hopefully entertains them. I think it wakes people up and makes them pay attention."


		Steve Shelton / Special to the P-I
	The Zombie Walks are a protest against the zombiefication of our television nation, organizers say.

People were certainly paying attention when the zombies galumphed through Ballard Saturday. Done up in surprising detail -- oozing wounds, sloughing skin, severed limbs -- the undead were a delightfully varied bunch. Dani Rawson, a 51-year-old Seattle lawyer, strode down the street in a pale business suit next to corpselike kid brothers Andrew and Patrick Knoblauch (14 and 12 years old, respectively).

Onlookers stared and laughed and took photos with their cell phones. Some even played along, shrieking in mock horror.

"Everybody get in the ambulance," shouted Capt. Raul Angulo of the Seattle Fire Department. He and his crew from Engine 18 were in the midst of assisting a struggling homeless fellow when the zombies came marching by.

"It's too late," a zombie called back. "We're already dead."

Wolfus' fascination with death was a driving inspiration to organize the three Zombie Walks (the second one on Oct. 29th in Fremont and the third on Capitol Hill on Halloween). But for her, there's even more to it than that. She sees these events as a statement about the walking dead among us -- a wake-up call aimed at those who move mindlessly through stagnant lives.

"There are a lot of soulless people plodding along out there," she says. "It scares me."

WANNA WALK?

Most guerrilla-style antics and events are orchestrated online in a rather loose-knit style. So if you want to walk among the undead in the streets of Seattle or play the part of an unruly Santa come Christmas time, check out the following Web sites.

The next Zombie Walk is scheduled for Oct. 29th, starting 2:45 p.m. at the Troll in Fremont. The final walk will take place Oct. 31st on Capitol Hill, starting at 3:45 p.m. at the reservoir on Nagle Place and working its way to Pike Place Market. For more information visit: www.livejournal.com/users/cleozombie

For more information about the Guerrilla Masquerade Parties visit: www.gmpseattle.com

For more information about Seattle Santarchy visit: www.santarchy.com/archives.html

For more information about the Brides of March visit: www.cockrumville.com

The Cacophony Society is a good resource for all manner of "experiences beyond the mainstream." Check out www.cacophony.org.

Winda Benedetti is a Seattle-based freelance writer who can be reached at Goodgirlfriday@gmail.com.

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