Vampire Fight

*Note on the picture above: This may appear to be a fight between a bear and a vampire, but the vampire on the left is merely wearing a bear costume. The other vampire's bulging right forearm is obstructing your view of the zipper.

Months ago I watched the TNT original movie “The Librarian: Curse of the Judas Chalice.” It was shortly after Thanksgiving, I believe, which gave me an excuse to watch lame television with my parents.

“The Librarian” depicts the science-fiction adventures of a witty scholar who vacations in New Orleans where he encounters a plot-line that's basically “Indiana Jones” meets “The Da Vinci Code,” with a special effects-budget funded by quarters raided from a ski-ball machine at the Planet Hollywood location in Atlanta. The main character, played by E.R. alum Noah Wyle, shares the wry cleverness of Indiana Jones, but unlike Indy, he lacks prowess in both hand-to-hand and whip-to-sword combat. The doctor turned librarian relies on a seductive French vampire chick to save him from the attacks of ex-KGB henchmen. Whereas Indy's punches resounded like the THWACKS of propeller blades when a helicopter crashes sideways into the ocean, the Librarian couldn't punch his way through a paper bag.

Comparisons to Robert Langdon from “The Da Vinci Code” would only slow the momentum of this essay, and besides, the case could be made that the Librarian is a more appealing hero than his counterpart, the Harvard-educated symbologist with greasy-skunk hair.

Anyway: “The Librarian” climaxes with an airborne tussle between Mademoiselle Vampire and Prince Vlad Dracula in a New Orleans bayou; all the while the Librarian is busy twiddling his thumbs, shin-deep in a hurricane-ravaged puddle of his own urine. As the vampires grappled with each other, vanishing and then reappearing twenty feet in the air and exchanging supernaturally charged punches, my brain was inundated with consternated questions about the nature of a vampire fight.

When two vampires are engaged in battle, are they determined to sink their teeth into their rival's throat, or to plunge a stake into the other's heart? Vampires kill by chomping throats, but they are killed by a stake through the heart. The paradoxical question is: When vampires fight, are they driven by their instinct for killing, or driven by the instinct to kill their opponent? Are they concerned with the only way they know how to slay, or are they concerned with the only way to slay their opponent? For my money, a Vampire Fight is a real mind-fuck of a stalemate.

***

"Vampire Fight" is one of 40 comedic essays included in my book. If you'd like to order a copy of "There Will be Blog," I'm cool with that.

www.xlibris.com/NickOlig.html