No, not the vegan generation ... Or the generation defined by Gartner as the achievement and digital media driven societal populace. No, not those.
Yes, Twilight. Yes, True Blood. Yes, the revival of Dracula, Buffy, Cruise and Pitt, and the book versions of all that--from Rice to Meyer, from L.J. Smith to the Sookie Stackhouse novels. And they're soo all that. Bubblegum, greasy hair, werewolves, and all. The critics. The pessimists. The cultural elitists. They--some of you--aren't just being told that we--the fans--don't care, but you're being told that you're missing out. Big time.
There's this magical and imaginative ingredient to life that lends a taste of fantasy to the reality that is planet Earth. Suspended disbelief. Add a cup of whimsy and two cups of passion or sexuality (whatever you prefer, chocolate chips or nuts), and it's more than an addictive plot, a compelling story, an aphrodisiac. It's an escape that shows us a pathway to surviving the daily grind, the stress of work, the drama of relationships, and the pressure of a down economy or a life in limbo. Forget Tolstoy and Dickens. Forget nonfiction. Perhaps this pop phenomenon has fantastic timing, and by timing I mean people's excellent choice to adopt and revive. If the smaller group of skeptics could take a jaunt down from their ivory tower, they could frolick in the fields of a more simplistic, vintage, and charming fantasy here with the rest of us and stop lying to themselves.
Okay, so maybe you really, honestly, truly don't like the subject matter or the style, or one or two of the vampire entertainment options. But then humor us with sincerity. Our love is legit. Our likes and conversations are worthy. There's warmth and depth and dark comedy and intensity. There's cleverness and morals to the stories. There's kosher, G-rated versions that skip swearing and sex. There's HBO versions that... well, you know, sex and violence, la dee dah--stomach only what you can; it's a free country (one day, I'll refer to the world more when this blog goes international, but I'm not big in Japan right now so hang on a couple years). Just a little respect, please, that's all we ask for when we enter the zone of fandom as we find others like us. Hey, maybe all this hotness and trending and merchandising and marketing means it's worth trying out 100 pages or catching a movie outside the comfort zone for friends. These ventures won't bite. That's how I got sucked in. I'm sorry, no more puns. But it's just so fangtastically easy. Okay, done.
But I digress in other ways too. I've moved from being a Generation Vampire member and advocate to a participant and commrade, reminiscing and discussing and relishing with my fellow V addicts. My loyalty is un-squash-able, un-shame-able. So much so I've abandoned words to describe it. My last ditch effort is to have the reluctant at least try a little suspension of disbelief in another genre. Even if this formula helps you enjoy a predictable or abstract movie a bit more, I've made a difference. Not the kind of difference that will lead to philanthropy and alternative energy, but a little glamor that will put you in the vein of escape.
Just had a couple more left in me.
Image courtesy of SodaHead.com.