Last night Lawrence had yet another werewolf invasion. We survived it splendidly this time, although a few out-of-towners ended up in the hospital with minor contusions. How was it, you may ask, that we managed to defend ourselves successfully against an assault by such dangerous creatures? Well ever since the infamous raid of 1863, in which William Quantrill and his men burned the city to the ground, people here have been a bit anxious about guarding our borders. Determined that such an attack should never again occur without warning, our forefathers went and hired themselves a town crier. This tradition has continued through the years and is still in practice today. In essence, this elected individual is the caretaker of the city. He or she volunteers to live in a tent outside the city limits and alert everyone when there is an imminent threat. It's a system that served us well last night—when the town crier came riding into town on his Vespa, shouting over a bullhorn about a coming werewolf attack, we had just enough time to fortify our homes and cast a smattering of protective voodoo incantations. Then a massive thunderstorm rolled in, and out of the storm came werewolves. It was an impressive sight. Each werewolf was at least seven feet tall, and there were at least three hundred of them, running in formation like some sort of crazed football team.

Interesting Sidenote: Hundreds of years ago in Kansas, werewolves used to roam the plains in massive herds, just like buffalo. However, their continued existence has been jeopardized in recent years by the vagaries of fashion. This season in particular I've been seeing a lot of sweaters that have been trimmed with a swatch of real werewolf fur. (This type of fur has got a lovely silky quality to it, and the sheer bulk of it makes for a dramatic appearance.) Look, I'm not going to preach at you, but I can tell you that I just wouldn't feel right about wearing a holiday sweater trimmed with werewolf fur unless I had killed the beast myself in self-defense. If that ever happens, though, I will wear the pelt as a badge of honor. Like a Viking trophy.

At any rate, the werewolves in our town were tough critters, and it took a mountain of silver bullets to bring them down. Cheers to those paranoid militia guys, whose massive armamentarium finally came in handy. But the episode has gotten me thinking. This whole werewolf thing has some serious philosophical, even ontological, implications. What goes on in the mind of a werewolf? Unlike vampires, who are actually dead (and therefore more likely to harbor a somewhat perverse worldview), werewolves are living human beings who simply transform into monsters whenever Andy Williams sings "Moon River." With this in mind, what sort of attitude would the afflicted have toward their own humanity? That is to say, would their behavior while 'wolved' be voluntary? Would they retain the same sense of conscience that is present in their human form? Do they know what they are doing? One could say that they just do what they do, and they should not be blamed for their violent deeds any more than an actual wolf should be blamed for killing a rabbit for food. But this relies heavily on assumption. The real question is, can it be proved empirically?

A Brief Experiment to Determine Whether Werewolves Have Free Will

Question: Do werewolves have free will?

Hypothesis: Werewolves do not have free will.

Methods: Standard inquiry—each werewolf was asked to fill out a questionnaire designed to analyze his or her life choices, as well as to participate in a thrice-monthly phone survey.

Results: More than 90 percent of participants responded to the inquiry by shredding the paper questionnaire, growling in a menacing manner over the phone, and attempting to devour the individuals who had been sent to collect the results. The remaining 10 percent defecated on the questionnaire.

Conclusion: Clearly, these werewolves don't experience free will, or they would not have exhibited such hostility in the presence of our researchers. I mean, who doesn't respect the scientific method? Crazy werewolves, that's who.

So there you have it.

If you're really looking for information about werewolves, of course, there is plenty of anecdotal evidence throughout history. (This is often referred to as "lore" by those who have never witnessed a swarm of these creatures in their hometown.) But in the arena of pop culture, werewolves are a somewhat neglected subject. They are not as hip as vampires, and they don't have the comic appeal of zombies. All they really have going for them is that that they can grow lots of hair and ingest epic portions of meat. By itself, this behavior is not particularly impressive—most people know somebody like this who isn't a werewolf at all, just a slob. If you examine the times when werewolves do appear in the media, however, you'll observe an interesting trend. The original, definitive werewolf role was played by a barely pubescent Michael Landon (I Was a Teenage Werewolf). This iconic figure was recreated years later—letterjacket and all—by both Michael J. Fox and Michael Jackson. From this we learn a very important fact. All werewolves are named Michael. Naturally, this doesn't mean that every man named Michael is a werewolf (although this is probably the case). It just means we should keep a close watch on anyone with that name. Consider the following:

1. Michael Douglas (Wall Street werewolf)
2. Michael Madsen (redneck werewolf)
3. Michael York ("do you bite your thumb at me" werewolf)
4. Michael Crichton (Jurassic werewolf)
5. Mike Tyson (ear-fetish werewolf)
6. Michael Rosenbaum (kryptonite-slinging werewolf)
7. Michael Jordan (athletic werewolf)
8. Michael Caine (aristocratic werewolf)
9. Michael the Archangel (holy werewolf, Batman)
10. Michael Meyers (British werewolf with bad teeth)
11. Michael Myers (werewolf who lives down the street from Jamie Lee Curtis)
12. Michael Ian Black (sarcastic werewolf)
13. Dangermike (guy-I-went-to-grad-school-with werewolf)
14. Michael Bolton (sucktastic music werewolf)

Whether or not we are ready to acknowledge them, werewolves are a part of everyday life, especially for those of us living in the heartland. They are a fearsome species for sure, but with a little preparation they can be dispatched with minimal casualties. My advice: get yourself a town crier. Have a good supply of two-by-fours on hand. And remember, although a certain beer company may advertise its product as "the silver bullet," it's better to use actual ballistics in a time of werewolf crisis. (Unless of course your goal is to get so trashed you pass out and sleep through the attack. Then beer is just the thing.)

Peace out.

Tags: scared