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In Stephen King's novel "Pet Semetary," Judd Crandall utters the memorable line: "Sometimes dead is better," which became the tagline for the forgettable 1989 film adaptation.

This statement refers to protagonist Louis Creed and the burial of his deceased loved ones in the local pet cemetery, which had resurrective powers. The statement is intriguing. When man plays God and manipulates the natural order of the universe, the results are disastrous.

Death is a universal fear, and nobody would doubt that it's safer, emotionally and physically, to explore the concept of death in literature and film. Death is an inevitability people ultimately need to reconcile in their consciousness. Whether it's the loss of a pet, the loss of a loved one, or the contemplation of their own demise, people ultimately deal with death.

Certainly the science-fiction and fantasy genres have a place for this theme. W.W. Jacobs explored the folly of man cheating death in "The Monkey's Paw." The moral of this story is simple: Those who try to cheat death ultimately end up wishing for it. And let's not forget "Frankenstein," which demonstrates the folly of man playing God when Dr. Frankenstein creates life from death.

However, the creative forces behind modern entertainment have trivialized the concept of death to the point of making it ridiculous. Genre shows are overusing the concept of temporary death ("Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "Supernatural" and "Heroes" come to mind), and it is becoming a tired cliche used to bring in viewers during sweeps week. For death to be meaningful, it needs to be permanent.

When introduced properly, cheating death can be a central, orienting element. The Cylons in "Battlestar Galactica" are defined by their ability to respawn. In "Torchwood," it is known from the beginning that Capt. Jack Harkness is unable to die. In "Heroes," Claire Bennet's super power is her inability to stay injured or dead, and it is a defining element of her character. These characters generally are exceptions to the rule, but increasingly, the rules are being broken, and the results are disappointing.

For instance, in Season 2 of "Heroes," Claire's blood was used not only to heal others, but to bring them back to life. This represents an inductive leap which is illogical and cheapens the magnitude of death. Prior to her blood bringing her father, Noah Bennet, back to life, Claire's blood had never been used to heal others, let alone bring them back to life. Healing and resurrection are not synonymous. Just because Claire could heal herself does not mean that her blood could heal others. A starfish can regrow its own limbs if severed, but that does not mean their DNA can be used to grow back fins on another fish.

Having two characters die (Noah and Maya) only to be resurrected within 10 minutes is a cheap trick that renders the concept of death trivial.

"Battlestar Galactica's" creators are equally guilty of killing off the ultra-popular Kara "Starbuck" Thrace, only to announce that she'd be returning for the final season. If Starbuck is the final Cylon, then it makes sense within the construct of the show's premise. If not, then it becomes little more than a publicity stunt to generate a buzz about a show with declining ratings. In fairness, this storyline has yet to be resolved, so I will reserve judgment.

Perhaps no show in recent memory exploited the concept of temporary death more than "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." In the Season 2 finale, Buffy killed off her true love Angel only to have an announcement of the "Angel" spinoff series announced within minutes of the show's conclusion. Buffy herself died in what should have been the series finale in Season 5 only to be resurrected long enough to produce two more mediocre seasons. A large part of Buffy's appeal as a heroine was that she willingly faced danger while other kids her age faced acne. Having her die only to be brought back practically neutered her character.

At least in the science-fiction and fantasy genres, cheating death has a better chance of being explained, but genre programs aren't the only ones trivializing the concept of death. The biggest travesty was the "Dallas" debacle during the 1980s in which Bobby Ewing was brought back only to reveal that everything that happened for the 1985-86 season was just a dream. During the final season of "Alias," fans witnessed the death of Michael Vaughn, only to find him alive at the end of the series. And Season 7 of "24" features the return of Tony Almeida, who apparently died in Season 5.

Are writers so incapable of creating new, exciting characters that they have to dig up discarded ones from the grave? Do they possess so little creativity that they simply can't create a new character and explore new possibilities? Perhaps the blame lies with the corporate heads running the studios, who prefer to treat characters and programs as recognizable brand names rather than works of art.

Or is it the fans, whose ability to accept the death of a favorite character is so poor that they immediately express their anger and start pointless "bring back our character" campaigns? Being upset over a character's death is a normal response and pays tribute to the writer's ability to exact an emotional response over an imaginary character. When people are overly angry, upset or distraught and demand a character's return, a disturbing inability to deal with death is revealed. If you don't believe me, read Stephen King's "Misery," which explores this theme in detail, equating this concept to mental illness.

In order to truly appreciate a heroic character, sometimes dead isn't just better -- sometimes it's necessary.

Homework
"The Monkey's Paw" by W.W. Jacobs
"Misery" by Stephen King

Dan Compora is an associate professor at the University of Toledo, and contributes SciFi 101 twice monthly for Airlock Alpha. He can be reached at drdan@airlockalpha.com.