You're Not Prepared For A Zombie Apocalypse by Any Stretch of the Imagination
All this talk about the global pandemic of inexplicably aggressive behavior, strange skin disorders, face eating, self mutilation, intestine throwing, and the dead rising from their graves has predictably got a lot of folks talking about zombie...
All this talk about the global pandemic of inexplicably aggressive behavior, strange skin disorders, face eating, self mutilation, intestine throwing, and the dead rising from their graves has predictably got a lot of folks talking about zombie apocalypses in one way shape or form. Some have decried the exploitive nature of the news coverage, while most have reveled in the gruesome Fangoria-esque horror of it all.
Up front I feel compelled to point out that the world right now is plenty deranged regardless of any of these so-called zombie crimes. What with the economy a never-ending nightmarish topic that’s only getting worse, it’s safe to assume that many people alive in 2012 have been anxiety-ridden pill heads for longer than they’ve had to worry about some naked dude devouring their face. (Keep in mind that most of the time actual zombies are too catatonic to care about your face.) Not convinced that we’re permanently neurotic? Here’s another fun fact of modern reality for you: if you live in the United States, your president has a secret kill list that he scratches names off of like Beatrix Kiddo whenever one of his flying robots turns someone on it into a smoldering pile of ash, even if it means killing his/her entire family in the process. And he does this after he consults a grizzled Chief of Counterterroism who has essentially been entrusted to be a kind of moral arbiter. Essentially, today’s general climate can be described like the love child of a John Carpenter movie and a Brian Wood graphic novel.
Even if there were a zombie apocalypse looming, all you rave pants-wearing mall rats, eating pocky and taking notes while watching The Walking Dead, with The Zombie Survival Guide clutched under your pale, skinny arm have no idea what’s in store, and so I must vent.
Loving the zombie apocalypse means you have issues
To fetishize the idea of a zombie apocalypse is essentially admitting a very dark truth about yourself: you look forward to the day when you can kill a stranger with impunity. Zombification provides easy answers to any pesky sort of moral question fetishists might have in regard to murder. In the context of the zombie apocalypse, a human has effectively been reduced to a corpse waiting to be ground into a bloody mess with a lawnmower. The lesson for the living? Sleep with one eye open around zombie lovers. They’re basically George Zimmerman with a flair for the supernatural and a love of Hot Topic.
You aren’t ready to kill your mother
Let’s be serious for a second, folks. Murdering strangers is all well and good but it’s high time you accept a very simple truth about the zombie apocalypse: when people start turning, it ain’t gonna be that jock who picked on you in high school or that casually racist mouthbreather who uses his man boobs as a pillow that you’ll be meant to kill, it’s going to be someone you love. Hell, at some point it’s probably going to be your mom. Are you ready to do that? Let’s ruminate on that idea for a moment. First, you’ll have to deal with the crushing psychological weight that your mother has died. Huge bummer. Next, you’re going to need to accept that what remains of her is now a mindless killing machine. Finally, you’re going to need to quickly grab whatever weapon you can, which will probably be some nearby kitchen utensil or blunt instrument like a hammer and agonizingly, slowly, and messily chop and/or bludgeon her to re-death. Once you’re done with her, you’re going to need to do the exact same thing to your father, significant other, brother, sister, best friend, etc. I’d wager that in that first moment of hesitation when you’re trying to cope with your mother’s death you’d be ripped into at least five pieces and eaten alive by the neighbors teenage son and his skateboarder friends.
You’ve never even been in a fight, how are you going to kill?
If someone attacks you on the street, you’ll probably piss yourself and empty your wallet. That’s cool, I’d probably do the same thing. Being attacked sucks but for some reason a lot of people think that if they were put in a compromising situation they’d stand and fight until their dying breath. Unfortunately, this is a pretty rare occurrence. It’s not that people don’t have the strength to continue fighting, it’s just that in the face of an essentially no win situation, something in our brains just tells us to accept things and give in. Every now and then there’s a person born with a genetic anomaly that makes him/her less prone to fear. My friend Billy JJ is one such person, he’s crazy and fears nothing. He works in finance but he probably should have been a bomb technician or something. People like Billy JJ (firefighters, soldiers, etc) probably stand a chance, but you with your Fulcci box set and Night of the Living Dead tattoo are probably out of luck no matter how many times you’ve seen Dead Alive.
Fact: you’re not a survivor
Why, in a world where people have grown not just dependent but damn-near physically attached to their mobile devices does everyone fancy themselves some kind of woodland survivalist? There are a lot of real world things a true survivor is going to have to know to last even a day in any sort of post-apocalyptic landscape, let alone one populated with roving hordes of undead cannibals. No amount of artisanal meat knowledge, craft beer snobbiness, Range Rover ownership, or cache of ridiculously overpriced REI camping gear will save your not-knowing-how-to-read-a-god-damn compass ass from the gnarling teeth of your recently deceased ex-girlfriend. Good luck with your roof garden.
You ruined zombies for me
Back in 2000 I moved to Western Massachusetts and quickly fell in with the local hardcore punk music scene. There, zombies (and horror films in general) received ample tribute in song and dance. The zombie mosh/circle pit was king in those halcyon days when Dawn of the Dead was a common common topic of conversation over many a 40-ounce. The zombie seemed cool then, like a forgotten relic that was cherished by a select few. This was before the deluge of shitball remakes, the disappointing crop of modern Romero films, zombie walks, et al. Somewhere around the mid 2000s, 28 Days Later came out and it was all down hill from there. I got Shaun Of The Dead, but was it worth not being able to enjoy my Last In Line records anymore?