All posts in November 2012

There are two possibilities: The man in the blue container thought of this. If so, he’s probably a protozombie and does not have much time left. His friends are most likely in about the same shape. A more intriguing possibility is that his friends decided to use public waste management services to dispose of their former friend. This idea might have some potential if we could find a way to keep the container upright. Could a zombie climb out of a large, blue waste container? Maybe not. If we just made these blue plastic boxes a little taller, we could ensure that no zombie could climb out. Once this zombie knocks the can over, though, he will be able to slither out.

I see an entrepreneurial opportunity for the man or woman who creates the cradles needed to keep the waste containers upright. Other related opportunities include truck incineration systems to insure that no zombies drag themselves out of the garbage truck, since mashing may be inadequate for our purposes. A large market will obviously exist for protective gear for waste management personnel.

Like cars that run on hydrogen, this is an idea whose time has come. Also like those hydrogen cars, this is an idea whose time may go whizzing right by. Just as the hydrogen car stagnates, waiting for hydrogen stations, the zombie waste management system may go undeveloped waiting for zombies.

Will we have the foresight to enter this market in time?

I was surprised to discover Buffy was real. Who knew there were actually vampire slayers?

Ahhzz brahhzzdddduhzguhvuur (B)uhhvvveezzz reel. ooohhhnoohhzzuhhrr ahglee ahhbayrrzzullayerrs?

It was way too close. I was on my way to work, not really thinking about the threat. Humans hardly do think about the threat until it is upon them. Even then, as soon as the immediate danger passes, they may start reflecting upon where they will go to get that beer or piece of cheesecake to drive the recent attack from their mind. As a race, we seem to have a lot of difficulty focusing. I note that the day after the Obama/Romney election, Yahoo had reverted to headlining Cameron Diaz’s spiffy dress. That’s us.

But I’m walking into school when suddenly I’m grabbed from behind. The damage looks bad in the picture but it’s pretty much just jagged fingerbones ripping through my respectable, gray shirt. I wrenched away and started to run, but he/it grabbed my knee and again I had to force my way out of  that bony grip. I was lucky. This guy had obviously been dead a long while. His reach exceeded his grasp.

I’m sorry to say the high school’s a total loss. Oh, they look OK. They can pass for your average adolescents and they are pretending to eat the Uncrustables for breakfast and the pizza for lunch. But I can see below the surface. It won’t be long before they fully convert. I’m staying for now, though. Someone has to keep the world posted.

Never ask a zombie for directions. Even if you speak zombie, most zombies have little sense of direction. Zombies also have little sense of innate helpfulness. They’ll send you to Atlanta without a moment’s hesitation.

Brains taste better with salsa. Cilantro is a big help.

So the zombie apocalypse has captured the hearts and minds of many of us throughout the world. The usual explanations include ideas such as our desire to show that we are up to the ultimate challenge, able to escape this fearsome threat. That fits with the reality TV of our time. Alternative explanations:
1) We desperately crave a simpler lifestyle. On some level, we want the power to go out. We want the very electronics that define our daily lives to cease to function.
2) We figure it’s time to cull the herd anyway.
3) We’d rather nothing changed but we’ve watched so many scary movies that we can’t help but believe The Threat is Out There.
4) We actually want to get it over with. Zombification would not be our fault but would eliminate Monday from our lives.

I’m sure the answer lies somewhere in there for many people, although simple explanations are usually at least partially wrong where humans are concerned. Most of us are too big a psychological mess to neatly fit into any one box.

(May YOU are, the reader thinks.)

I voted. All I had to do was tap the screen. They will never know I have forgotten how to read. 

The ultimate test of the ability to function under pressure will be the zombie apocalypse. Do you think either of those guys is up to the challenge? I don’t. They’re both a bit too prone to the interpretive dance. Mitt and Barack will be gathering intelligence and interpreting the facts while Cleveland is turning into a smorgasbord.

The key to stairs is to use the railing.

Duhhgeed dairzzz uhzzoozze duhhrrrlllihnn.

The weird thing is — there is no zombie Monday. No zombie Friday. The undead are oblivious to the day or date. They are oblivious to the presence or absence of morning coffee. This is the proverbial no-brainer, but it’s worth taking a few moments to contemplate how many little details go into our operational definition of a normal human. By recognizing the boxes we live in, we can begin to identify people who are stepping outside the boxes, who may be going over even as they shamble away from the chocolate chip cookies.