Sharing the World with the Undead

I prefer to live in the moment.

Ahhbbuhr ihhb ihdda ohhhnnnt.

Turkey heads are high in fiber you know.

Duhjhrgee uuddzzzuhhr ayynn vhwayhvuhrr oohhnohh.

What became of those heads? I assume we are not breeding headless turkeys, although almost no one really knows what goes on inside poultry farms. The farmers don’t talk and the turkeys can’t talk. It’s an ideal set-up for a conspiracy.

Let’s say, for example, that the government is breeding zombies as part of a biological warfare program. How will they keep these zombies alive while they are not active in the field? This calls for a large quantity of brain matter.

What animals arrive annually at the end of November — always conspicuously missing their heads?

The headless turkey. Coincidence? Or something far more sinister?

Who is eating those turkey heads? Where do they go?

Ooozze eedihzzzz duhhrgee ehddzz? Ehhhrrrdd day gohh?

(Zombie have great trouble keeping track of the days.)

Why do they take the head off the turkey? Where do the heads go? I want to find the secret head repository. 

The Cremation Amendment will be a good start, but we still need to prepare. Preparedness — because those zombies aren’t going to kill themselves. We need at least one more amendment.

It occurs to me that allowing Congress to approve the Secretary of Zombie Affairs, as is commonly the case with presidential appointments, creates a possible problem that needs to be formally addressed. Just as we once created an amendment to allow the President to move the site of the U.S. government in an emergency, I believe we will need an amendment allowing for immediate appointment of a Secretary of Zombie Affairs. In fact, that whole congressional approval requirement may need to be amended to allow for emergency appointments during apocalyptic times. If zombies eat the Secretary of State, we can’t sit around waiting for enough members of Congress to battle their way through the streets to begin arguing about the next appointment.

The Emergency Presidential Appointment Amendment obviously ought to be approved as quickly as possible. We can’t wait around like we have with the electoral college for the next Al Gore. There should always be a few working brains in the U.S. government.

A harmless museum in Europe somewhere? Or a repository for the undead? At what point do the dead cease to be dead? I don’t know and neither do you.

We need an amendment requiring cremation of all the dead. Just to kill (and cremate) two birds with one stone, we might link this to an amendment eliminating the electoral college, requiring that the U.S. Presidential candidate with the most votes be the automatic winner. The President will naturally nominate the Secretary of Zombie Affairs.

The preceding translation ought to give us pause. If rendered correctly, we again must face the possibility that our zombie model has been overly simplified. This zombie is planning. This zombie shows problem-solving skills, like the raptors turning doorknobs in Jurassic Park.

On the other hand, the zombie’s comments also suggest a solution to a problem that no doubt many of us have been curious about. After we lock Uncle Sid or Cousin Thug Wannabe in the shed, how do we feed them? Clearly we don’t want to unchain the shed door.

Mice and rats seem the obvious solution to our problems. Reptile owners across the United States have been feeding mice to their pets forever. All you need to do is drill a little hole in the shed wall.

Now mice? Just like soft-shell crabs. They are hard to catch, though. I have been thinking of breeding them.

Nahhwmm eyzz? chuhzz lahhy zuhvv zjuhll guhrrvvs. Zayrr ahhrddd gahdgezohh. Ahhvv=uhhn zihnghhihnuvv vreedihnzzuhhm.