Monday, September 21, 2009

Zombie Apocalypse keeping me up at night

Lately I've become increasingly concerned about a pending zombie doom. I'm not sure if it's because of the recent flood of movies, books, articles, comics, etc. all about zombies; or if I deep down in some ancient and primal part of my soul I sense that it's inevitable. After all, even the Bible talks about the undead (or "differently alive," if you're being politically correct). True, the Bible also includes The Song of Solomon, arguably the giggliest and funniest book of scripture ever, but I’m pretty sure the zombie part is for reals.

This is doctrinal, guys.

Most upsetting about this obsession with zombies are the torturous dreams I've had about trying to survive in a post-zombie-apocalyptic world. It got to be too much, watching all my dream loved-ones either get turned or eaten. Never mind that upon waking I realized none of my actual friends and family were portrayed in my dream (obviously I just love them too much to think of them that way; that, or my subconscious has an outside casting director and my real friends and family didn't make the cut), it was still horribly depressing and what's more, my dream self is always woefully unprepared for the attack. So it's clear to me that this is a warning from a higher power that I need to get in gear and get a plan - a good one - for when the zombies come.

My childhood home had the perfect setup. Conveniently located in a basement room where we kept our dried goods, candles, matches, water, etc. in case of emergencies was some sort of giant cement alcove with a small opening. While I always imagined that there might actually be bodies in that opening (seriously, what else was it for??), it would also be the perfect place to hide my body until the zombies got hungry and went looking for something else to eat. There was food, light, and a few impenetrable feet of concrete. But my family moved to Idaho, and our new basement has no such impenetrable fortress. Even worse, there’s a sliding glass door! I ask you, how will that keep zombies out? I’m surprised that my parents didn’t take that into account when they bought the house.

Oh hey, we *love* that movie! Can we just come in and watch with you?

So now my plan has been forced to change. After reading this brilliant article about how much everyone else’s awesome plans suck, I’ve carefully thought out multiple different scenarios and then one by one rejected them all:
  • After my folks’ basement, WalMart seemed the next best thing. But again there’s the glass door problem and also I’m sure that’s going to be a lot of people’s plan. While having lots of people around when the zombies come is good for tripping others and running while the zombies get them (also good in dinosaur attacks), it’s not so good for making the food last. Also, all of those people would just have the potential to suddenly become the enemy, and this enemy multiplies like crazy.
  • I could try to find some ancient monastery or convent somewhere. After all, they’re usually isolated, they tend to have a food storage of some sort, lots of books to read, and maybe a really good garden out back. But here’s the problem: already populated with either nuns or monks – possibly *zombie* nuns or monks. Also, those are usually only found in Europe.
  • I secretly buy dozens of guns, lots and lots of ammo, and a motorcycle. I become the badass superheroine from the movies, strap all the guns on, and always keep riding. The problem with this is funding. I have no such money for guns, ammo, or bikes. And where would I get gasoline when the zombies have eaten all the gas station attendants? Too bad I'm outta gas, cause I look totally awesome.


So finally, I came up with the only realistic solution: I just give in, find the least aggressive zombie and allow it to bite me so that I become one of them. After all, there are going to be billions – what’s the point in hiding? It’s not like they can’t outwait me since they're dead and have nothing better to do. I’ve already tried out the look, and it’s not too bad. I think I could pull it off. But just know: I’ll be coming for your brains first.

3 comments:

Kristina P. said...

I am slightly worried about you.

susan said...

Yeah, I worry about me too sometimes.

Lisa Sanderson said...

May I suggest the best plan of all. Just paste a "Brains expired" note on your forehead. I bet that does the trick. I mean who wants to eat brains that have gone bad?