Zombies- Problems & Solutions

The problem with Zombies is what the hell?

I'm practical. I really am.  If I wake up and there are zombies stumbling amok, I'm going to accept it.  It's not going to do me any good to yell at the Zombies,

"Hey, you make no sense.  You're decaying matter; you have no fluid coursing through your veins.  How the hell do your joints and muscles work without lubrication?"

I know people want zombies to be the living dead and think that 28 Days Later was not really a zombie movie since that was just sick people, but I think that's about the only way we'd ever see zombies for real.

That being said, the not-making-sense aspect of zombies also would be a key factor for me if it turned out there were in fact zombies.  "Okay. This shouldn't be happening, but it is.  The laws of science are out the window.  Time to propitiate  God."

I'd be pretty damn religious is what I'm saying.

Religious does not mean stupid though.

Viral or Wrath of God, the way to deal with zombies/survive are the same.

WEAPONS
BLADES- You're going to want a good blade.  I'd recommend a hatchet.  Yes, an ax might work well, but I think the length might be a problem.  You want to make sure you don't miss and that you have enough heft to get into the skull, which is why I like a hatchet/axe over a machete or sword.  The human skull is really damn hard.

I might even carry a spear too.  You laugh, but how the hell is zombie-ism transferred?  Lore has it that it comes from a bite, but I'm not taking the chance that it comes from a scratch if I don't have to.  Get a nice long spear and aim for the mouth.

It's important to have a stabbing weapon to go along with swinging weapons because if you get stuck in a contained area, say a hallway, you might not have the room to swing.  You know how much good an ax does you when you don't have room to swing it? Dick. That's how much good.

GUNS- There are many, many reasons to have the blade be the weapon of choice for Zombies.  First of all, no ammo, so you don't have to worry about running out and then being screwed.  So long as you have strength left, you can keep killin' zombies.  TV shows and books never ever talk about ammo.  Bullets are made out of lead.  Lead is damn heavy.  I wore 210 rounds of ammo on me in Iraq and that was a bitch.  210 rounds, by the way, is probably what you shot within the first 3 minutes of one of the Call of Duty games you played.  In real life, you are a hell of a lot more careful with your ammo because you don't want to be stuck in the middle of people/zombies trying to kill you with an empty gun.

You do need a gun though.  The blades will only work one with onesies and twosies coming at you.  You'd be idiotic to waste a bullet on a onesie or twosie.  First and foremost, guns will make noise and draw more zombies, so you don't want to use them if you don't have to.  Guns are when there isn't a swarm, but there are enough that you couldn't stab enough of them before they overwhelmed you.  You get in that situation, whip out the gun and blast an exit. Don't shoot all of them, just enough to get out of the bad situation.

I'd have two guns.  One would be a heavy revolver.  Those don't jam.  The problem is that they have six shots.  Reloading a revolver when zombies are coming at you is horrible.  That's why you use it as the trusty backup.  Always save the last bullet of the revolver for yourself.

You use the automatic primarily.  You can carry clips/magazines and kill way more and reload very quickly.  Don't be like Hollywood and just drop your empties on the ground.  An automatic without a magazine/clip is worse than a revolver.  Hell, it's probably worse than a sock with a sack of quarters in it.  Keep those empties for later.

Guns really aren't for zombies.  You need to make sure of your surroundings so that you don't have to get away from blades.  If there are, say, 10 zombies coming at you, see if you can get yourself to a position where they are coming at you from the same direction.  Get behind a door and stab them in the head one at a time as they try to come through or run down a hallway, turn around, and wait for them to come at you lined up and then stab, stab, stab.  Again, unless you have gotten yourself into a position where you absolutely have to use the gun, don't.  Guns are for the other human survivors roaming around competing with you for supplies and shelter.

FIRE- Unless your zombie apocalypse is one where God made zombies fireproof, fire will be your failsafe.  You have to think about zombies in numbers.  A few zombies, you can handle with a blade.  A few too many zombies and you need the gun.  A vast zombie horde of hundreds/thousands/millions?  You need fire.

Prep work is key to zombies.  You want to get somewhere that you can control/contain their numbers.  If you're going to have an above ground sanctuary (which I wouldn't but that's just me), then you need to funnel zombies towards you so you can manage them.   

The Walking Dead just had the survivors living on a farm.  A farm!  They know there's a zombie apocalypse and they just tra-la-la-la-la around like there's no issue.  You always have to think that the zombie horde is just over the horizon.  You have to work under the assumption that if one comes, you will not be able to escape and will have to fight it out to survive.  How the hell were they going to do that on that farm?

Fire.  Fire's how.  Well, fire and a shovel.  It would suck, but what you would do is dig a huge, huge ditch/moat around your sanctuary.  The dirt you took from the ground, you'd put on the sanctuary side so form a makeshift wall as well.  I'd reinforce that wall with logs so that if somehow the zombies crawled out of the ditch, they couldn't get up the logwall or tear through it.

Anyway, they shouldn't be able to crawl out because I would have set sticks and branches in that ditch.  I see the horde coming, I'm waiting as long as I can.  I'm waiting for them to come and fall in the ditch and get stuck in there in their thousands, then I'm spraying fuel on them and chucking a torch on them.  They're all packed in like sardines.  They'll go up nicely, and it should take long enough that more zombies will just keep packing into the inferno.

It'll smell like hell, but that's the best way to take care of a horde.

MOTHER EARTH
As I said, I sure wouldn't pick my sanctuary above ground if I didn't have to.  I'd find some bunker/cave system.  The key is that you want a defensible entrance where they can't overwhelm with numbers.  If you chose a castle, thinking you were safe, well, even if your walls are 40 feet high, if the zombie horde is big enough, they can just trample each other and slowly make a zombie ramp, at which point they pour over and you are screwed.  Yes, it would take a metric shit-ton of zombies for that, but, you know, you're supposed to think of these things.

I'd want a bunker with a door (steel) that was wide enough for a man.  I don't care if a million zombies are pushing the one at the door as much as they can, they're not pushing through that.  Sure, you're trapped, but you're safe.

That being said, while starving to death is not as sucky as being torn limb from limb and eaten alive, it still sucks.  That's why you must have a backup/escape tunnel.  That outdoor sanctuary surrounded by the fire ditch I told you about?  Yeah, you better be digging an escape tunnel there, for if the zombie horde is fireproof/attacks on a rainy week.  They manage to get over the walls, you don't want to be standing there holding your pecker and whistling dixie.  You want out.  Your shovel is going to be as important as your weapons.

PERFECT SANCTUARY
I know I said underground, but that's if I'm on connected land.  An island with a fresh water source would be great.  One with high cliffs would be best.  Bunkers/sanctuaries are great on mainland, but there's always a risk of running out of supplies.  On an island, you should be able to handle the smaller amount of zombies, if any.  Then you have the ocean to feed you.  Of course still dig your ditches and walls and whatnot, but food and water and wait for the zombie bodies to decompose to the point that they can't move.

Unless the angry God who made the zombies allows them to continue on as skeletons, or worse, zombie-ism transfers to sealife too.

In which place, you're probably in hell already and just don't know it. 

The Little Things in Life

So far, life has not turned out as I assumed.

I'm not sure why it would. I figured I'd be married (with children) and a professional success by now. But, what, exactly, have I done to further that end?  Yes, yes, I was an Army officer, and, yes, yes, I went to law school.  But I somehow thought competency and not butt-kissing was important in the one and that showing up as opposed to getting good grades was important in the other (to be fair, I did try for good grades, but As and I are like oil and water, so I quickly gave that up and rested on my race and gender and geographic good fortune).

Surely, loafing and being a southern white male would carry me through as it had for quite a many generations of my forebears (not true at all; they were quite impressive folks-ed).  As for marriage, all I've managed to do so far is occasionally date (usually) "unsettled" women.

So, here I am, a 32yo layabout, living in a ramshackle apartment with rats crawling in the walls . With two roommates, A and B.  No wife. No job.  Hell, my room isn't even my room; not really.  To get to it, I have to walk through B's room, which we partitioned off from the main part of his with a walkway girded by floor-to-ceiling curtains.

A warzone veteran and I live in another man's (basically) closet, a point that B never allows an opportunity pass to remind me.

That's my life right now.

So it was tonight that after a night of bar trivia (lost) and general malaise and the watching of unwatchable reality television ("Full Metal Jousting"!!!) that I trudged to my little fortress.

I was a trifle punchy though, indignant at the indecency of it all.

Standing in the pitch black of my walk-through, I paused, knowing my light-sleeping roommate was trying to ignore my clomp-clomp-clomping through a blocked-off sector of his room.  I waited just longer than should be acceptable.

And then I said in a breathy, sultry, seductive whisper,

"Tonight's the night, big fella!!!!"

And B, himself also in his thirties and unemployed and thoroughly disillusioned with the myths of success that we'd been brought up with, quietly and calmly responded in the silky pitch-black,

"I will $@#!in' kill you."

And good for him. Well done.  He hit the timing.  I set it up and he knocked it down.  The joke had been played and returned.  But, oh no, our banter had to continue.  We weren't done and it had to be followed through.

"Was that $@#! and kill me or $@#!ing kill me?  Because the difference is crucial," I asked, my lawyerly and classical training taking over and my need to know whether he meant a conjunction or a gerundive.

The beats were perfectly timed as I heard naught but the machete he keeps under his mattress ssshhhhhlllliiinnkkkkk!!!! as he pulled it out.

"Well, then. Good night," I said, gregariously and headed to my room.

"Good night," he muttered. And sssshhhhhhllllliiiinnnnkkk!!!! back it went.

It's shared misery that helps a man make it through troubling times; 'tis true.

Cormac McCarthy's "The Road": Disjointed Thoughts/Observations/Conundrums

Below are a list of my thoughts concerning the book.  They are not set in stone by any means.  I'm simply trying to process what I read and bounce around ideas so some of them are redundant/similar. If anyone has anything to contribute, please add a comment.

1.  The family at the end is a representation of what the father and son could have been?  Father says they're the good guys and they help, but he only helps others because of the son (how Christ redeems us in the face of the anger of the OT God/Father?).  As the kid says, "we talk a lot about helping and being the good guys but we never are." We never help. Man struck by lightning (ancient sign of God's displeasure).  The people in the basement.  The thief (Father' instinct is to punish/consign to death. The Son persuades forgiveness).  The old man with no name.

However, the family not only lets him come with them, they tracked him, sought him out.  Family is if they (Father and Son) chose goodness.  Thus, the other boy is his age, the woman exists because she didn't kill herself, the man is strong because he's not dying on the inside (coughing).  They also have a little girl.  The other little boy is the same age, so he was conceived prior to the disaster.  If the little girl is younger, than that means they conceived her after the catastrophe and she is therefore a very physical manifestation of hope.

2.  The fire is the pneuma, the breath, the holy ghost.  The living do carry it inside, particularly in a world that gets colder and colder.  The boy's breathing though it got shallow didn't fail.  The man's breath was failing him the entire time.  His fire was not pure.  That's why he recognized the goodness/godness of the boy.  The woman at the end confirms, "the breath of God was his breath yet though it pass from man to man through all of time." (Last spoken line of novel)

3.  The 2nd man made discussion about even helping the boy with his family.  So though he helped, he was reluctant, just like the father, though, like the father, he could be persuaded.  It took the woman for that though (because with no mother, the father could not be persuaded to help the other little boy though the son begged for it). For life to sustain, men's hardness must be softened by women's compassion? "They say women dream of danger to those in their care and men of danger to themselves." The 2nd man had no clue what the boy was talking about "the fire" but the woman knew.

4.  Hallucinating. Boy, I love me some hallucinating.  The dying father basically says, "Imagine me and I'll be there".  If the boy can imagine the father, then too can he imagine the family as they're his desires?  The kid's the only one who sees the other little boy earlier and the dog that he also sees may not be there (is a decoy to draw people in).  Before suicide, mother says "A person who had no one would be well advised to cobble together some passable ghost."

5.  Groups of four tend to be very dangerous.  The four walking ahead of the army.  The four (including a pregnant woman) following who eat the baby.  The four men they come across he must threaten with the pistol to get past. The family at the end though.

6.  Hope is not the point.  Love/Togetherness is the point. The beauty of the bond. The present. The moment.

7.  Was mother wrong (suicide)?  Was father wrong (survive)?

8.  The road is a symbolic path forward.  Like time.  No going back. Progress because there is no other option. It is only after they leave the ocean, head back inland that the father dies.  Regression is fatal. They must go to water. Water usually represents life, but it is devoid of life (ocean), all that really matters is the fire, the breath.  Rain and snow are deadly.  Significance of the fire/flare. See God.  Fire brought much death though.  Water used to bring life, then fire brought death, but water no longer brings life, while fire represents life now.  Purity of water important?  Water unspoiled, rain, the cistern found, the water from jugs in the bunker, all are healthy.  Bad water (affected by man) brings sickness.  In the unspoilt water lived the trout in all their mystery.

9.  Adam/Eve.  Fruit is important. Mentions eating fruit first beyond any other items routinely.  Makes mention when they're out of fruit. Apples.

10.  The Father. The Son. The fire (holy spirit) within.  The Son (NT) wants to save.  The father (OT) simply can't allow it.  The father dies and the son remains.  The father is replaced by a more nurturing, compassionate father figure. Repeatedly talks about God being dead or there being no God but the boy. First spoken line of the novel: "If he is not the word of God, God never spoke." "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."  There is no speech without breath/fire to fuel it.

11.  Three days with the dead father's body before the road forward again.  Three days of Christ's descent to hell? Or that after three days the redemption, the proof of the sacrifice is shown? Hallelujah! Christ is risen! Family finds him.


12.  Last thing the father says before he dies, "Goodness will find the little boy.  It always has.  It will again."

"This Means War" (Unfilmed Realistic Script)

INT. CIA HQ, Langley, Virginia

In a room full of agents at their desks, divided by a center aisle, JAMES KIRK and BRIT MCACCENT, best of friends and fellow spies, sit across from each other.  Each are smiling at their computer monitors.

JAMES KIRK

My new girlfriend is fantastic! She's a bit older than I am and has some kids

with a bit of a douchebag actor, but if you don't pay attention to her chin and 

she's in a pushup bra, man, she's pretty damn cute.

BRIT MCACCENT

That sounds great.  My new girlfriend is fantastic as well.  She sounds awfully similar 

to your girlfriend, but then we're in the DC dating pool and the insecure divorcees here

are damn near interchangeable.  Not that I have a problem with that. 

JAMES KIRK

Do you want to do something guys NEVER do?!!!!

BRIT MCACCENT

Of course! I'm British!

JAMES KIRK

Let's get really giddy and pull up the best photograph of our girlfriend we can find. 

Then, on the count of three, let's face our monitors to each other, like macho, deadly

men would never do, and beam over our cutiepies!

BRIT MCACCENT

This is a bit frenchish for my blood, but fine

JAMES KIRK and MCACCENT start clicking away to find the perfect photographs of their girlfriends.  They are getting bizarrely chipper.

JAMES KIRK

You ready?

BRIT MCACCENT

I can't wait!

JAMES KIRK

1, 2, 3!

The two master spies whip around their monitors, only to see that they have the same picture up.  Clearly, they've been led on by the woman.

JAMES KIRK

Huh?

BRIT MCACCENT

Whoa!

JAMES KIRK

What a fucking slut!

BRIT MCACCENT

Yeah, it's not like I had drinks with her once; we're in a relationship.

JAMES KIRK

No offense, but I have to go get myself tested.  Who knows where else this lying bitch has been?

BRIT MCACCENT

I am right behind you. Again. HEEEYYYOOOO!!!!

JAMES KIRK

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! That's awesome! But seriously, if she gave us something, I'm going to 

make her disappear.  You don't fuck over a spy.  

BRIT MCACCENT

I'll help

JAMES KIRK

Hey, since we work for the CIA, let's go ahead and put her on the no-fly list for shits

and giggles when we get back.

BRIT MCACCENT

Righty-O!

The State of the Union: An Objective Observation of American Politics

A Democrat President's State of the Union Address:

The official Republican response to that State of the Union Address:

A Republican President's State of the Union Address:

The official Democrat response to that State of the Union Address:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Other

"The idea of the Other

A person's definition of the 'Other' is part of what defines or even constitutes the self (in both a psychological and philosophical sense) and other phenomena and cultural units. It has been used in social science to understand the processes by which societies and groups exclude 'Others' whom they want to subordinate or who do not fit into their society. The concept of 'otherness' is also integral to the comprehending of a person, as people construct roles for themselves in relation to an 'other' as part of a process of reaction that is not necessarily related to stigmatization or condemnation. Othering is imperative to national identities, where practices of admittance and segregation can form and sustain boundaries and national character. Othering helps distinguish between home and away, the uncertain or certain. It often involves the demonization and dehumanization of groups, which further justifies attempts to civilize and exploit these 'inferior' others."

A Modern Romance

caliamara3's new status message - bored...   9:51 AM

 caliamara3:  hi!

 Sent at 9:51 AM on Sunday

 

me:  Who are you?

 

caliamara3:  I cant belive you dont remember me

 

 me:  I don't meet many people w threes in their names

 

 caliamara3:  hey whats up? 22/F here. you?

 

 me:  Same old. Same old

 

 caliamara3:  hmmmm. have we chatted before?

 

 me:  nope.

as I say, I don't know who you are

 

caliamara3:  oh ok. i wasn't sure. anyways.... what's up?

 

me:  all I see is caliamara3

and I don't know who that is

 

caliamara3:  im like so f'n boreddddd.... there's  nothinggggggg to do

ohhh wait! i have a GREAT idea. have you ever watched a sexy girl like me strip live on a webcam before?

 

me:  oh. now I get it.

no thank you. have a great day.

 

caliamara3:  welllllll.... you could watch me if you want to?

 

You have blocked caliamara3. You can no longer see each other online or chat together. Unblock caliamara3

 

caliamara3 is offline and can't receive messages right now.

I Now Have to Microwave My Head. Thanks.

My mom got remarried this past weekend.  Good for her.  Gets me off the hook for taking care of her.  The ceremony was held at her and the fella's house.  They read their own vows.  There was lots of talk of "sunset years" (she being 62 and he being 74).  I was fine with the whole thing.  I'm an adult.  Glad she's happy.  I will say I turned a bit green when she vowed, in front of the officiant, and both families, to be his "companion and lover."  Yes, I'm 32, but, still, kinda gross. 

Anyway, after the wedding and the dinner, as I was preparing to leave someone asked mom where they were honeymooning.  Knowing her sense of humor, I immediately shouted, "Don't say...!" as she thumbed in the direction of the bedroom and said "in there!"  I'm trying to dry out after a particularly boozy holiday season.  I held to it, but damn if that didn't make me want to drown my brain in the sauce in hopes of destroying the brain cells that would remember that.  Mom saw the look on my face and laughed.  I got the hell out of there and did my best not to give it a second thought.

Mom has a first cousin she's close with, Bobbi.  Even though she's supposedly in her "sunset years", mom's not remotely dignified, as I always assumed happened when people hit some indeterminate age threshold (around 45?).  Neither is cousin Bobbi.  Those two seem more like wacky preteens when they're together, gossiping and teasing and generally jib-jabbering non-sensically and being awkwardly crude.

This morning, I awoke to the following facebook message from Cousin Bobbi.  Alcoholic brain damage will not get rid of this one.

"Your mother is grossing me out with 'honeymoon' talk. All I can hear and visualize is the sound of loose skin slapping...kind of like the sails on a boat before they catch wind! I must have a talk with her to keep this old fart honeymoon stuff to herself!"