In J. L. Bourne's Day by Day Armageddon, the protagonist employed various boats and ships to avoid the undead. Bourne's zombie hated the water and would often maintain their distance on peers and docks. One could find solace in his novel simply by taking shelter on any sea-worthy vessel. Prior to this novel, I hadn't thought of how useful it would be to have ship handling experience.
Today, while at the VA Beach Aquarium, I was reminded as to how beneficial it would be to have access to one of those flotation devices should the zombie apocalypse decide to impress itself upon humanity. My friend and I took the creek tour around a small inlet/bay near the ocean and as we mentally shopped for one of the swank shore front homes, we also picked out the boats we would most like to "take advantage of" when the zombies arrive. I personally liked the yacht named "No Worries." Quite fortuitous.
Considering my husband works on a boat, I may be in luck regardless. Still, I couldn't help but think I should get over my vague notions of sea-sickness (I felt great on this trip) and consider donning a captain's hat. I will set for the high seas and mock those grubbing zombies at the shore--as long as no one on my vessel is already infected....
Friday, July 29, 2011
Biking Against the Undead (or from them?)
It is time to reintroduce myself in the art of exercise. Those undead won't be stopping any time soon (well, once they get started). I'll be using the powers of HIIT training to run fast from my opponent in a most dignified manner.
Be weary, Zombie!
Be weary, Zombie!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
What the heck do zombies worry about?
All this preparation, the time spent reading guides to zombie survival, the websites dedicated to defense, and really, I am starting to wonder about the rewards.
Should I survive the zombie apocalypse, I am the (un)fortunate one to inherit numerous concerns and worries while the zombie, that little booger gets to just moan and groan and scavenge for food. I mean, really?
You do all of this hard work, SURVIVING? And this creepy, crawly creature gets to feast on your hard work (i.e. civilization/people). I could see why some would just want to succumb quickly to zombiehood--the job perks are not to be scoffed at. When you get over the pride of surviving (imagines a gleeful person dancing on top of a mountain of expired zombies crying, "I'm king/queen of the zombie mountain!"), you are left with what? A few scrawny potatoes from your makeshift garden or one more can of baked beans from the storage shed?
Cripes! Zombies get to travel without paying (lest with rotting flesh), they can gorge themselves on various appetizing (for an undead) delicacies, and they are tireless. No need for red bull or downing Starbucks for them just to function.
Thinking about it, this almost makes me want to beat up the zombie more. To zombie or not to zombie? I guess it depends on the size of the 401K.
Should I survive the zombie apocalypse, I am the (un)fortunate one to inherit numerous concerns and worries while the zombie, that little booger gets to just moan and groan and scavenge for food. I mean, really?
You do all of this hard work, SURVIVING? And this creepy, crawly creature gets to feast on your hard work (i.e. civilization/people). I could see why some would just want to succumb quickly to zombiehood--the job perks are not to be scoffed at. When you get over the pride of surviving (imagines a gleeful person dancing on top of a mountain of expired zombies crying, "I'm king/queen of the zombie mountain!"), you are left with what? A few scrawny potatoes from your makeshift garden or one more can of baked beans from the storage shed?
Cripes! Zombies get to travel without paying (lest with rotting flesh), they can gorge themselves on various appetizing (for an undead) delicacies, and they are tireless. No need for red bull or downing Starbucks for them just to function.
Thinking about it, this almost makes me want to beat up the zombie more. To zombie or not to zombie? I guess it depends on the size of the 401K.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Re-animated Corpse or Corpslike?
Once I began branching out and actually reading a variety of zombie books, I found myself drawn into the debate regarding what exactly is the zombie and how the monster is generated. Some speculate (at length), that there is no way a person could die and then be reactivated. The fantastical/unscientificness of the entire scenario is so implausible to them, they cannot help but first laugh, and then weep in frustration at any who consider it a viable means of zombie generation.
I mean, it does make sense to give a little giggle at the idea. Unless the zombie were supernaturally empowered, a corpse cannot physically resume walking (let alone groaning i.e. no air moving through vocal cords) even if a virus (a particular strong nasty) infected the body. Can a virus be active with a dead host? No synapses could fire through the nervous system and thus invigorate those grimy, grasping limbs, no teeth could chomp, no hunger could drive the unholy being to such desperate and terrible acts of cannibalism. I ask unambiguously if someone were to know of any science/theory that would allow this.
Other authors like Brian Keene and David Wellington have envisioned the zombie as a supernatural being--literally they are creature reanimated by demons or other spiritual means. They are not, in essence, really inflicted by a virus even if the spirit/devil enters them through bite. It is a hypothesis or rather a fantastical idea, but I am more drawn to the third scenario stated below.
Finally, (and this seems to me a newer or newer to mainstream idea) that a virus can make one corpse-like that is a person lives while infected but becomes immune to pain and virtually immortal unless major organs are shredded (the most effective being the brain). We even have known flesh-eating diseases which make one's skin so the concept of a person walking around with skin rotting and peeling off their bodies is not an unknown occurrence. With known hallucinogenic drugs, leprecy, and all the other ugly bacteria and viruses lurking in our world, I would well imagine a catastrophic outbreak of zombie.
This is why the third zombie origin story appeals so much to me. It's plausibility. The other stories are certainly entertaining and thought-provoking. However, it is the idea of the corpse-like zombie that gives me the chills because it so the most likely to occur. The idea of zombie becomes more real, the threat turned up a notch. I remember how vulnerable we are to disease and contagion (especially as I type this with a sinus infection).
Some might argue if the people are alive, then we have a chance to save them, heal them. Salvation from the zombie is not just a bullet to the brain. Perhaps we could save them with a miracle cure. Perhaps all we need is an anti-virus. Yet, we know many viruses are immune themselves to cure. They wouldn't be viruses otherwise.
And, if we know these zombies are still human, still able to have a life if we could just find the right inoculation, would that make it harder to put them down when necessary? When time and the masses are at stake, can you take out the individual knowing mom, your neighbor, or loved one resides behind the mask of zombie infection? This adds a whole new dimension to the gruesomeness of zombie. The zombie is no longer simply a metaphor or a mindless enemy to dispense. The zombie evolves into another, deeper reflection of your own humanity. It had before, but in this new vein, it becomes increasingly important for the human to weigh the consequences of how they dispose of the walking dead.
What about you, phantom readers, what type of zombie seems most realistic or appeals most to you?
And how, if you were faced with a living undead, would you contend with the creature?
I mean, it does make sense to give a little giggle at the idea. Unless the zombie were supernaturally empowered, a corpse cannot physically resume walking (let alone groaning i.e. no air moving through vocal cords) even if a virus (a particular strong nasty) infected the body. Can a virus be active with a dead host? No synapses could fire through the nervous system and thus invigorate those grimy, grasping limbs, no teeth could chomp, no hunger could drive the unholy being to such desperate and terrible acts of cannibalism. I ask unambiguously if someone were to know of any science/theory that would allow this.
Other authors like Brian Keene and David Wellington have envisioned the zombie as a supernatural being--literally they are creature reanimated by demons or other spiritual means. They are not, in essence, really inflicted by a virus even if the spirit/devil enters them through bite. It is a hypothesis or rather a fantastical idea, but I am more drawn to the third scenario stated below.
Finally, (and this seems to me a newer or newer to mainstream idea) that a virus can make one corpse-like that is a person lives while infected but becomes immune to pain and virtually immortal unless major organs are shredded (the most effective being the brain). We even have known flesh-eating diseases which make one's skin so the concept of a person walking around with skin rotting and peeling off their bodies is not an unknown occurrence. With known hallucinogenic drugs, leprecy, and all the other ugly bacteria and viruses lurking in our world, I would well imagine a catastrophic outbreak of zombie.
This is why the third zombie origin story appeals so much to me. It's plausibility. The other stories are certainly entertaining and thought-provoking. However, it is the idea of the corpse-like zombie that gives me the chills because it so the most likely to occur. The idea of zombie becomes more real, the threat turned up a notch. I remember how vulnerable we are to disease and contagion (especially as I type this with a sinus infection).
Some might argue if the people are alive, then we have a chance to save them, heal them. Salvation from the zombie is not just a bullet to the brain. Perhaps we could save them with a miracle cure. Perhaps all we need is an anti-virus. Yet, we know many viruses are immune themselves to cure. They wouldn't be viruses otherwise.
And, if we know these zombies are still human, still able to have a life if we could just find the right inoculation, would that make it harder to put them down when necessary? When time and the masses are at stake, can you take out the individual knowing mom, your neighbor, or loved one resides behind the mask of zombie infection? This adds a whole new dimension to the gruesomeness of zombie. The zombie is no longer simply a metaphor or a mindless enemy to dispense. The zombie evolves into another, deeper reflection of your own humanity. It had before, but in this new vein, it becomes increasingly important for the human to weigh the consequences of how they dispose of the walking dead.
What about you, phantom readers, what type of zombie seems most realistic or appeals most to you?
And how, if you were faced with a living undead, would you contend with the creature?
Motivation?
I want to travel to that magical land where my motivation goes to hide. Often, I find myself forgetting about my blog, about my BIG plans to produce zombie fiction, and my good intentions to paint/draw. I have a hard time getting out of bed (especially once the cats have sandwiched me in) and doing more than channel surfing.
I have a job--it is just contract in orientation. I.e. I work when needed.
For zombie training, I think this lack of movement/motivation is a dangerous malady. I mean, if I were a flesh-hungry zombie, I would consider this a perfect time to strike. Zombie Alicia would think, "My opponent has gotten slovenly and doesn't even own a machete." Human Alicia might as well just lay in bed and await the inevitable gnawing on her bones.
How do you maintain your vigilance? What keeps you pounding the pavement with those cross trainers, chucking knife after knife in target practice, and oiling your glock blind-folded while hanging upside down?
Hopefully, I will awake soon and try just a little bit harder to be the best zombie fighter/survivalist I can be.
I have a job--it is just contract in orientation. I.e. I work when needed.
For zombie training, I think this lack of movement/motivation is a dangerous malady. I mean, if I were a flesh-hungry zombie, I would consider this a perfect time to strike. Zombie Alicia would think, "My opponent has gotten slovenly and doesn't even own a machete." Human Alicia might as well just lay in bed and await the inevitable gnawing on her bones.
How do you maintain your vigilance? What keeps you pounding the pavement with those cross trainers, chucking knife after knife in target practice, and oiling your glock blind-folded while hanging upside down?
Hopefully, I will awake soon and try just a little bit harder to be the best zombie fighter/survivalist I can be.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
How long would you have to run?
I've been running a lot more lately. I've even worked myself up to at least 2.5 to 2.75 miles at a decent clip. I feel like I am getting into a good shape.
But, is 2.5 miles really far enough to run from zombies?
I was reading an interesting book a few months back called "Aftertime." In the novel, the author pointed out that people were often overtaken by the undead not because the zombies run/walk fast but because humans eventually wear out and zombies, well, don't. I hadn't really thought about this before. Sure, I can put on my best kicks and dash around a park for half an hour, but there would come a time when I would just need to sit down and stretch out those aching calves. Therein lies the beauty or strength of the zombie--it doesn't need that break. While I pant and fan my sweaty head, it will just keep slogging along until it finally reaches and bites my tired butt.
Even though "Zombieland" stressed the importance of cardio, even the best of runners require time off from physical activity. The zombie, that little rotting automaton, never has an off button save for the trusty bullet in the brain. We (lover enthusiasts) read book after book denoting the wonderful strength and tenacity of survivors as they TRIUMPH over the blundering undead. Yet, I wonder now how much that would really happen. Where are the movies and novels depicting drained, flailing protagonists who almost perish because they desperately NEED a sip of Gatoraide and a nap?
I don't intend to stop running because it simply serves as a temporary reprieve from being chomped to death or undeath by a zombie; however, this new idea encourages my reassessment of the necessary zombie apocalypse skills. Perhaps, drive first, ride second, walk if you have no wheels, run only if undead eaters are snapping at your heels (literally and figuratively).
This sudden (and silly not thought of sooner) realization unnerves me more than the actual bite. I can see it all play out in my head:
Me: Oh, hey, look it's a zombie. No worries, I got my Brooks running socks (wool, not cotton), my sweet cross trainers, and a sweat band for endurance. Oh, slumbering zombie, I'm so going to out distance you. Silly undead.
Zombie: Groan
Me: Look zombie, I just ran 2 miles and you are so behind. Man, I'm beat, but gotta keep up the pace.
Zombie: Groan (but from farther away)
Me: Gosh, 4 miles, I'm beat. Just need a little breather.
Zombie: (Almost inaudible groan) Groan
Me: Oh, side stitch. Curses. Need a longer break.
Zombie: Groan (Oh, is he getting a little closer?)
Me: Run, run, run, jog, jog, jog, walk, walk, walk, stumble, pant, face plant.
Zombie: Groan (So much CLOSER).
Me: Gasp, crawl, collapse.
Zombie: Chomp, chomp, chomp (accompanied by "Groan" of satisfaction)
Hilarity aside, this is rather disquieting. It's a discourse of futility but not on the part of the zombie. It is the inevitable failing of the human body. You will be worn down. Your legs will fail you. Your lungs will gasp not always steadily in and outtake air. You will stumble and slow. You will likely be caught. I suppose it's another conversation as to what should you do when fate deals this blow. Don't let this panic you--use the information to know your enemy and yourself. Perhaps then, you'll have or know when to have that Jetta or Vespa handy for when your body betrays you.
At least my running will give me a burst when needed--that bit of kick to win the immediate battle. But, I warn you, fellow zombie preparers, to train the most important muscle, the brain, as diligently as your body. I hope I am not being pretentious in asking you remember your limitations and do not let them become your demise.
But, is 2.5 miles really far enough to run from zombies?
I was reading an interesting book a few months back called "Aftertime." In the novel, the author pointed out that people were often overtaken by the undead not because the zombies run/walk fast but because humans eventually wear out and zombies, well, don't. I hadn't really thought about this before. Sure, I can put on my best kicks and dash around a park for half an hour, but there would come a time when I would just need to sit down and stretch out those aching calves. Therein lies the beauty or strength of the zombie--it doesn't need that break. While I pant and fan my sweaty head, it will just keep slogging along until it finally reaches and bites my tired butt.
Even though "Zombieland" stressed the importance of cardio, even the best of runners require time off from physical activity. The zombie, that little rotting automaton, never has an off button save for the trusty bullet in the brain. We (lover enthusiasts) read book after book denoting the wonderful strength and tenacity of survivors as they TRIUMPH over the blundering undead. Yet, I wonder now how much that would really happen. Where are the movies and novels depicting drained, flailing protagonists who almost perish because they desperately NEED a sip of Gatoraide and a nap?
I don't intend to stop running because it simply serves as a temporary reprieve from being chomped to death or undeath by a zombie; however, this new idea encourages my reassessment of the necessary zombie apocalypse skills. Perhaps, drive first, ride second, walk if you have no wheels, run only if undead eaters are snapping at your heels (literally and figuratively).
This sudden (and silly not thought of sooner) realization unnerves me more than the actual bite. I can see it all play out in my head:
Me: Oh, hey, look it's a zombie. No worries, I got my Brooks running socks (wool, not cotton), my sweet cross trainers, and a sweat band for endurance. Oh, slumbering zombie, I'm so going to out distance you. Silly undead.
Zombie: Groan
Me: Look zombie, I just ran 2 miles and you are so behind. Man, I'm beat, but gotta keep up the pace.
Zombie: Groan (but from farther away)
Me: Gosh, 4 miles, I'm beat. Just need a little breather.
Zombie: (Almost inaudible groan) Groan
Me: Oh, side stitch. Curses. Need a longer break.
Zombie: Groan (Oh, is he getting a little closer?)
Me: Run, run, run, jog, jog, jog, walk, walk, walk, stumble, pant, face plant.
Zombie: Groan (So much CLOSER).
Me: Gasp, crawl, collapse.
Zombie: Chomp, chomp, chomp (accompanied by "Groan" of satisfaction)
Hilarity aside, this is rather disquieting. It's a discourse of futility but not on the part of the zombie. It is the inevitable failing of the human body. You will be worn down. Your legs will fail you. Your lungs will gasp not always steadily in and outtake air. You will stumble and slow. You will likely be caught. I suppose it's another conversation as to what should you do when fate deals this blow. Don't let this panic you--use the information to know your enemy and yourself. Perhaps then, you'll have or know when to have that Jetta or Vespa handy for when your body betrays you.
At least my running will give me a burst when needed--that bit of kick to win the immediate battle. But, I warn you, fellow zombie preparers, to train the most important muscle, the brain, as diligently as your body. I hope I am not being pretentious in asking you remember your limitations and do not let them become your demise.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Hello, Again
Been a while. Recently, I've been quite consumed with visitations though not of the undead kind. Family in and out, travel up and down and seemingly through the mountains--my brakes can attest to the accuracy of these statements. Thank you GPS for "losing" us in somewhat steep hills of PA. I suppose I should update those maps or maybe pray for a better sense of direction. Truth be told, I knew how I could get out those windy, 9.5 % grade mountains--I just didn't listen to my gut.
Of course, you may now be asking yourself after having read several of my fragments and run-on's what does this demented and delusional blogger's discourse have to do with zombie. Well, as I'm just free-thinking, not really much at this second. But, at a deeper look, perhaps my quite fully meandering mind has more to do with creepy, crawling corpses than originally thought. I feel like the song, "Wish You Were Here." If you don't know who wrote this one, shame on you though I could have typed it way faster than the time it took to admonish you. My head feels lost, foggy as it has since my job let out about 6 weeks ago. I feel like I am flitting from one day dream to the next and wondering what will actually shake me from this malaise. I would assume the piercing, ironic shredding of my flesh by a zombie would help stir my sense of reality a bit.
Really? Did she say a zombie biting her would make her feel more real? Perhaps, perhaps it would at least make me feel more physical. I've been swimming in Gaskell and B-rated Romantic comedies for days and need to wake the flip up. Still, have you ever had that feeling--the hypnotic notion that the only way to feel normal is to get bitten on the a$% by something paranormal? Sometimes when I read those gory books of the undead, I get lost there, as well. Adrift in a sea of severed limbs, rivers of blood, and the shriveling lumps of humanity wasting away on the side of some long forgotten back road, I feel myself becoming as fictional as the characters I read about. Other times, it is the interaction between my dazed life and something not so mundane that shakes my roots and shivers my leaves (yes, I made an awkward metaphor out of a tree). I stand taller, take longer gulps of vision at the world me, and actually feel alive.
Zombies give us a moment to fight against the real disease/infection/avoidance in our lives. Their sharp claws tear not necessarily at our soft bellies but at our gauze-mar veils of existentialism--the sense that all is subjective and never REAL. Zombies are really good at dismantling our defenses and making us run screaming for our lives (yes, I'm being densely figurative--please bare with me :) ).
I like that and more importantly, I need that.
Of course, you may now be asking yourself after having read several of my fragments and run-on's what does this demented and delusional blogger's discourse have to do with zombie. Well, as I'm just free-thinking, not really much at this second. But, at a deeper look, perhaps my quite fully meandering mind has more to do with creepy, crawling corpses than originally thought. I feel like the song, "Wish You Were Here." If you don't know who wrote this one, shame on you though I could have typed it way faster than the time it took to admonish you. My head feels lost, foggy as it has since my job let out about 6 weeks ago. I feel like I am flitting from one day dream to the next and wondering what will actually shake me from this malaise. I would assume the piercing, ironic shredding of my flesh by a zombie would help stir my sense of reality a bit.
Really? Did she say a zombie biting her would make her feel more real? Perhaps, perhaps it would at least make me feel more physical. I've been swimming in Gaskell and B-rated Romantic comedies for days and need to wake the flip up. Still, have you ever had that feeling--the hypnotic notion that the only way to feel normal is to get bitten on the a$% by something paranormal? Sometimes when I read those gory books of the undead, I get lost there, as well. Adrift in a sea of severed limbs, rivers of blood, and the shriveling lumps of humanity wasting away on the side of some long forgotten back road, I feel myself becoming as fictional as the characters I read about. Other times, it is the interaction between my dazed life and something not so mundane that shakes my roots and shivers my leaves (yes, I made an awkward metaphor out of a tree). I stand taller, take longer gulps of vision at the world me, and actually feel alive.
Zombies give us a moment to fight against the real disease/infection/avoidance in our lives. Their sharp claws tear not necessarily at our soft bellies but at our gauze-mar veils of existentialism--the sense that all is subjective and never REAL. Zombies are really good at dismantling our defenses and making us run screaming for our lives (yes, I'm being densely figurative--please bare with me :) ).
I like that and more importantly, I need that.
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