To ask an important question: What in the hibbity dibbity is wrong with people? Why is the world in love with- of all things- zombies? I understand – zombies are staple fare of apocalypse/horror games, movies, books, etc- but when did we fall in love with zombies to the extent that we have zombie weddings, zombie walks, zombie games, zombie sitcoms, zombie doorstops, USB’s, and plush cuddly zombies to sleep with at night?
At what point did we, as human beans, become so desensitized to the idea of what is, to be blunt- an indescribable horror that Allah, in His Mercy, has not allowed to exist in real life? Imagine a mother devouring her screaming baby. Really. Let your stomach twist itself into a revolted little knot over that one. Compare that to the plush and cuddly om-nom of one human being munching another and think about it- it’s not funny. It’s not entertaining. It’s a further desensitization of people to violence which, in turn, spurns further violence.
Human life loses its value because zombification gives us carte blanche to kill, main, decapitate, run over, and maul men women children old people and pets in a variety of exciting and entertaining venues. And our kids play games to pass the time using other humans for target practice while we head off to zombie camp for the weekend so we can get our jollies from massacring actors with grape-jelly in their mouths.
I wonder what it is that people find attractive about the whole ‘end of the world and everyone’s dead but us’ scenario- is it the fantasy that you’re only alive because you’re such a badass? Or the human craving to find a)belonging and b) purpose that is forced into realization that you’re the only five single attractive grownups with unlimited ammo left in the city, and you and your adorable clever dog need to band together to ride into the sunset over a mountain of zombie corpses?
I have wasted hundred of hours– I’m not joking, hundreds- battling zombies in one form or the other courtesy of the Resident Evil series way back in the highschool day, but even then I saw no allure in immersing myself in any more zombitude than I had to. Zombies were something you ran away from and avoided on pain of death (or worse-waste of ammo!) I know I’ve blogged about zombies before- sometimes I wonder whether too many hours of zombie gaming in the dark basement of my parents’ house did not give me a touch of PSTD- certain sounds, specific creaks, the caw of a raven or the click of an ominous-sounding doorknob used to give me flashbacks to the dark, close quarters of the Raccoon City police station where I was alone, out of ammo, and standing in front of that horrible hallway where the zombies would reach in from the windows and claw at you.
The self-inflicted brain damage persists even to this day, to the extent that I wasn’t able to watch King of Thorns- ye typical ‘confused survivors trappy in gory research facility’ anime- without having nightmares and developing honest to goodness fear of the dark for a good week afterwards. I wasn’t scared of the dark the same way that four year olds are- it was worse, because a four year old can’t (or shouldn’t be able to) imagine what I can in the shadows of my house. Not even I would be able to imagine in the shadows what I find myself imagining- and I am not imagining as much as I am remembering the time that the skeleton-faced dog thing stepped out from behind that angry but helpful police officer and picked him up by the head and squeezed it until his skull popped.
Stop me if you’re feeling sick. I am already.
I don’t think zombies are cute or funny or entertaining any more than cannibalism. God forbid someone come out with a plush toy for that next… Auzubillah.
-End of Rant Here-
