Fuck. Zombies.

I know it’s been a while since I wrote anything here, and I really do intend to continue to do so, it’s just been a busy couple of months between going off the third shift schedule to days for a couple agonizingly low-hour weeks and back to nights again for a full 40 hour week.

I haven’t really had much to write about, and have probably done even less writing, but I’m always plotting and have spent a bit of time coalescing my thoughts into notes on just what I want to do with novel revisions. Hoping to get that rolling again, because the things I managed to come up with all sound like solid fucking gold in my head!

At any rate, I’d been considering what to write about for this first post of the new year for a while, and a couple nights ago while wandering aimlessly around the store in search of something to do, I thought I’d hit on a nice rant.


I’m so fucking sick of zombies. Everything is zombies these days, and everyone thinks zombies are so fucking cool, but really? Everything that ever needed to be said or done with zombies happened between forty-eight (Night of the Living Dead) and thirty-one (Day of the Dead) years ago.

Little fat man named George Romero. Ever heard of him? If you’re under twenty-five, probably not. Fucking millennials.

Romero was the first. Other films had come before him to depict zoned-out zombie-like people (see: 1932’s White Zombie), but Romero started the flesh-eating-cadaver-monster craze; and let’s be honest, even he ran it to the ground by the time Land of the Dead rolled around.

Sure, there’ve been some enjoyable bits of zombie fiction since the Lord and Master of All Things Undead really hit his stride, but they’ve all just been aping cues he set down before I was born.

Think The Walking Dead TV show is “groundbreaking”? The comic was better, but even it essentially rips the plot of Dawn of the Dead into little pieces and scatters the survivors all over Georgia instead of focusing on a single shopping mall. It’s all there. The cop hero, the pregnant woman who gives birth during the infestation, the finding-our-new-life scenes as the survivors establish a new home in an unfamiliar place (see: Walking Dead’s prison), even down to the less-savory elements of society forming their own bands to rape and pillage.

But that’s all just foreplay compared to the tremendous amounts of bullshit out there starring zombies.

One of my duties at work is to occasionally, when I have nothing else to do and no customers trolling around Electronics at ungodly hours (thankfully the cold is keeping most of them away) is to go straighten up the books section. During one of these runs the other night, I came up with the idea for this post.

Now, I don’t usually keep up with what’s new in literature these days – especially where Young Adult nonsense is concerned – but I couldn’t help but notice something truly insipid lurking on the New Release endcap: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

That’s right, Jane Austen. You’ve been trolled.

See, this utterly useless dickhead named Seth Grahame-Smith (also responsible for Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter) decided to rewrite Pride and Prejudice in an alternate universe where zombies roam the countryside. Then he had the audacity to credit Austen as co-author.

What a piece of shit.

Beside that idiocy, we also find titles like Alice in Zombieland (two guesses what that’s about, and neither one counts) and some others I don’t even remember at this hour now two nights removed from my hideous sojourn into the wasteland. I know there were a few more zombie-centric YA titles huddled together for warmth under the cold fluorescent lighting, but I was still pretty much in a rage about the Pride and Prejudice thing.

That’s just recently-published zombie trash, though. It’s a whole other fucking level when we get into the talk about why the Call of Duty games remain such a big seller.

Hint: they groan, and you shoot them.

I’ve seen couples buy the new Black Ops 3 for their seven-to-ten year old children because the kids wanted to shoot zombies. Seriously. This is a thing.

In fact, it’s such a thing, that to my great dismay that just one day after I had the idea for this post I read… well, THIS.


So, I missed the story when the kid first shot his dad and brother to death, but the mother testified in court that her husband had trained their son to kill zombies and both spent untold amounts of time obsessing over real-life zombie outbreaks and that they regularly played zombie-centric games together; including Call of Duty. While Call of Duty itself is a war game, the zombie-centric multiplayer levels are immensely popular, particularly among kids.

So, at 14 in March of 2014, Eldon Samuel III admitted he killed his father and his autistic brother. Brutally.

Eldon Samuel Jr., the father, died of a gunshot wound to the abdomen and was then shot three more times in the head after he died. ‘Cause, ya know, zombies.

The brother, 11 months younger than Eldon III, was shot TEN FUCKING TIMES by a shotgun and a semi-auto .45, then stabbed with a knife and hacked with a machete over a dozen times.

Sure, there are always crazy fucking people out there who’ll believe anything (witness the fact Ancient Aliens is still on), but come the fuck on. Enough with the goddamn zombies, already.

I say this as an old-school horror fan, too. I’m all for a good monster flick, or a bit of weird fiction about extradimensional entities ruining human life for no good reason, but zombies are just lazy business. Gore for the sake of gore. Laziness for the sake of makings buck off a popular theme.

If I ever stoop to zombies: please have me committed.


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