Pays to be prepared
The zombie apocalypse IS coming. Soon there will be nothing but blood and zeroes, as shuffling, rotting herds of the undead do their death thing and eat your brains (or what used to be called brains until television turned them into mulch). Be advised that 'Resident Evil' and 'The Walking Dead' were not simple pieces of entertainment but clever survivalist programmes created by our governments to prepare the masses for the coming apocalypse. We are all in terrible DANGER and the slow drip drip revelations of people tearing strips of flesh from sleeping tramps are an attempt to desensitise us, less we go insane when the full story is revealed.
Have you not noticed the more edgy the world has become recently? The stories about global economic crisis, Obamacare, Italy kicking Germany out of Euro 2012 and legal highs turning men into ravenous vagrant/dog munching monsters are just the beginning. In the near future, the gates of hell will be opened and football and money will be the last things on peoples minds, and when the zombies, vampires and werewolves stalk the land we shall find no salvation in soap operas or reality television.
As the Immortal Bard, Shakepeare wrote:
"This is abhominable,--which he
would call abbominable: it insinuateth me of
insanie: anne intelligis, domine?"
Bark from trees will weep blood, the seas will boil from the septic waste and be filled with razor eyed eels and armoured sharks, lands will be infested with nothing but the relics of the dead. We are doomed to live out the final years of earth as desperate savages, devoid of love and compassion. All hope will be gone, as dead as the miserable scourge upon us and victory over the fanged creatures feasting on our scabbed frames will not be coming, as far away like a lullaby on the planet Mars. Only the mechanics of Death will remain, forcing humankind to try and survive a relentless enemy while hunting each other for a scrap of comfort.
Our minds will warp beyond recognition takig with it the pockets of treasured memories, turning us into little more than murderous sacks of meat, zombies without actual brain death.
No Superman or Batman, or priest or even God will save us. I can almost hear the wild groans and serpent hissing of monsters as I type. Can almost feel the mildew teeth of the undead sink into my tattooed shoulder, ripping me away from the screen and I will admit, a curious chill rings down my spine. The end of everything: fish & chips, books, tea, videogames, music, holidays, trips to the seaside, lazy sundays. All as we know it will be crushed in the clenched talon of the evil dead. Humanity will be ripped from life's water like fish on titanium hooks, to die gasping for breath beside the heel of mutant, beautiful savages.
A zombie squirrel yesterday
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