By Meg Curtis
First, let us admit one sad fact about the recent “zombie apocalypse.” It has torn the hearts out of parents and kids looking forward to Halloween. This costume always promised a big effect for a small investment. Just add a bloody mask to dirty clothes, and revelers were good to go. No more! It’s back to expensive get-ups for the American family!
Second, the repulsive episodes in Miami and Baltimore have also ruined middle schoolers’ hilarity over the behavior of classmates who never “get it.” To their number perhaps we might add politicians who never “get it,” either. What do we call the unconscious among us now? The term “zombie” may be permanently lost from American slang.
Third, why did cuisine have to enter into these miscreants’ activities? It’s bad enough that we have celebrity campaigns to eat no meat from our four-footed relatives. Now, should we expect constant reminders that consuming only greenery is patriotic? Vegans now have a new arrow in their attack quiver—and eggs can get mighty tiresome, too.
The nation’s repository of comic material suffered a crippling blow during the month of May in 2012. So did the photographic supply industry. Just how many pictures of faces without flesh can the American public stand—without running off like screaming zombies? Of what use are these photos to anybody—except zombies and mummies?
Speaking of mummies, has anyone considered this fix for these photos from a vomitorium? Just wrap that torn flesh in rolls of tissue before subjecting viewers to reality. Apply it like any other therapy via PhotoShop. Voila! A new cheap costume emerges. Mummies are identical—except they’re all dried up and locked into stone condominiums.