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.
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