The Zombie Apocalypse will be televised, and it will look damn good.
It’s no secret that Zombie entertainment is big these days. Be it Zombie love or Zombie death, people are flocking to any diversion that features ambling, mindless consumers (of human flesh, that is). What has caused this fascination with the living dead? Could it be our soulless, materialistic existence? Do we identify with the all-consuming need to gorge ourselves on the life force of others? Perhaps it’s our sedentary way of life. Most of our days are spent sitting on our asses, plugged into some kind of glowing electronic device, bowing to the whims of our Corporate Masters. Or maybe the never-ending plagues and wars are igniting long-dormant fears of pandemics and nuclear devastation. Sure, I suppose one of the aforementioned theories could provide a convincing explanation for pop-culture’s Zombie fetish. But I think it’s a lot simpler than that. Why has Hollywood morphed into Zombieland? One word: Botox.
Why didn’t we recognize it before? It’s as obvious as the baby-smooth skin on a starlet’s face. Think about it – millions of people are voluntarily injecting their faces with the most acutely toxic substance known to mankind, and have been doing so for years now. While a little dip into the botulinum-laced fountain of youth may leave you with a strangely smooth, impassive visage, it can also (depending on where you inject it) cause a kind of cognitive blindness; in other words, the victim loses the ability to understand language and emotional interactions.
So, let’s see: we’ve got a potentially lethal toxin that can cause its victim’s face to melt into a drooling, slack-jawed mask (albeit a wrinkle-free one). This same substance can render a person insensitive to emotional information, and perhaps make conversation a bit tough. Oh, and all of this is in the pursuit of never-ending youth. And dammit, what about the Atkins/South Beach/Paleo/Low-Carb diet trends? All protein, all the time! Could the all-brain diet be far behind?
It’s so frightfully clear now. What started as an innocently narcissistic beauty trend has no doubt already turned into a widespread infection. Roving gangs of relentless cadavers will soon be seen on the streets of Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, hell even Lincoln, Nebraska thanks to the diabolical mind of Alexander Payne. And where Hollywood goes, the world is sure to follow.
Of course, now that we know where the real threat is coming from, the question becomes what to do about it. How do we stop a vast, suspiciously well-groomed, flesh-eating conspiracy? Let’s face it, we probably can’t. I mean, who knew Zombies could be so well-connected, and so damn hot? (Okay, they tipped their hand a bit with Warm Bodies, but we were too busy sitting on our respective asses reading facebook and twitter to notice the bloody writing on the wall. Fear the beautiful people! Fear them!) We’re powerless to stop the Hollywood Zombie uprising. We will become mere cattle, herded and slaughtered to satiate their terrifying hunger. Picture it: a dark theatre full of people watching the latest inane Michael Bay Explosion Movie. Prime hunting ground for the undead hordes. They shall descend upon us without warning, when we have been numbed into a SFX-induced coma. And they will be led by Tom Cruise.
We cannot resist, we cannot retaliate, we can only hide. I envision an underground community of the moderately attractive at best, people committed to maintaining their last vestiges of humanity amid the horror of the Botox-ed Armageddon. We shall build a new, unstylish world filled with unfashionable activities like reading and macramé. So start packing your survival kits now, people. Learn a useful trade, like carpentry, farming, or medieval weaponry. When the cataclysm begins, we must be ready. And until then, for the love of all that’s holy, stay away from Michael Bay flicks.