On Reese’s Peanut butter Cups and the Zombie Apocalypse
If you have eyes, then you’ve probably noticed that Autumn is upon us here and New England. Leaves are turning bright on limbs, there are pumpkins all over the place, and copious amounts of pumpkin spice flavored things are being consumed across America. I’ve been eating a ridiculous amount of pumpkin-shaped Reese’s cups in both an attempt to be festive and a complete lack of self-control. (Why are the abnormally shaped Reese’s so much better than the normal ones? I think they might be more peanutbuttery.)
I’ve been enjoying the I really jumped the gun on this jacket weather and the excuse to eat more candy, and now I’d like to take the opportunity to talk to you about zombies. Partially because they’re spooky and Octoberish, but mostly because about twenty minutes ago I attended a lecture by the man who wrote novel-turned-Brad-Pitt-movie called World War Z.
REACTION: To be honest, the guy is a bit of a pompous windbag. But he was also impressively witty and sarcastic, and he delivered a kick-ass lecture on how to realistically survive a zombie apocalypse. His answers surprised me.
I made an earnest attempt to read World War Z, but bailed after about 100 pages when there were still no real zombies. The book was slow moving, but its concept is sort of awesome. It’s written as a series of interviews with people explaining their experiences of zombie invasions, and it focuses on the practical issues of the subject. (This is what I gleaned from my incomplete reading, so bear with me if I’m wrong,) but the book focused less on the brain-bashing of toothless gray corpses and more on the topics of welp, the world is being overrun with the undead, so we better find some drinkable water! If you’re looking for some brain-bashing and Brad Pitt, I’m told the movie is the better choice.
But when I thought about it, this guy made some good points. In the event of zombie-crisis, what would become of organized governments and societies? Would we revert back to nomadic and brutal survivalism and begin to eat each other when we ran out of food? Would even one person be dumb enough to try and eat the zombies? (I think it’d be cool to turn the tables.) Couldn’t you just pack up a bunch of stuff in a boat and camp out in the ocean for a while? Can zombies swim??
Zombie survivalist guru Max Brooks had answers for nearly all of these questions, (someone did ask if zombies farted and I was a little disappointed when the question went unanswered) and his borderline insane logic makes me want to give his novel a second try. You should too, especially if your first reaction to a zombie apocalypse would be to burst onto the streets wielding a baseball bat thinking, “I’ve seen like two episodes of The Walking Dead, I think I got this.”
I’d like to dedicate this post to my dear friend Andie, who is slaving over chocolate chip cookies right now so I could finish writing. She is fabulous.