What Do You Mean, You Unleashed A Plague Of The Undead?

"Oh no! The dead have risen and they're voting Republican!" ~  Lisa Simpson

"To eat, or not to eat brains, that is the question." ~ Zombie Shakespeare

"Fourteen score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all zombies are entitled to brains." ~ Zombie Lincoln, the Second Gettysburg Address

"Braaaaaaaiiiiinssss!" ~ Malcolm Porter, Rapid City zombie district commander, January 4th, 2021

And so we return once more to the genre of the brain eating slow-witted undead today (no, not the cast of Dancing With The Stars). The zombie. As I've shown you before, the zombie is a strange beast in the horror genre, muttering incoherently (mostly about brains) and shuffling about in large numbers in a post-apocalyptic world, while a small group of humans race to prevent themselves from being the next blue plate special at a zombie smorgasbord.

Okay. Let's say the impossible has happened. You wake up, find yourself in a world where most everyone around you has become a zombie. They're out for brains (if you're still a living breathing person, they'll be after yours, and no, it doesn't matter if you two used to play golf together). So they'll be out for you. I can't imagine that being torn apart by a horde of zombies will be a pleasant death.

What kind of world will you be facing? Well, obviously a bad one. Zombies will be the majority, and they'll get themselves organized. They might even run for elected office.

Of course, that doesn't count out the enemies of the past rising up from the grave and causing their own problems in the world, does it?

 What kind of world will our zombie counterparts carve out for themselves? When they're not carving out the inner organs of the Ludlows down the street (sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Ludlow, but you did have it coming; the pink flamingoes on the lawn really are tacky).

Zombies will, eventually, want to experience some form of culture. So inevitably there will come the rise of zombie movies. Such as Indiana Jones And The Feast Of Brains.

Obviously this idea would have to be taken out by surviving humans post haste. No more of that, thank you very much....

We can't forget the comic books that will rise up in the new zombie order....

Zombie children must be entertained too....

And tween zombies will want their Bieber for some reason. Wonderful. Is it too much to ask for a post-apocalyptic world that doesn't feature the Biebertwit?

Is there room for romance in the lives of zombies?

Well, the zombies do like their pin-up zombie girls....

And there'll also be the zombie pet problem to cope with.

Obviously religious rites will take on a whole new meaning. Communion, for instance...

We can hope it doesn't happen. We can hope that the zombiepocalypse that's foretold in sci-fi and horror never comes to pass. If it does, however, I suggest some things. First, get used to shooting zombies who used to be people. Yes, I know it goes against your nature to shoot your neighbour (at least it should), but Zombie Phil doesn't share your hesitation, and only wants to feast on your grey matter. And your intestines. Your heart too. So suck it up and start shooting. Aim for the head while you're at it. Second, if you've got a weak stomach and are sickened when you see blood, you might as well just give up and cover yourself with barbecue and honey sauce. A patrol of zombies will be along shortly to finish you off. Because if you do have a weak stomach, you're not going to last long in Zombie World.

Lastly... if zombies are chasing you, make sure the guy running with you is slower then you are.

Hey, it's about self preservation!

The Blunders Of A Not So Fictional Politician

UNDOF Peacekeeping post, Golan Heights

"Our enemies are resourceful and innovative, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." ~ George W. Bush

"Good God, is it four in the afternoon already? Monica, you'd better leave before Hill gets back. She gets cranky..." ~ Bill Clinton, 1994

"Mr. President, the Vice President has shot a lawyer." ~ Secret Service Agent to George W. Bush

"If I can impart any wisdom to you as you graduate and go forth from this place, it is this. Keep an enemies list. And never stop loathing with every breath of your being every single person on that enemies list." ~ Richard Nixon, speaking at graduation ceremonies, Northwestern, 1988

"Damned Liberals. Damned New Democrats. Damned Bloc. Damned Green Party. Damned Conservatives. Jim, let's have all parties abolished and the government of the country placed exclusively under my absolute tyrannical control. I can be trusted, right? Right? Jim?" ~ Stephen Harper, September 2012


In recent days I've been adding a couple of passages in my ongoing work in progress. In the midst of war breaking out in the Golan Heights between Syria and Israel (incidentally, as of this writing things are flaring up there), I wrote a political blunder by a leader who while unnamed, is essentially the buffoon currently running my country. Yes, it's Stephen Harper.

Up until now, when I've written world leaders in the book, it's usually been by title. The American President goes unnamed. So do the British Prime Minister and the Israeli Prime Minister. The Syrian President will also go unnamed (though I've been paying a fair amount of attention to the domestic situation there and contemplating how to write it in). The exception has, of course, been the leadership of Iran.

In reality and in my book, a UN mission of peacekeeping troops called UNDOF holds the line in a demilitarized zone between Israel and Syria in the Golan. For the purposes of my book, the commander of the mission is a Canadian general. I decided to write the following passages, and it reflects my political stance. The first passage is from the night before, featuring the American President in the Oval Office watching some news in the aftermath of the Very Bad Thing (no, I'm not telling). The second is from the point of view of my UNDOF commander.

Though I never name the PM in question in either passage, it's fairly obvious who I'm referring to. I'm wondering though, does it come across as a political rant against someone I rather dislike?

Judge for yourselves.

He picked up the remote, turning up the volume. The Canadian Prime Minister was in the midst of a press conference, apparently talking about the building crisis in the Middle East. The President had spoken earlier with the PM about the situation and the peacekeeping force in between the lines. It made sense for him to be speaking to the press; after all, the UNDOF commander was a Canadian general. The President sighed in dismay at the sight of the man, who had always been far too partisan, too much of a control freak and hard ideologue for his comfort. We’ve got plenty of those on this side of the border too, on both sides of the political fence, the President reminded himself.

“Of course we’re very alarmed by the crisis,” the Prime Minister was saying in that cold, detached way of his. He looked as though he was wishing to break away from the press. His relationship with the media was, at the best of times, a tense one. “We’re consulting with our allies and the United Nations on the situation. Our peacekeeping troops are on duty in the area, as you know, and this government is always concerned with the well being of our soldiers. If you’ll excuse me, that’s all the time I have at the moment.” He stepped away from the podium, accompanied by an aide. The PM walked towards the exit, apparently forgetting his microphone was still on as he muttered, “Like I could give a damn about peacekeepers.”

There was an audible gasp from the press gallery, and the PM turned, looked at the reporters he despised, as if realizing his mistake. His eyes flashed with the deer-in-the-headlights look. The President shook his head at the absurdity of it all, hearing the sound of reporters erupt into shouts and questions. “That’s going to cost you,” he told the screen. The Prime Minister disappeared through a doorway, ignoring the shouts of the press. The President changed the channel, finding CNN.


***

It had been a long day already for the commander of UNDOF, his staff, and the multinational troops under his command along what had been the demilitarized zone between Israel and Syria. Now, without a night’s sleep, it had stretched into a second day. His name was Alec Bryson, a major-general in the Canadian Forces, and for the last year commanding officer of the peacekeeping force that had kept the two sides apart. Last night the Syrians had come through his lines.

            Bryson had been a career officer for nearly thirty years, with an impressive record of service. He was handsome, with cropped dark blond hair and brown eyes. He wore working fatigues at the moment, as did his staff, which had been spent the night burning up phone lines to Damascus, Tel Aviv, and the UN. He had spoken with leaders from both sides since after the (Very Bad Thing, to be disclosed later), pleading for calm, for patience. It had fallen on deaf ears. The Israelis were infuriated by the invasion. The Syrians were no doubt were being prodded by Iran into the invasion. Neither side would listen to him.

            He had also placed calls back to his own government. The Prime Minister would take no calls; he was in full damage control mode after his blunder the previous night. The Minister of Defence, an ineffective politician at best, had little to say. Politicians, Bryson thought with disgust. He had heard about the press conference, and the PM’s remark about peacekeepers didn’t surprise him. For all the man’s love of photo ops with soldiers in the war zone, the PM seemed to have little regard for the well being of those troops. Veterans had to hound and prod his government for care and fair treatment. The troops amounted to little more than handy photo-op material for the PM and his team of advisors. And he had an institutional loathing for the very concept of peacekeeping.

            Bryson sighed. He wasn’t political, thought little of most people who went into that profession. There were a handful of them who were decent, but most of them were just opportunistic and short sighted. Still, the petty vindictiveness and contempt that he had seen out of the PM annoyed him. While he had to serve at the behest of the man, it didn’t mean he had to respect him. And one day after his retirement, he could always write his memoirs. Of course, after last night’s stupidity, I wonder how long he’ll still be in office, the general thought. That, at least, gave him a measure of satisfaction. 

There we've got it. Are my political stripes showing?

In the meantime, I leave you with this, a little something I found while looking for images on political blunders...

We Can't Be Stupid Enough To Give This Monumental Idiot A Majority, Can We?

Obviously this blog isn't going to win me any friends in Calgary Southwest. Or a seat in the Senate. At least not under the jackbooted regime of the current tyrant still occupying 24 Sussex.

For the record, in case it's not obvious, I'm annoyed.

No, wait, annoyed isn't quite sufficient.

I'm disgusted.

And infuriated.

The election's over, and the Conservatives now have a majority of seats in Parliament. For the next four years, they've got potentially free rein to gleefully go about tearing down the institutions of this country, gutting the very concept of this nation on the altar of their neo-conservative policies, and continue to obliterate the good name this country had on the international stage for decades.

Decades, incidentally, are how long it'll take to repair the damage these pricks are going to do for the next four years.

So annoyed, disgusted, and infuriated aren't sufficient, but they'll have to do.

A government that was not only found in contempt in Parliament with their secretive, power hungry, obstructionist, partisan tactics, but is also in contempt of anyone who doesn't think exactly like they do, is now in majority control of Parliament. A schoolyard thug, his inner cabal of flying monkeys and knuckledragging neanderthals, and their pals are running the show.

 At least they've got a stronger opposition in  the NDP, albeit one that's pretty much the polar opposite of everything they stand for.

It's going to be a loooooooong four years....