October 2011
Silver Springs, MD, US
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There were rumours--unsettling rumours. The dead would walk amongst the living in hundreds, if not thousands. And they were converging a mere 10 miles away from my apartment to harvest an intoxicating annual crop.
"Yeah. Everyone turns into a zombie for a few hours and then goes to bars." Paige (my partner intern at "All Things Considered") spoke about the event as if it were completely normal.
I stared back at her with an existential dismay. What does it mean to be human? What science, evil or wizardry bring the dead back? Can one truly be friends with a zombie? I decided that I had to see for myself.
"Stop staring at me," said Paige. Either Paige was an emotional rock or she was a zombie sympathizer. I kept her in the corner of my eye for the rest of the day--just in case.
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Panic cloaked in awe: zombies were real and they were massing at a tiny bar in Southern Maryland.
I quickly tacked on to a small squad of survivors which quartered itself in an alley nearby. In between zombie attacks and supply raids, they had spilt their dreams and histories to me.
"How long can we keep killing [zombies]? We keep losing survivors--there has to be a better way," Paula explains on why she won't use lethal weaponry on zombies in any circumstance. Instead, she has created a weaponized experimental cure for zombieism which she hopes will at least partially return zombies to humanity. Field tests have shown effective but only for a few minutes after injection.
Paula's philosophy seems well founded. Around the corner are non-aggressive zombie-activists, politely grunting and steadfastly holding signs advocating zombie rights.
"I don't know about that. We came down here to kill zombies. And that's what we'll do."
These three survivors had jumped on the nearest train to come to Silver Springs. It was a slow Friday night and when they heard word of the zombie uprising, they raided the nearest ammo depot in preperation for the fight. In the above image, "Bait" attempts to repair a snapped rifle. But he would have no time. There was movement in the zombie bar.
Piercing shrieks signaled the beginning of the rampage towards downtown. And in it, I could see unfortunate souls taken from mundane but otherwise normal and safe lives.
Whilst at their homecoming dance, the above group was hit with an airborne version of what they surmised to be a virulent zombie virus. Once they felt an uncanny taste for flesh, they tore up their formal wear and consumed their entire freshman class; fully embracing their new un-lives
A refreshing raison d'etre embraced by these nice folks.
And these
And these as well
Freed from their humanity, the undead--by the very definition of their new status--are born into a radical equality. In un-death, all are equal and beyond cliques and prejudices.
Others maintained much more of their humanity. Below is a wonderful pair of vegetarian zombies. Legitimate vegetarians at that; none of the Twilight "I eat animals but still call myself a vegetarian because Stephanie Meyer doesn't understand her latin root words" vegetarianism.
Truly, a sweet couple. They both survived the horde's breakthrough into downtown. A spearhead which was looking pret-ty good.
Paramilitary humanist groups were able to hold Main St. for a few minutes--just barely enough time to call for a few scattered reinforcements. Just enough time to evacuate civilians.
Once reinforcements arrived, the resistance met with crucial logistical mistakes. Easily flanked and unable to reload quickly enough, the survivors were torn apart and the battle ended predictably.
Very predictably.
In little over a half hour, there were no more survivors.
The horde, now dozens stronger, pushed faster through downtown until it reached its target: the AFI's midnight screening of Dawn of the Dead. Amidst the last screams of human victims, the horde finally ended its unstoppable charge.
Filled to bursting with the customary dinner before a movie, the zombies did what zombies do best. They shuffled towards the box office and, ever so patiently, they waited.
Date night never looked so savage.
-P
-------------------------------
Silver Springs, MD, US
--------------------------
There were rumours--unsettling rumours. The dead would walk amongst the living in hundreds, if not thousands. And they were converging a mere 10 miles away from my apartment to harvest an intoxicating annual crop.
"Yeah. Everyone turns into a zombie for a few hours and then goes to bars." Paige (my partner intern at "All Things Considered") spoke about the event as if it were completely normal.
I stared back at her with an existential dismay. What does it mean to be human? What science, evil or wizardry bring the dead back? Can one truly be friends with a zombie? I decided that I had to see for myself.
"Stop staring at me," said Paige. Either Paige was an emotional rock or she was a zombie sympathizer. I kept her in the corner of my eye for the rest of the day--just in case.
---------------------
Panic cloaked in awe: zombies were real and they were massing at a tiny bar in Southern Maryland.
I quickly tacked on to a small squad of survivors which quartered itself in an alley nearby. In between zombie attacks and supply raids, they had spilt their dreams and histories to me.
Paula's philosophy seems well founded. Around the corner are non-aggressive zombie-activists, politely grunting and steadfastly holding signs advocating zombie rights.
"I don't know about that. We came down here to kill zombies. And that's what we'll do."
These three survivors had jumped on the nearest train to come to Silver Springs. It was a slow Friday night and when they heard word of the zombie uprising, they raided the nearest ammo depot in preperation for the fight. In the above image, "Bait" attempts to repair a snapped rifle. But he would have no time. There was movement in the zombie bar.
Piercing shrieks signaled the beginning of the rampage towards downtown. And in it, I could see unfortunate souls taken from mundane but otherwise normal and safe lives.
A refreshing raison d'etre embraced by these nice folks.
And these
And these as well
Freed from their humanity, the undead--by the very definition of their new status--are born into a radical equality. In un-death, all are equal and beyond cliques and prejudices.
Others maintained much more of their humanity. Below is a wonderful pair of vegetarian zombies. Legitimate vegetarians at that; none of the Twilight "I eat animals but still call myself a vegetarian because Stephanie Meyer doesn't understand her latin root words" vegetarianism.
Truly, a sweet couple. They both survived the horde's breakthrough into downtown. A spearhead which was looking pret-ty good.
Once reinforcements arrived, the resistance met with crucial logistical mistakes. Easily flanked and unable to reload quickly enough, the survivors were torn apart and the battle ended predictably.
Very predictably.
In little over a half hour, there were no more survivors.
The horde, now dozens stronger, pushed faster through downtown until it reached its target: the AFI's midnight screening of Dawn of the Dead. Amidst the last screams of human victims, the horde finally ended its unstoppable charge.
Filled to bursting with the customary dinner before a movie, the zombies did what zombies do best. They shuffled towards the box office and, ever so patiently, they waited.
Date night never looked so savage.
-P
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