Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts
By Alyce Wilson
I suppose you must have noticed by now that I've been a zombie for several weeks.
I don't remember how it happened, because the thing about being a zombie is, you get that way when someone eats your brain.
After one becomes a zombie, there is only one thing on one's mind, and it is not the proper use of the word "one."
This being the cyberage, I found out a way to steal brains via the Internet. But in order to collect more brains, I had to trick my friends. Most people aren't foolish enough to click on something that says click on this and I'll steal your brain.
No, one has to be more careful about such things. One has to be sneaky and say things like:
I need a second opinion on a project I'm working on.
Check it out: http://kevan.org/brain.cgi?Alyce_Wilson.
Of course, this ploy was easy for my SysOp friends to see through. They knew better than to click on any damn thing that shows up in their mailbox, especially any link that includes the word "brain." SysOps tend to need their brains, if only so they can be smarter than most computer users.
But my sneaky method was more effective with my writer/artist friends. Before I knew it, I had more brains than I could eat. The vegetarian brains were the yummiest.
My sneakiness backfired on me when one friend, who was having a particularly bad day at work, wrote me a very sweet message saying that she promised to evaluate my project when she was done pulling out her hair.
I wrote back, "Don't worry; I was only trying to eat your brain. Hope things get better at work."
Of course, given what she'd told me about her work place, she might be promoted if I ate her brain.
Immediately after becoming a zombie, all I could think about was brains. And being the pseudo-geek that I am, I naturally had to join the Yahoo!Group for zombies. Nobody in there had much to say. They were all too concerned about where to find more brains.
This is why you don't see networks trying to pitch products to zombies (well, except IKEA). While it's true that zombies will watch virtually any television program, they very seldom buy the products advertised.
Zombies don't care if they have flyaway hair. They don't care about manicures or liposuction. They don't care if they're seen in last year's fashions. Zombies don't care how fast their Internet provider is or how dirty their bathrooms are.
The only reason zombies would be interested in a two-for-one sale would be if the merchandise in question were brains. Of course, zombies wouldn't be happy with just two-for-one. They'd prefer to leave with the entire stock.
Zombies, in fact, are very poor consumers. They don't have any money. If they did, they wouldn't care, unless it would get them brains. Heck, why use money when you can get all the free brains you want just by lumbering through a small town?
Perhaps that's what happened to the small town where I grew up. Maybe the boys really did have one thing on their mind: brains. No wonder I had trouble fitting in, brain in tact and all.
By the way, do you have some brains I could borrow? Or maybe some scrapple?
Moral:
Beware of people who use the word "one." They are zombies.
Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson
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