“In Praise of Zombies,” by Jon Alan Carroll

Jun 20th, 2009 | By | Category: Prose

Zombies never sigh. Or roll their eyes.

Zombies are never hurt by a rejection from Ploughshares. Not even the third one.

Unlike certain right-wing commentators, zombies do not deeply admire their own courage.

Zombies never direct movies about beautiful young people learning important lessons about life and love.

Zombies are not, as Neal Cassady would say, hung-up about being hung-up.

There are no “great” zombies. They are true team players.

Zombies never write memoirs, fake or not.

If vampires are the professional-managerial class, then zombies are the rank & file. Hardworking, unpretentious, zombies are the blue-collars of the horror world.

Zombies are free from the illusion of free will. No zombie ever wondered, Why did I do that? or What was I thinking?

Zombies never use the word “vision” to describe a marketing plan.

If zombies wrote novels, no zombie-narrator would take 17 goddamn pages to light one cigarette.

Zombies aren’t comforted by the soothing imagery of television commercials. They just aren’t.

Zombies’ dreams never come true, but they deal with it.

Zombies don’t care about soul mates or fabulous vacations or perfect careers. Zombies just want some brains.


Traffic was moving along fine that morning, but he heard this old song on the radio and realized he was wasting his time.

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