Last night I watched Game of Thrones for the very first time. I had never seen an entire episode and wanted to find out what all the fuss is about.
“Who are those guys?” I asked.
“Shhhh” said my son, just like I do when someone interrupts me when I’m watching syndicated reruns of the Monkees.
“White Walkers,” the husband whispered. And I watched (quietly). And I watched a little more.
“Dammit. They’re just Zombies!” I cried in disgust.
“SHHHHH!” my son said.
I mean seriously, is there no escaping zombies anywhere? We’ve got World War Z, we’ve got Zombieland, we’ve got The Walking Dead and Revolution. (Wait! you say. There are no zombies in Revolution! And to that I say, Have you seen the acting?) And now, in Game of Thrones, this show that ostensibly takes place in an ancient and non-trendy plot-device time, we’ve got White Walkers, which I’m guessing is just the Dothraki word for zombie and it somehow got mistranslated into something that sounded ancient and as unlike a trendy plot-device as possible.
With so many zombies bombarding my senses I feel like I’m already living in a zombie apocalypse and the real zombies haven’t even taken over yet, unless, of course, you count Congress.
According to Cracked.com, my go-to science news source, a zombie-apocalypse could actually happen! Snap. As if I don’t have enough to worry about. I’m already all worked up about being bombarded with fictional zombies and now this. Speaking of fictional zombies, I’m thinking I might incorporate some in my next book. It’s another of my new-age, spiritually themed novels, but I’m pretty sure I could throw some zombies in there somewhere. I mean, I totally missed out on the vampire thing, maybe I could try to capitalize on this or even better, perhaps I should throw in some murmuring and S & M. (This should in no way be construed as an admission to reading that book, children!)
If someone had told me my post today would be a rant against fictional zombies, I would have thought the toxoplasmosa gondii had already taken over my brain, or that it was some sort of April Fool’s joke, which reminds me, I forgot to tell my husband before he left for work this morning that I think I'm pregnant. Did you catch that, you guys, the 41 of you on the International Space Station that are reading this right now, according to my real-time Google Analytics? **
And now you. Look at you, reading this with your eyes all glazed over, groaning. Great. Looks like A City Mom zombified you, too. I guess there is no escaping it.
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**This is an inside April Fool's joke! But I'm going to let you inside. Google has Analytics for bloggers that show how many people are viewing your site in real time. Today, everyone is geting 41 real time hits from the International Space Station. Funny folks at Google!