The End Of The World - An Excuse To Party!

Let's have some fun. First point - that image above that has been circulating the web is not Mayan. It's the Aztec sun calendar. (No, not the Oreo cookie, you silly thing!) If you're going to go all doomsday on everyone, at least get your cultures right.

Zombie apocalypses are very popular these days. I'm not sure why. Maybe because the worldwide economy is circling the drain people feel as if they're in survival mode. I'm really not a big one on zombies, although I have my favorite zombie movies like Zombieland, Fido, Shaun Of The Dead, and especially Braindead (Dead-Alive). When I first met my husband, I told him if he couldn't sit through Dead-Alive, we weren't meant to be together. He loved it! We watch it every year on our anniversary.

Most zombie stories are told from the point of view of the survivors. I wanted to try something a little different. My story Trailer Trash Zombies, which will appear in the anthology Midnight Movie Creature Feature 2 in 2013, is from the point of view of one of the zombies. Granted, he's not your ordinary, shuffling, drooling zombie. He's quite articulate and intelligent. Want to meet him? Here's an excerpt from my story:

I changed six months ago after hooking up with a really hot, tiny little Japanese zombie at an underground zombie bondage rave in Salem. Zombies I had met weren't stupid, numb louts that stumbled around deserted streets moaning to no one in particular and eating any flesh they could get hold of. Most of us were as intelligent as we were when we were alive, although our bodies were a bit worse for wear. We don't drool and moan or squeal for braaains, unless we were making a snot-nosed joke. I'd say the zombie outbreak in Massachusetts started just as summer heat was at its hottest, and the new comet Hawley-Schmidt was discovered streaking across the night sky. I guess we technically weren't zombies although everyone called us zombies for lack of a better word. We were more the walking dead left over from an extra-terrestrial viral outbreak of some sort but we roamed the streets day and night. We talked and fucked and some of us went to work every morning. We even voted. We were just… different.

Once word got out that the dead walked around Salem and Cambridge the hipsters wanted in on the new craze. Lots of humans went to zombie raves when they were lucky enough to find them, which was hard because zombies were so "don't ask, don't tell". They remained as hidden as they could, especially when news got out that another gang of rednecks cornered one and beat it until it was nearly more dead than it already was.

Zombies had a presence in Salem but the witches ran everything and they didn't care for the undead encroaching on their territory so the zombies kept a low profile. That Japanese zombie took a hefty chunk out of my shoulder when we were getting it on in a back room and the damned thing never did heal because my flesh is no longer amongst the living.  Corey and Mike were the only two people in Norwich who knew about my condition, and I thanked them frequently for keeping my secret. The last thing I needed were local vigilantes raiding my apartment and tossing my sorry ass out on the street, after burning everything I owned because they were afraid by merely standing within a few feet of a zombie they'd "catch" it.

I got the idea for this story from the craziness I've seen in the apartment complex where I live. We're looking for new digs. I live in a small, New England town with typical small town goofiness. Just last week, the police stopped by to help a guy get a squirrel out of his apartment. That's not to mention our former upstairs neighbors who had knock-down, drag-out fights all hours of the day and night. The police had been trying to catch him screwing up for months but they had nothing on him. Rumor was he was a meth dealer and she was a hooker. Great. I want out of here so badly I can taste it. If the end of the world was coming, this apartment complex is the first place that would show signs. 

The Mayan apocalypse is big news to everyone - except the Mayans. Yes, they still exist. They only laugh at us silly white people over our latest end-of-the-world prediction. The last one was the Rapture. I and lots of like-minded people held a Post-Rapture Looting Party the day after the Rapture was supposed to have happened. Before that, there was 6-6-6: June 6, 2006. The Mark Of The Beast made the calendar. Guess what happened that day? 

Nothing.

As far as I'm concerned, these apocalyptic warnings are just an excuse to party. Like I already said, in the summer of 2011, I and plenty of like-minded folk held a Post-Rapture Looting Party. Mine was on my wall on Facebook, and it was a huge success. This year, I'm holding a Post-Mayan Apocalypse Looting Party tomorrow, December 22, 2012 from noon EST until I drop. Head to my wall on Facebook and let's have a blast! Hang out, chat about Christmas, discuss the New Year's Resolutions you have no intention of keeping, talk about books, goof off, and have fun! BYOB. Here's my Facebook page. Everyone here is invited to my party.

Elizabeth Black - Facebook

I hope to see you there. Let's make the Mayan apocalypse a day no one will ever forget! Just don't tell the Mayans. They'll laugh at us even more. Considering the state of the world now, maybe it's best it all ends today. There is a world-wide financial crisis. Global warming. Honey Boo Boo. Sometimes it's just best to let things go. But if the world doesn't end today, don't forget my party tomorrow!