Sunday sin talk, blasphemy, and zombies

Tom and I won some cash in the Powerball last night: 3 bucks.

Not bad for a $1 investment.

So many things happened this week that made me think: "Oooh, I need to blog about that."

Alas, my fried cerebral cortex cannot recall a single one. I think it wants out of this dissertation gig and keeps trying to squish into my frontal lobe. Abstraction only! No more thoughts or language!

So instead of worshiping in a house of the Lord this fine, sunny Sunday, ('cause we never do) some comments from yesterday (and this AM, thanks seeing eye) got me thinking about religion and its numerous mechanisms of control (read: sin) and brain zombification (read: academic writing).



Any of you zombie movie fans? I wasn't until I met my husband and honestly, they are among the creepiest in the horror genre in my opinion.

We were watching 28 Days Later shortly after we entered the sleep-over-of-sin phase of courtship (but prior to the living-in-sin phase) and Tom wanted to watch this movie in my room, in the dark, while it was storming outside.

I am not a squeamish gal, either. I like a good scare. But those fast-running, red-eyed, filthy, gorey, unholy not-dead scared the shit right out of me.

I asked Tom: "What would we do? I mean, if this really happened and the world was filled with a plague that turned people into flesh eating, blood-puking zombies?"

[An aside, I could insert a swipe at our current political climate, but maybe later.]

We occupy the entire second story of an old, post-Civil War home-- so we're not ground level.

"Well," Tom began thoughtfully, "we'd get as many supplies as we could, board up the windows and doors and wait for help to come or until the zombies ran out of food."

There are 15 windows in our apartment. Three exit doors and three staircases. Basically we live in second-story Swiss cheese (ladders provided) with some plaster between the holes in the walls.

I think I fell in love with him that very moment.

Also, because the attic in the ceiling above is poorly ventilated and (I don't think) insulated, in the summer we get heat radiating from below us and above us (opposite in the winter). So when the power grid goes down, we'll either turn into popsicles or nice crispy pork rolls both of which I am sure will please the discerning zombie culinary crowd. One good thing: our place is 80% hard wood floors. We could use that for kindling if the zombie pandemic occurred in the cooler months.

Another thing that is really on our side: we are married right proper. So when the end-of days comes (*cough* *achoo* *sniff*) we can at least rest somewhat safe knowing that we said some vows and signed a contract and bought rings for each other.

I could end this with some snarky remark about how religion rots people's brains (I wonder if that matters to a zombie?) or atrophies growth in the cerebral cortex (certainly a matter of portion size to a hard-working zombie).

Or that some theology is an interesting experiment in entertaining the notion of ghosts, an afterlife, and a dude arisen from the grave.

I guess I am too much of a humanist to put my faith in anyone other than living people.

When the Army of zombies finally takes to the streets, and not just to throw tea bags into bodies of fresh water, know that I will miss you all dearly and will remember the pre-apocalyptic days when we engaged in witty banter and exchanged snarks online in the spirit of true facetiousness (not fascismness-- to any zombie trolls) .

A programming note: my posts and commenting on my favorite blogs (there on the roll to the right) will be sporadic this week.

I am finishing final revisions on my dissertation and submitting it to the committee early next week (defense is scheduled for 5.19). So the craziness and hair rending shall ensue and I don't want to bleed all over my blog and you fine, decent people.

PS: Thanks True Blue Texan for the award; I am deeply honored and vow to post on it as soon as I can!