Now if that title doesn't earn me pornographic status in the various 'blog rating systems, I don't know what will. Right-wingers beware -- I use ambiguities in our God-given language to my advantage. Now:
I am not one who condones senseless paranoia inspired by emerging technologies and based in pulp fiction, but this is going to turn us all into zombies. You can see that, right? Even without the abstractly disturbing visual attached to the article, the facts read like the prologue to a dreadful zombie film.
The world thought it had reached equipoise at last -- genetically engineered food sources eliminated hunger, and peace began to evolve from a dream into a standard of living. No one could see anything wrong with the technology . . . until one day, the horrible latent virus in the meat that gradually atrophied the reason center of the human brain reached a critical mass. Panic swept the globe, surviving only as long as most of the population maintained its reason. Soon, however, all that was left of humanity was an awful conglomerate of vicious, shambling undead, feeding on all the live, un-vat-grown flesh they could find.
Or so it seemed. Subversively, on a small island in the North Sea, a group of passionate vegetarians lived and planned an uprising. They had never accepted the practice of consuming meat, despite the supposed lack of cruelty to animals in consuming Vat Meat(TM). Now this pack of loners must gather its disparate groups from around the world and, much like the virus that seemed heaven-sent to destroy the meat eaters, come to life and destroy the new race of cannibals. They may be relatively weak and rather anemic, and they'll have to overcome some certain scruples as regards mammal murder but -- by God -- they'll take the planet back.
Meat may be murder, but these zombies are nothing but vegetables . . . and the vegetarians love them some crudité.
Romero: Call me. I get 20%.
6 comments:
I'm using this.
Thanks.
20% in mail.
George R.
George, I'm going to have to go all Alan Moore on you here and request -- nay: DEMAND -- that my name be taken off the project. I just don't trust you to adhere to my artistic intentions. Nothing personal.
But I still get 20% of everything.
I'll give you 20% of my boot up your ass.
Yours, tenderly:
George R
We go from "Thanks," to physical intimidation? Come now, Georgie-Porgie. Surely the creator of such timeless classics can negotiate without resorting to such low behavior.
And "Diary of the Dead" sucked. Apparently. I didn't even see it, I knew it would suck so bad.
I am sorry that our level of dialogue has diminished to such an extent.
Perhaps, it was my fleeting reference to a recent episode of Family Guy, whose own reference to that 70s show was rather muted; Perhaps it was your demand rather than a gracious attempt to reconcile differences. Either way, I feel like in all future conversations, it would be best if you were to address my as G. Romero: Just a little formality to remind us that this is a business venture and not a simple conversation between friends.
Also: Your Mom sucks so bad.
What up, G? Sorry to hear about my mom.
Cuz' yours sucks AWESOME.
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