The Shuffling Horde that roams the land has built itself primitive social groups that control its ebb's and flows. These structures are based on violence and barbarity. The hordes shuffle into groups supporting a champions, who assault one another in a bloody and devastating Battle-Royale. This leaves the victor to command the hordes. These Über-Zombies weakened from the melee must not upset its rivals as it cannot survive another brawl. it must deliver on its promises of brains, it must leap once again into the fray, seeking out brains to consume and devour, to continue the zombie onslaught for one more day.
The Über-Zombies are constantly pushing to expand the zombie domination, for, if the horde fails to feed, the Über will instead be devoured. Never does the horde look for more than the immediate gratification of now. never looking beyond this brain, this meal, right now. There is no halt to their waves, they do not stop, they constantly feed.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Approching the Time of the Endless Currents
Here we are, January of 2009. we are in the future. But what future are we in? The Robots control most of the information of the world stored in their huge servers connected by wires that were once laid down by the zombies of mankind. The realm of ideas has been confined to a robotic listing of 0's and 1's traveling though space at light speed. The robots control this alternative universe of thought and cognition with an steady gaze, watching all recording all knowing all. The espionage they commit is far beyond what lay in the dreams of Orwell.
The Zombies roam the earth, insular in their habits. they do not communicate with one another but move about their business always looking for brains. Why they search out the cerebellum with such haste I don't know but I see them out there, shuffling their feet looking for something anything to tell them what to do, where to go, to give meaning to their meandering lives. but no, life, as it always has, goes on.
This dystopian reality is the creation of humanity. They are the ideal dream that people held for years. We are living in the future, and now, no-one knows what to do. we no longer have goals or ideals, we no longer plan for the future as it is already here and no one can seem to care.
We whine and moan about those things that don't work, while no longer dreaming of that new reality, we are caught up in our make believe world of the robots and the zombies and like it like that. We will not be drawn out of our fantasy worlds to take a look at what is going on outside our windows. We are slaves to the machine and we like it like that.
The Zombies roam the earth, insular in their habits. they do not communicate with one another but move about their business always looking for brains. Why they search out the cerebellum with such haste I don't know but I see them out there, shuffling their feet looking for something anything to tell them what to do, where to go, to give meaning to their meandering lives. but no, life, as it always has, goes on.
This dystopian reality is the creation of humanity. They are the ideal dream that people held for years. We are living in the future, and now, no-one knows what to do. we no longer have goals or ideals, we no longer plan for the future as it is already here and no one can seem to care.
We whine and moan about those things that don't work, while no longer dreaming of that new reality, we are caught up in our make believe world of the robots and the zombies and like it like that. We will not be drawn out of our fantasy worlds to take a look at what is going on outside our windows. We are slaves to the machine and we like it like that.
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