Zombie dads commute to corporate jobs they despise, just so they can afford stuff. They have been brainwashed by commercials to believe that brand names give their lives value and meaning. They count the days, one after another, until they can retire. Little do they realize that the best part of life is time. But they’ve already sold out. They are the living dead.
Zombie moms medicate themselves out of depression, and abuse over-the counter the drugs to keep them going throughout the day. They believe the TV commercials, that say they are just “one yellow pill away from happy.” Mom never got the house she always wanted, nor the perfect kids, but the pills make everything okay.
Zombie kids sit in front of the TV all afternoon playing video games, living in worlds that don’t exist, controlling characters they envy. Pushing plastic buttons in a world where they have the freedom to run and play, behavior their parents condone because they believe the world is, indeed, unsafe for children.
Trigger-happy zombie cops are shooting innocent dogs and teenagers. Police forces are becoming further militarized preparing for terrorist attacks while they trample on our freedoms and constitution and neglect the value of human life.
However, there are some who are waking up the living dead: artisans, farmers, craftspeople and those who spend time following their passion and developing their craft. The non-zombies would love to see the zombie apocalypse end, but they worry that the cancer has spread too far and too deep. But the silver bullet is in simply showing the zombies there is indeed a better way.
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