Sight, that one human sense that we value above all else, the one of our five senses that we wouldn’t give up for all the tea in China…wait, all the tea in China? Who the hell came up with that lame expression in the first damn place? Who would actually want to have all the tea in China? You have to figure that would be a whole mess of tea. You want that much tea around your house, hell around your city (again, this is going to be a whole mess of tea)? This would be the tea avalanche to end all tea avalanches, depending of course on how many tea avalanches have been recorded throughout history. I mean, I can’t really recall any, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t happened right? I guess the “tea in China” phrase is still better than that most ridiculous of phrases “Have your cake and eat it too”. What the fuck else would I do with my fucking cake, stare at the damn thing, of course I’m going to eat it. You’ll have to forgive me but I really hate that fucking phrase…in case you couldn’t tell. What the hell was I talking about again, oh yeah, sight.
Yes, it’s your favorite zombie on the streets, back once again to bitch and moan while imparting a little undead wisdom at the same time…or not. This time I’m here to discuss how we undead see the world around us, besides seeing it full of tasty human morsels that is. The first myth to dispel is the myth of so called zombie “super sight”, we don’t have it, at least none that I’ve met. In fact there are very few differences between human and zombie sight, if there were I might not have to wear these fucking glasses still. That’s probably one of the greatest disappointments about the turn, realizing your eyes are just like they were before you died. I can’t tell you how pissed off I was when I awoke after changing and had to reach for my glasses before I could make out my surroundings, glasses which were cracked by the way. You’d think that there might be some kind of zombie code to leave a person’s glasses alone on the off chance they might turn and happen to need said glasses, but no, once the frenzy starts it’s all about chow time, screw the fact that their victim might need them in about five minutes or so. The undead can be such assholes sometimes. What? Have I ever destroyed a person’s eyewear in the middle of a frenzy? Um, I plead the fifth.
So why do zombies seem able to track the living even in the darkest of conditions? Simple, remember that sense of smell we talked about a ways back, well that’s how. We use our nose much more than our eyes; smell is our super sense, not sight. Sight is too misleading anyway since a hungry zombie is not always a smart zombie; the hungry zombie sometimes forgets that humans are masters of setting up decoy targets, targets that are completely useless if we’re using our nose over our eyes. I’ve seen zombies forget all about that wonderful sense of smell and go straight for the first thing they see, only to end up on the receiving end of some meatsack’s crowbar. Of course, since the human is now busy prying his weapon from one of my brethren’s rotten skulls, I now have the opportunity to pry him from his weapon and finish what they started. Mmmmm, making me hungry already.
I already know the next question “So what’s with the way your eyes look?”, personally, I’d be more worried about the way our mouth looks considering the eyes aren’t going to be sinking into your flesh in a few moments but that’s just me. Basically, it’s just massive dry eye. I know, I’m sure you were expecting some complicated reason but that’s really all it is, our eyes are just dry. Remember the commercials with the dude using a beach ball for an eye, it’s like that, just way, way worse.
Anyway, that’s about all I got for now, zombies don’t see any better than humans and have very dry eyes. I don’t think I’m doing my race a favor here by making us less threatening but there it is. Tune in next week when I discuss how zombie dating (not going to be for the squeamish). Man, this issue of The Zombie Zoo seems short. I feel like I should ramble on a bit just to make it longer. I know, let me tell you about the time Uncle David got his leg stuck in the lawnmower, it was so damn funny. There was Uncle D and…wait, no I actually shouldn’t go into that story. Let’s just say it ends with some facts that cops would still like to find out about. I’ll go back to my hovel not if you don’t mind.
Until next time then, this is your unfriendly neighborhood zombie signing out.