The bitter contest is behind us, Jazz Fans. And it’s time for the winners to be gracious. To be a Zombie in Victory!
Now, that phrase may strike you as odd. Am I suggesting that the winners of a given contest now have the right to eat the brains of the loser? No, fans, nothing could be further from the truth. Why, I’d have to have my own brains eaten to subscribe to that theory. (Stop laughing, J-Bo!) No, I don’t mean the brain eating, or the being undead thing, or the general level of hygiene that these creatures attain, or fail to attain. These qualities are disgusting, and should be avoided by anyone over twenty-seven.
No, I mean the finer qualities of the zombie. The quiet dignity with which they stride through the streets, head held high. (The zombologists insist it’s because they’re sniffing for brains, but it sure looks regal.) The way they bear their misfortunes without complaining– going out into the street with whatever rags they still wear without an ounce of self-consciousness, never whining if an ear or a limb should fall off in their travels. (The zombologists insist that this lack of pretense indicates a commensurate lack of brain activity, but I can think of a Spice Girl who could use a lack of brain activity. I’m looking at you, Posh!)
And the victors of the recent unpleasantness should emulate these fine traits. Don’t gloat over the cowering innocent in your path. Just kill him and move on. Don’t rub the fallens’ noses in the filth, when that same soft tissue may be the best access to the brain. Don’t be a sore winner. Be a winner that no longer feels anything, due to decayed nerve endings.
Follow the zombie’s fine example, and you’ll not only be a winner to the world, but you’ll be a winner to the losers you’ve disgraced. And robbing them of their shame, rage and need for revenge is the same as eating their brains.