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So this is how the experiment of man comes to the end of the line, no big outer space conquests of Klingons and then some kind of defeat. Not some giant ant infestation brought on by radio active crap laying around then eaten. I knew when the day came it would be something just as Hollywood in its flashiness but I never guessed this.

I saw all the old movies, I know that you have to beat them down then burn them

up, and don't get bit or your ass is grass. But it is not quite like in the movies, the head

isn't so easy to hit and your instinct is to shoot for the body so you can run. At least that's

how it is for me, the gun is good only for close quarter action. The zombies also seem to

move faster by some degree, or maybe that's how it seems to me. And the zombies have a

funny way of lunging at you with deceptive speed at the last moment.

I will never be a good shot or even an okay shot. Well let's just say they don't call me dead-eye for nothing. I have this eye condition like the reverse of tunnel vision, so the blind spot is in the middle of my sight. The effect of that is to decrease depth perception and distance and to soften up the look of everything. On the other hand there were more pretty women in the world, up to forty percent. It was like an ugly filter. "Well, ya' get lemons, ya' make lemonade."

Seeing the sight at the end of the barrel would be helpful in aiming the gun, I would think. I can see the big picture around me but most of the details are not there until things are in my direct proximity, then I have to react. And react I do! A life time of my best sight existing in a twenty foot radius, past that looking as detailed as background outdoor wall paper, I learned to react quickly as matter of surviving. I could not allow myself to stand out as the blind guy, or half blind guy.

When I got interested in martial arts I was in my twenties. I started with Taekwondo, it peaked my interest and was a good work out, but it really was just a sport, not that punishing on your opponent as you scored points on each other by kicking to the head, ribs and stomach. It did two things for me. One, I learned some pretty cool kicking techniques, those high jump spin flying kicks are all Taekwondo. Two, my introduction to nunchucks. I could not put them down. I quickly ate up all information that I could get from my do jang and then got every book and video and worked it for the next five years. I could play nunchucks like Eddy Van Halen could play guitar. Bruce Lee would weep if he could see me, I'm that good.

Some say that it was the attack on 9-11-01 that brought this on, with all of Manhattan,

PA, DC and Jersey breathing that shit in. Who knows what was in those clouds of plane wreckage smoke? As for me, I think that it made an appearance seven days earlier at the Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethon when they showed Jerry on the stage shambling in a manner I am now seeing a lot of these days, sunken cheeks, circles around the eyes. They have thirty years of sound clips of him begging for money laying around. Just dub one of those clips over some choice video of Jerry, fit it in as if he's lip synching. Behold: instant telethon! Toss in Ed McMahon, a tote board, some phones ringing in the background, a handful of washed up stars and a nice array of retards and there's your telethon. That's what I really thought when I saw the show this year. Looks like a little bit of foreshadowing on my part if I say so myself because that's what happened big time. First millions of zombies were instantly made from the clouds of shit in Manhattan, rural PA, DC and all the surrounding areas. The zombies had a party, unleashed on the remaining population who were not outside. And the cycle started, those dead got up with a renewed enthusiasm not seen since they got dead just a little while earlier.

Shortly there after, the dead started getting up all over the country from east to west.

All the magazines that went out in September with national distribution had Anthrax,

which made a very nice zombie starter kit out of the country, just in time for zombie role

call. Every TV Guide, Woman's World, Time, Weekly World had Anthrax on it. Every

PlayBoy and Penthouse had it, just imagine where those guys were putting it on their bodies as they perused the magazines. Every scent sample in those magazines had respiratory Anthrax, the type you get by inhaling spores. By the time the mad scramble for antibiotics was in full swing, the reanimated dead were becoming an out of control problem.

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