Here we are, still living through this damn zombie movie. Only the zombies aren’t the living dead; they’re the incompetent braindead in living bodies, jerkily animated by their own impervious wants, sightless and hollowed out, incapable of self-preservation yet wreakers of havoc and destruction on others. It took just one zombie on the Baltimore Ravens who neglected to cover his nose and mouth with a mask to thereby wreck his own team, and with a ripple effect of infection plunge the NFL into organizational chaos.
They’re easy to spot, zombies: They’re the un-sentient, disconnected husks who walk around breathing potential hell on their colleagues and neighbors. They lurch clumsily into the midst of crowded rooms with their masks either missing or dragging around their chins, spreading their odorless danger mercilessly as they