Lynn Messina's Blog, page 6

Why you're too smart to fall for the latent-humanity fallacy

Let's be honest: It's hard to accept the complete and total debraining of another human being. You look at a zombie and see remnants of the man he used to be—half a nose, part of a jawline, a dangling eye or two. It's like looking at a gorilla: You can trace the outline of humanity in its rough shoulders and dragging arms. Because of these glancing physical similarities, theories have popped up that seek to locate typical zombie behaviors in the human that preceded it. The bellwether of the latent-humanity theory is the zombie's passive fascination with football. Much has been written about their marked preference for Super Bowl III, and we all know that zombies love watching the New York Jets trounce the Baltimore Colts. Zombie behaviorists attribute this partiality to a vestigial love of football shared by all men—a primal scream manifesting itself as a primal sport.

But this supposition perpetuates millennia of dangerous female thinking because it suggests that if we just look hard enough, if we just dig deep enough, we will find the decent human male buried beneath the monster. It wasn't true for Dr. Jekyll and it isn't true today. Scratch the surface of a monster and you will find more monster. To imply otherwise puts the onus on women to look harder and dig deeper, which is misleading and cruel.

Zombies aren't typical "monsters," to be sure. True monsterness requires intent, and zombies don't intend anything. They merely do: forage for brains, stare at football, lumber about. If anything, they're a force of nature—the wind, say—and like the wind, they can destroy or be harnessed for good. There is no middle ground, no recovery of an inner soul. Zombies are empty shells.

But you already know that. Because you're too smart to fall for the latent-humanity fallacy.

Let's work on it together

Today marks a hugely exciting, very important, massively significant day for Zombie Dating 101: Our patented, trademarked, exclusive dateology machine launches. Whoo-hoo!

It has taken us years to refine, but now this sophisticated mechanism is finally ready to help you have your best zombie relationship ever. It will help you

identify common relationship trouble spots
rectify bad dating habits
explain puzzling zombie behavior
empower you to have the boyzomb you deserve

And it's entirely at your disposal. I guarantee it—personally. How can I do that? Because this amazing new device is…me! I've spent the last three years bungling my way through every awkward dating experience in the world. Inconvenient smell? Check. Irate ex? Check. Missing cat suspected of being devoured by a poorly medicated beau? Check. Lost eyeball in the soup? Check. (I challenge you to find a bowl of soup on the island of Manhattan that one of my zombie date's eyes hasn't fallen into.)

I've suffered every excruciating moment so you don't have to.

To get the Zombie Dating 101 dateographer working for you, simply click Help me, Hattie and answer the brief survey, which provides all the information I need to help me help you solve your relationship woes.

Don't hesitate. Click Help me, Hattie today and let's start working on it together!

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Zombie chick lit

If Pride and Prejudice is the first chick lit novel, then isn't Pride and Prejudice and Zombies the first zombie chick lit novel?

I think so.

There is a lot of comedy inherent in the marriage of zombies and women's fiction—and my forthcoming book, The Girls' Guide to Dating Zombies, captures a lot of it.

Here's the description:

Hattie Cross knows what you're thinking: Zombie sex? Ewwwww. But she also knows that since a virus turned 99.9999 percent of human males into zombies, it's statistically impossible to meet--let alone date--the remaining 0.00001 percent. So she writes The Girls' Guide to Dating Zombies to help her fellow single women navigate the zombie-relationship waters. Her practical how-to impresses the CEO of the largest drug company in the world, and before she knows it, Hattie, a reporter for a downmarket tabloid that specializes in conspiracy theories, is sitting down with the woman who single-handedly invented the zombie-behavioral-modification market. Granted access to the inner sanctum of zombaceuticals, she meets an actual, living, breathing M-A-N. Now Hattie, the consummate professional, is acting like a single girl at the end of the twentieth century: self-conscious, klutzy and unable to form a coherent sentence without babbling. Worst of all, the human male appears to have impaired her ability to think clearly. Because all of a sudden she's convinced a conspiracy is afoot at the drug company and it seems to go all the way to the top!

In anticipation of the book's release on Valentine's Day, I've created a blog by protagonist Hattie Cross, in which she discusses many of the topics she covers in her book.

I hope you enjoy.

Lynn

Zombie sex. You'll be surprised.

I know what you're thinking: zombie sex—ewww.

Ewwwww.

Ewwwwwwwwwww.

All done?

Oh, wait, one residual one? OK.

Ew.

Great. Now that that's out of your system, let's move on.

There are many misconceptions about zombie sex—and in the coming months I will discuss all of them here—but the single most enduring one is that zombie sex is gross and disgusting and completely revolting. In a study conducted by Geiser and Meyser Zombaceuticals, 58 percent of respondents said the thought of having sex with a zombie makes them throw up in their mouth.

Fair enough.

But the revulsion women feel at the thought of zombie sex has little to do with the modern, twenty-first century zombie and everything to do with the squidgy, smelly, putrid zombie of generations past. Previous species of zombies smelled like rotten meat mixed with dog crap and decayed at a rapid rate, their skin sliding off their frame like soggy pieces of bacon. Their gnarled teeth tore at their human victims with single-minded mendacity. Their garbled voices hurled growls into the dark night with ferocious hunger.

Any sane human being would feel nauseated at the thought of touching such a disgusting creature.

However, the modern, twenty-first-century zombie is nothing like his predecessor. The variant Y zombie is able to distinguish between higher order and lower order animals. He doesn't crave human brains. This abstention has paved the way for a groundbreaking revolution in zombie pharmaceuticals. With the right regimen of zombaceuticals, today's zombie is cleaner, firmer, sweeter smelling, better mannered and just plain nicer than his forerunner.

Zombie sex. You'll be surprised

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Don't be shy—show us your man candy

With only 344,923 human males left on the planet (and dropping), it's been decades since many of us have seen an actual man in the flesh (or in anything, for that matter). Most h1z1 survivors choose to lead lives of luxurious seclusion, far removed from the seething mass of female humanity at street level. So when we do happen to spot one, it's a momentous event: Crowds gather, cars crash, mailboxes explode.

We. Can't. Get. Enough.

In that spirit, I'm starting Man Candy Monthly. How does it work? Simple. Go about your daily life. If you happen to catch a glimpse of the elusive human male, snap a shot and send it to me. At the end of the month, I'll post all the photos and you'll vote on who is the man candiest. The winning photographer will get a free copy of my book, The Girls' Guide to Dating Zombies, which will be out just in time for Valentine's Day.

Don't be shy—get snapping!

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Welcome to the zombpocalypse

Yeah, I know that you know that I know that you know things are desperate. Twenty years ago, the H1Z1 variant Y virus wiped out 99.9999 percent of men on earth, leaving behind a couple billion rotting zombies and obliterating all hope of your ever having a satisfying relationship with a living human male.

Blah blah blah.

I've heard your sad song before, sister, and I'm here to change your tune.

Those couple billion rotting zombies? They're ready to commit. They have no fidelity issues. And they love to go shopping for shoes.

In some ways, a zombie boyfriend is even better than a human boyfriend. He never complains if you're running a little late, and his ego doesn't get in a twist if you make more money than he. The zombified mind is an enlightened one.

Interested but don't know where to start? You start here. I'm Hattie Cross and I write the weekly Girls' Guide to Dating Zombies for the Daily Scoopage. I can tell you where to meet a zombie, how to meet a zombie, what to wear when meeting a zombie and what to do once you've met him. I'll give you advice on regulating your boyzomb's appetite, controlling his stench and curtailing his putrefaction. I'll even discuss the perennially "icky" topic of zombie sex. Trust me, there are good times ahead.

Welcome to the zombpocalypse. It's not all bad.

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