Since I have been experiencing some difficulty in managing to sit down and write a blog post, Uncle Morty has agreed to take on this task today. I find that his condition gives his writing a certain rambling quality. Nevertheless...here it is....Uncle Morty's first blog post.
I believe his topic today is "The Fear of the Apocalypse Among the Living." Sounds more academic than it probably is.
Good luck. I'm off to take a nap.
Here begins the blog of Uncle Morty: (by Uncle Morty)
Hello my flesh covered friends. It's your Uncle Morty, here to deaden up your day and give the living a little perspective.
I was once covered with fear and flesh myself. There's nothing wrong with blood and nerves; I remember the feeling of the cool wind on warm flesh, sliding across my arms like water in the hot summer air. I probably appreciate your position more than you do as I've seen this thing we call life from both sides now, as I sit on my bare and unforgiving bones, under appreciated and nigh forgotten.
However, I will give up complaining for a few moments as I have a chance to give you an outside view of the culture of the living. Think of me as an anthropologist of sorts. When I am bored, I watch a bit of television and some of your films, just to see what you are up to. (Something I would have said I wouldn't be caught dead doing when I was alive...oh well...you die and learn.) And something I've noticed is that you've caught a collective fear of the apocalypse - zombies (some of my best friends and I can't say I appreciate how they've been portrayed), disease, nuclear war, asteroids - you name it the living will fear it. The living fear death and being narcissists, the death they fear - their own - becomes the death of the world itself. But their fear of death is also a longing. There is a part of every living person, no matter how good, no matter how unselfish that relishes in the destruction of the sensual and the physical. Why do they long for the end? Perhaps it's the need to just get it over with. Perhaps they have been infected by that noxious philosophy of the living that tells them that evil resides in the carnate flesh. (Do without flesh for a day or two or have a conversation with a vampire; you will see that living flesh is not evil and evil does not need living flesh as a residence.)
Of all people, your Uncle Morty understands the pleasure with which one might consider the destruction of this rat race, if for no other reason than to rid the world of Reality TV. (By the gods, but life is wasted on the living sometimes!) Dead or alive, the thought crosses your minds that starting over might be all for the best; and that ending it might be all the better. Most of you feel this way because you are weary of the weight of your flesh, and the spinning of this old world seems to be in the wrong direction often enough. So you indulge yourselves in a mythology which allows you to explore the possible endings and judgments and the moral implications of being a living creature hurtling towards death with all the other fleshlings inhabiting this planet with you.
If you're building a bunker or asking your local gun shop owner which ammo is better for killing zombies? Or some of you religious people who can't wait to see God smiting your enemies and tearing the place down...I don't even know how to speak to you about such longings. If you are that far gone, you will probably be unmoved by the advice of either the living or the long dead.
But back to the rest of you...for whom this is a normal and probably somewhat healthy fear/fantasy. I have a couple of things to say about your cultural obsession.
First, you have it all wrong...it's not going to happen the way you think it is. Case in point: Underarm hair. I haven't seen one TV show or movie depicting the apocalypse where the women have armpit hair or unshaven legs. If you can't even predict that the ladies aren't going to have the time or interest to comb through the ruins of Walmart looking for razors after the apocalypse then you probably should just quit making predictions at all. At least you should acknowledge the somewhat mythic nature of your predictions and enjoy them for what they are instead of getting caught up in actual preparations and fears for a thing that will most likely never happen in the way you imagine it. The creation of a death story should be a spur to live in your flesh while you have it; not a means of separating you from the world you must inhabit.
Second, while you must think about the future to some extent, those of you still covered in your suits of skin must live in the here and now. Your puny little arms can do a surprising amount of good in the present you must inhabit but they are quite useless in the future, which is not yet your country. It seems to me that such an array of terrible stories, apocalyptic stories, would have you fleshlings running about like mad rabbits, trying to combat the prophesies therein contained. Instead, they merely serve to make you cynical and useless. (My living host for instance, is taking a nap...fiddliing while Rome burns...sleeping away the moments that count).
At any rate, it doesn't quite matter to me I suppose. I will take my old bones back to the library and rest up. (I have a good bit of complaining to do this afternoon and I need my energy.) See you on the other side.