{Thoughts From A Not Entirely Deceased} Christmas Cheer.

Lately, I've been talking to some other Not Entirely Deceased Americans (I was informed recently that zombie is an offensive term, and this amuses me to no end. I'm dead, what else do I have to be offended about?), and I found an overwhelming majority of us really enjoy Christmas. We really couldn't care any less about the whole gift giving, gift receiving, shopping thing though. Most of us have at some point or another since our rebirth (I was also informed recently that talking about becoming a Not Entirely Deceased American in terms of having died really promotes a negative self perception, hence the term, rebirth), realized that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of the man who would one day become the worlds favorite Undead. Easter seems to be the only holiday Undead Americans really enjoy more, as of course it marks the rebirthday of our most famous and effective emissary.

It was only recently, with the beginning of the whole holiday season that I realized the entire Christian world worships an undead person. I'm really not sure what else you can possibly call the man. He did die. He did rise from the grave. These are the hallmarks of being an undead person. Not all of us actually rise from the grave. I can't imagine what that experience would be like. It was strange enough waking up naked on coroners table. At least I wasn't in some box, buried six feet in the earth. It doesn't immediately dawn on you that you are not entirely deceased. It takes a little while to figure it out. It takes some a day or two, and others find out as soon as they walk in the door trying to tell their families that they're ok (they always assume someone must be looking for them because they've been kidnapped or something). They are not usually received very well. I can only imagine that going through burying a relative or loved one who shows up on the doorstep a few days later would be somewhat traumatic, to say the least. The ones who've actually been buried and then come back, well, they're a little jumpy and suspicious. Then again, some of them are real assholes and somebody was probably wasting no time trying to get them in the ground. They probably should be jumpy and suspicious.

Anyway, I've been thinking about converting to Christianity. Before my rebirth, I wasn't particularly a fan of religion. But since, I've come to believe that Christianity had to have been started by a Not Entirely Deceased person. I mean think about it, this is my flesh for you to eat, this is my blood for you to drink, healing lepers, all of that stuff. Leprosy isn't a problem when you're dead. It's amazing it never dawned on me. I think the whole thing is actually for the Not Entirely Deceased, and all of you warm bloods got hold of it and screwed it all up. This is not surprising considering the degree to which you screw most things up. But this one thing, just this thing seems to have been completely put together with us deaders in mind, and you screwed it all up. Fuck you very much.

I'm not exactly sure of the nature of difference between all the varieties of Christianity. I've never really much cared. They were all just this side of barking at the moon as far as I was concerned. Looking at the conduct of so many who consider themselves religious, you can't really deny this assessment. That is, until you consider the possibility that all of these warm bloods have been running around trying to fit into something which was never meant for them in the first place. It was meant for us. We're the ones who know all about rising from the dead. You people could not possibly understand the pain of it. In other words, we can probably identify with Jesus better than you sorry fools can anyway. We know the pain of dying. We know the confusion and disorientation of waking up, dead. Maybe that's where we come from in the first place. Maybe all of you loonies running around screaming about being the chosen ones have missed the point entirely. Think about it, promises of everlasting life? We've got it. Promises of never having to fear pain or death anymore? We've got it. Yeah, I'm pretty far on my way to becoming positive we're the ones who've been chosen by God, and you poor suckers have to suffer the rest of your lives with the question of whether or not you're going to make it to the Not Entirely Deceased category. Considering the absolutely flawless job you've done with making a mockery of human history, I say, "Suffer bitches. Suffer."

I believe it is my calling to become the first Bishop of the Church of the Not Entirely Deceased. I'm thinking about a trip to Rome too. I've got to see the Pope, and get as close as I can. I've got to find out for myself whether or not he's one of us. I'm thinking there's a good possibility.

I wonder if there's some kind of super secret Order of the Not Entirely Deceased. Maybe that's what the real Illuminati is, and all of those fools running around whispering to each other about some kind of religious conspiracy are right about the super secret thing, but have missed the rest of it in total. Dan Brown would look like a real jack ass then wouldn't he? Well, maybe no one would ever have that horrific piece of shit, which can only be called a film in the loosest sense, perpetrated on their person again. Tom Hanks is definitely not one of us. No self respecting Not Entirely Deceased would have gone anywhere near that shit box. Sorry Tom, maybe someday though. If some secret order does exist, it would be pretty cool to be able to become some kind of zombie soldier for God. I haven't got anything else to do, and I seem to have all the time in the world to do not much of anything. I still go to work, but I'm not sure how long that's going to last. People are going to start wondering what's going on at some point. I've been claiming a skin disorder, but they're going to realize at some point that I've put no insurance claim in for doctors visits. I wonder if I'd get to eat God's enemies, and whether they'd give me indigestion. Gas problems seem to be pretty common among the Not Entirely Deceased as well.

Being a zombie soldier in the army of God would certainly give new meaning to the term "conversion" also. I mean, do I get to just go out and bite people who I think need to be saved? It could be fun. It could also end up with the villagers storming my building with torches and pitchforks too. I'm going to have to talk to some of the others about this. Some of them have been dead... Not Entirely Deceased longer than I have and they've got more experience with staying under the radar.

On a good note, on of my new Not Entirely Deceased friends brought me a turkey for Christmas. It was a really nice gesture, and I appreciate it, but the thing stinks to high heaven and it keeps shitting all over the place. I don't think I can wait for Christmas. I think I'm going to chow down on that big bastard tonight. I've found I have a real taste for feathers. They're kind of like whip cream for the Not Entirely Dead. They're all light and no substance tasty. Bird feet are kind of like what I remember beef jerky being like, and they're good to have around for that afternoon craving. He's got some good sized feet on him too, they may last a good while.

So, merry Christmas to all of you. And remember when you sit down to your Christmas dinner with your families that you're celebrating the birth of the man who became the most famous zombie in history, and that you are far inferior to those chosen ones whom he died and was resurrected specifically for. Meaning, US and NOT YOU!