I so do not get zombies.
Let's be clear; when I speak of vampires and zombies, in the case of the former I'm talking the classic variety -- the aristocracy of the undead, as it were. Zombies, on the other desiccated claw, are definitely the lumpenproletariat; the working-class dead. Oscar Wilde, whose brain has been dust in an empty skull for 113 years, is still capable of dryer wit.
Zombies' fashion sense is to die: quite simply. there's not much else to say about flyblown monsters whose concept of haute couture is wearing someone else's guts for garters, rather than their own. I'm by no means saying it's necessary to don white tie, opera cloak and neck award every time one leaves the coffin in search of a bite to drink, but on the whole I think dressing to kill does lend a certain gravitas to lines such as "The blood is the life." Whereas lines such as "Send more paramedics" and similiar favored bon mots of the Maggot Mafia don't exactly reek of gravitas; if anything they reek of anti-gravitas. It's hard to believe that they can both be legitimately subsumed under the subtitle of Homo moribundis.
