Zombie Babies and Boneshakers: A Rambling, Shambling Sort Of Post

Cover of "Boneshaker (Sci Fi Essential Bo...

Cover of Boneshaker (Sci Fi Essential Books)

I’m sitting here pondering zombie infants.  You just don’t see them that often.

I suppose they are small and they don’t eat that much thereby not drawing much attention.  On the other hand, they could air drop atop your head from up a Weeping Willow.  They are sneaky.

At what stage of gestation would a zombie baby have enough personal zombie drive to eat its way out?

Like  you weren’t wondering exactly that.

When I went to Vegas last month (to do my version of Temporary Zombie-sanity), I picked up a book at the airport.

Yes, an actual book.  Even lugging around multiple devices with e-readers, I still wandered through the bookstore at the airport.  I do this to kill time.  I also do it because I enjoy the experience.  It calms me.  There is no time a body needs calming these days like just after getting a body cavity search.

Granted, a Hudson News or generic equivalent is an undead zombie version of an actual, modern Giant Box Bookstore.  All of those went extinct years ago, but you can find pictures if you google.

It certainly is nothing resembling a good ‘ol fashioned book seller.  However, the books are there.  The smell is still the smell of books.  All crisp and full of promise, with glorious looking covers standing row upon row.  Shining under the harsh news store lighting.  You can tell things about the world by looking at that best seller rack.

I ended up grabbing a couple of books.  One there.  One back.

“Boneshaker” by Cherie Priest caught my eye.  It had all the hallmarks of something I might avoid.  However, I was really feeling the sepia tones of the cover.  Plus, it had things I have always had fond dreams of: Seattle in rubble, undead, airship pirates, and shadowy Foreigners.  Not to mention an author that mangled time, space and geography itself to make her story work.  I respect the shit out of that.  Accuracy is for assholes and nonfiction.

I’m sure all of you know the book and the author.  I live in a cave that doesn’t include steam or punk.  Well, no steam anyway.  So, what did I know from Cherie?

Nothing.  I take the book’s presence in the previously mentioned undead bookstore to be a solid indicator of its General Appeal.

General Appeal being who she is (go check out Goodreads top books of all time list…now that’s some scary stuff), I was tempted to let my brain talk me out of it .  My finer nature won out.  A good decision in this instance.  “Boneshaker” was a great, fun read.

I’m no purist.  I don’t require a certain shamble speed or some other bullshit explanation of what a zombie must be.  Priest delivered me something interesting in the zombie vein.  It came from below, as it were.

What we get is the gas-blighted world of “Boneshaker” and the main characters’ struggles in a ruined Seattle made of what was and what might have been.  All dirty and grimy, suffocating and deadly with a sharp wit and a tiny bit of tenderness (awww, cue the I-cats).    ..right in the gut, where that old coot shivved you when you dozed off.

Man that stings.  Why you gotta?

Now, about those zombie fetuses.

They are out there!

Zombie Babies

I’m not sure I want them anymore.

In fact, they seem to be everywhere.  Perhaps I wasn’t paying attention.  Now that my gaze has turned to zombie babies, I will see them everywhere.  This might not be all it’s cracked up to be.

I’m just not counting this.  I just won’t.  Maybe it’s not too late for you.  Unfortunately, I can’t unwatch this.

Zombie Babies are so rampant that they have their own series of YouTube videos.

I’m going to take a trip into the way back machine and call that creepy kid from Pet Cemetery my favorite zombie baby.  Sure, maybe he is a little old to be called a baby, but he sure acted like one.  What a whiney little shit.  And perhaps.  Just perhaps, he wasn’t a proper zombie.  I don’t care.  I still have a soft spot for that creep.  He’s just adorable when he’s wielding a scalpel in his wee, undead fist.

Isn't little Gage, cute? He wants to play with you!

Nevertheless, if he isn’t careful, this flying zombie baby might give little Gage Creed a run for the Top Zombie Baby spot in my heart.

For the curious, my return trip choice was “Agent Zigzag.”  Good stuff.

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About I.M. Pangs

digital verbal smog creator improbablefrontiers.com
This entry was posted in Film, Literature and Entertainment and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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