Food & the Digestive Process
In a zombie, the physical
digestive process is no longer an issue, and our cells
aren't going to do much with the molecules in the food.
But we do need to take in organic matter, because it
contains the life-energy we need to maintain the
cross-planar circuit. A zombie who doesn't eat
energy-filled meat -- preferably human -- will gradually
devolve mentally to the point where only survival
matters. We won't starve to death and expire; we just get
crazier and more dangerous to the people around us until
the energy is replenished. New zombies need more energy than those of
us who have a well-established connection between the
planes, but in order to keep our consciousness grounded
on this material plane, we all need to take in
energy of similar frequencies; i.e., live members of the
same species. (Thus a zombie chicken would, naturally,
eat other chickens. I haven't seen that movie
yet, though I'll be first in line when it comes out.)
The newly-undead are
unstable energy channels, and their circuits fluctuate
wildly. They're always hungry, and that's where the movie
industry always comes in. All you get to see on the
silver screen while you chomp popcorn are thousands of
newborns who haven't developed to the Cerebric level and
are still throwing off their energy all over the place.
This is gross misrepresentation.
Once a zombie regains his
or her memories and emotions, the hunger lessens
significantly (though it never quite goes away). Some
think this is simply a biological effect of the circuit
steadying itself, but others (myself included) believe
that the return of the memories and emotions has a lot to
do with it, too. You tend to learn to make do with less
food when eating becomes a spiritual and moral trauma.
BRAAAAAAAIIIINS!!!
Despite some recent filmmakers' fascination with
zombies who dine exclusively on brains, we can obtain
the life energy we need from any body part. Brains do
contain stronger energy than the other cuts, but
anything will do, really.
Luckily, as we discussed
in the "Decomposition" section, a very fresh
corpse still has some life-energy in its tissues, and
this will give a hungry zombie enough to get by for
while. (Do you ever hear about that in the
movies? Nooooooo.) Though that means more
frequent feedings, it's better than chomping on our
neighbors every day. Be vigilant, take advantage of every
opportunity, and when you feel the need coming on, hang
out at accident-prone places. Lots of us volunteer at
local hospitals. All the same, I still have to have a
decent (living) meal once or twice a decade.
Liquids are another
important part of your new diet. Drink your water. This
will help keep your insides clean and lubricated. Drink
your water. Zombies, understandably, have problems with
dehydration. Drink your water. It's no fun to put up with
stiff, sore joints and muscles, and you've got enough
skin problems now without worrying about that icky
sagging. It helps you move the solid food through your
system, too. Drink your water. (And when I say
"water", I mean water. Don't over-clog
your system with the big globs of sugary crap found in
sweetened drinks. My god, I sound like my mother.)
What
About Cheeseburgers and Pie?
By all means! Living people don't limit themselves to
just the food that their body needs; why
should we deprive ourselves of culinary
indulgences?
(Just as long as you
drink enough water to dilute the big particles.)
And eating
"normal" food is good for something besides
pleasure, too: as bacteria decomposes the food in
your stomach, the heat it gives off helps keep you
all warm and toasty from the inside out.
Just don't over-do it,
or you'll end up spending a lot of time...
Going
to the Bathroom
Oh, come on. Do we need to get into
this?
All
right, I guess we do. The elimination of waste
materials is just as important for zombies as it is
for everyone else. But now that your muscles will no
longer operate without a conscious order from your
brain, you'll have to learn to move your food out of
your stomach and through your intestines on your own.
(Talk about "muscles you never knew you
had".) I won't go into details -- after all, I
wouldn't want to ruin all of the fun
surprises in store for you -- but trust me, you'll
figure it out.
Don't
forget to flush.
Maintenance
Prime
the Pump
Your heart won't beat on its own
anymore, but it's still a good idea to rev the ol'
engine yourself several times a day. This moves the
blood (or whatever) through your veins, arteries and
capillaries, so that it doesn't start to pool and
cause bruises or weird jiggly "bags" under
your skin and within your other tissues. More than
just looking and feeling weird, these bags contribute
to stiffness and muscle pains if you don't take care
of them. Beating your heart keeps the blood vessels
clean and evenly distributes the liquid inside your
body.
When
you were alive, your blood cells would
"grab" molecules of nutrients -- oxygen and
food -- from your lungs and digestive system, and
carry them to wherever the body needed to put them.
Then it would carry waste materials away from the
same areas so that your body could dispose of them.
Obviously, your blood isn't going to do this very
well anymore. (And if you're full of embalming fluid
instead of blood, it's a lost cause.)
But
your innards are still permeable. Liquid, and small
molecules of solids, can get through the walls of
your intestines. Any gases you inhale will seep
through your lungs. Some of these materials will make
it into your blood vessels. So when you pump your
heart, the materials will still move through your
body. While this is often unnecessary, you do
have to get that water through your tissues, and
keeping the tubes clean in general is always a good
idea.
Keeping
It Together
One question I have to answer all the time is,
"Why aren't you rotting away?" This
demonstrates how little people know about modern
embalming procedures. (Another question I have to
answer a lot is, "Jee-sus-Christ! Will
you puh-lease go outside to eat
that?!") If your body was properly cared for in
the interim between death and reanimation, and if you
take the time to maintain yourself every day, further
decomposition is not nearly as big of problem as you
might expect.
Your embalming fluids
will have to be changed periodically. I completely
replace mine every six months or so. (Ian calls it my
semi-annual "flush-n-fill". Harrr-de-har,
Ian is sooo funny.)
The energy circuit is
a real advantage here. Studies have shown that among
live people, a good attitude goes a long way toward
maintaining good health, and healing any ailments the
body is suffering. It's the same thing with us, only
stronger and more consistent. Your life
force is coming from a plane where thought creates
reality. This kind of creative self-awareness is the
glue that will keep your tissues from eventually
dissolving into a putrid mass of muck.
Don't get your hopes
up -- you won't be able to twist the rest of
the world around, but your thoughts do have a lot of
influence over what goes on within whatever is left
of your own personal physical shell. However, that's
no excuse to ignore your regularly scheduled
maintenance.
Hair
& Skin Care:
No more acne problems, and the mosquitos
leave you completely alone!
Your
skin should be developing a nice, soft leathery
quality. You can help this along with daily
applications of leather-care oils. (No, don't eat
them! This is for the outside.) I like to
use a home-made ointment that consists of the
leather-care oils, human fat cells (we've all seen Fight
Club, right?), and special chemicals that help
to ease joint and muscle pain by sending
"pleasure" signals through the nerves that
start just under my skin. These neutralize the
"pain" signals from the problem areas. (Go
get your physics textbook and look up
"Destructive Interference".)
About
the hair...an old superstition has it that the hair
and fingernails keep growing after death. This is
pure bunk -- when a body dies, the skin dries out and
tightens up, and only makes it look like the
hair and fingernails have grown a bit. But after
reanimation, the hair and fingernails start growing
again.
Ian
and I hate to admit it, but we have yet to figure out
why this happens. I sure would have liked to be able
to stop shaving for good, but I guess that's a fair
price to pay for not going bald. Not a bad deal. It
probably has something to do with that crazy energy
circuit and the creation of your own personal
physical reality. I dunno. Ask Samson and Delilah.
Whatever, just clip your nails and take care of your
hair. This is ridiculous. I'm sure there are plenty
of other websites with handy beauty tips and
secrets that you'll find infinitely more helpful than
any that I feel like giving you. (Personally, I like
the baby shampoo with apple-scented conditioner.)
Injuries
("Send More Paramedics!")
As I mentioned
previously, zombies do feel pain. We also feel every
other physical sensation to a greater extent than
living people do. Since your central nervous system
got that reanimating jolt, it's constantly in a state
of hyper-awareness as the energy circuit between the
planes hums along. You'll get used to it, and you can
learn to ignore it most of the time. In some
situations, though, it's definitely a bonus. (See
below, "Sex".)
For the undead, major
injuries are a big inconvenience. Although your
energy will help maintain your body's cohesiveness,
and the self-awareness I mentioned above will help to
repair small wounds without too much trouble, your
skin and tissue cells do not mend themselves
and grow back together like they used to. Good news:
you can't bleed to death. Bad news: if you want that
broken leg to heal, or that arm to re-attach itself,
you have to have a surgeon put the tissues back in
order, and then you are just going to have
to concentrate.
You can turn
that mess back into useful tissue, but remember that
your body no longer performs any involuntary
functions. You have to make it heal. Healing
your undead body doesn't involve cellular
reproduction or replacement. It involves delving into
your subconscious, invoking your basic memories of
how that piece of your body usually looks
and behaves, and willing it back into wholeness. I
know, this sounds like more new-age hokum. But it
works. If you can accept the idea of self-actualized
zombies running around (and a surprising number of
people don't even want to think about it),
the fact that we can heal ourselves shouldn't be that
much of a leap.
Healing time depends
on how well you can concentrate. I broke my leg once
(and it's a very funny story, or so my
roommates assure me -- I don't remember much of what
happened after I swallowed the whole bottle of
codeine) and was able to recover completely in about
two weeks. I suggest you seek instruction in some
kind of meditation or other mental discipline to
enhance your self-healing skills.
Illness
You are now officially immune to almost every virus
that vexes the living, and if you keep your embalming
fluids fresh, most bacteria won't touch you, either.
You should get a job in the health industry.
But...(you
knew there would be a 'but', didn't you?)...but you
can still catch a damned cold. It's not fair,
is it?! Believe me, I'm working on this. The cold
virus is an insidious little varmint that can mutate
itself and adapt to anything, and its entire
purpose in life is to make organic material as
miserable as possible.
I hate
them. I hate them. I hate them.
Sleep
Living
people need to sleep every day. We don't. But we do need
to sleep once in awhile. While a live person sleeps,
their body is repairing and restoring itself. We can do
that without being unconscious. But the other reason for
sleep is to re-connect the mental and spiritual self with
the other-planar dimensions from which everyone (living
or dead) receives their life-forces. Sleep will help
strengthen your energy circuit. A zombie's sleep cycle is
much slower than a living person's, though. I tend to
pass out for about twelve hours at a time every three or
four days, and from what I can tell, this is pretty much
average. Oh, and the dreams are incredible!
You
probably don't have to worry about forgetting to sleep.
When your circuit starts getting fatigued, you'll know
about it. Go ahead -- try to push yourself too
far. Just see the astonishing array of amusing
pranks your roommates can think up when they find you
passed out on the kitchen floor in the middle of the day.
(And if it happens in public, you get to wake up in the
county morgue and say a big "howdy-do" to the
clueless attendant!)
If there's
an emergency, not to worry -- you sleep like the dead,
not the oblivious. Your friends can get you up
and moving if they really try.
Sex
Jymi: Oh,
this is so cute! He doesn't want to talk about
it now. He's all embarrassed. If zombies could blush,
he'd be red as a stop sign. Well, okay. As S'ferrin's
(live) girlfriend, I hereby declare myself to be an
honorary expert on zombie sex. As I understand it,
full-body hyperactive sensory nerve cells are a decided
plus.
So is total
conscious control over muscles and blood flow. (We're
talking hours.) And since he
doesn't have to breathe...
Thanks,
honey. I think they get the idea...
Jymi: ...and BIRTH
CONTROL IS NOW A NON-ISSUE!
Actually,
I can blush, if I work at it...
Jymi: ...speaking
of non-issues, get this: NO WET SPOTS!
Oh
my god.
Jymi: Ha, look at
him grinning. Anyway, be sure to keep lots of sock
puppets and squeaky chewtoys on hand --
OOOH-KAY!
MOVING RIGHT ALONG NOW...
Jymi: Com'mere,
you.
Oh...ahm...'scuze me, folks. Something just came up. 
Miscellaneous Bits o' Gristle
Bathing
Please do so. We don't sweat, but all that water
you're drinking (right?) is going to evenually
evaporate out of your tissues, leaving particles
behind on the outside your skin. This, combined with
the chemicals used in embalming, as well as the
remnants of your dining adventures, is going to cause
a smell. (Also -- still got your Physics
text out? Look up "condensation", too.)
If you were reanimated
soon enough after death, this embarrassing problem
can easily be overcome with a daily bath and some
nice cologne. If your dead body was decomposing for
awhile before you got back up, you might want to look
into subcutaneous injections of scent-neutralizing
chemicals...and bathing twice a day.
Brushing
Your Teeth
What do you eat? What do you
think your breath smells like? (I know you
don't breathe. But you blow air out when you speak,
right?) Go brush.
Drugs
Coffee? Check. Cigarettes? Check. Beer?
Check. I'm good to go.
Physiologically,
most recreational drugs work by affecting the nervous
system. And guess what? You're all nerves now!
Just like with food and water, you'll have to work a
little at moving the chemicals through your system,
but once you've got that down, hey, have at it. It's
not like you're going to OD or anything.
There
are some who would argue with this, and it's true
that chemical reactions in the body have a lot to do
with the effectiveness of drugs. Though an undead
body lacks most of those chemical reactions, I've got
two words for those naysayers: Placebo effect.
We can heal ourselves via the energy circuit and our
cellular memories of what our bodies are supposed
to be doing; we can mess ourselves up just as well.
But
please be careful. There's still the danger of
psychological addiction, and if your energy circuit
gets too accustomed to the influence (placebo or not)
of drugs, you can become "spiritually"
addicted. Besides that, a high zombie is still
high. You'll act just as much a fool as living people
do. Just because you don't have to worry
about injuries and overdoses anymore doesn't mean
that your live friends don't. Use common sense, be
considerate, and go have a damned good time.
Oh,
and the hangovers are a bitch. Drink your
water.
Exercise
Well, you thought you'd get out of this one, didn't
you? Sure, you can sit around on the couch for days
on end, gobbling cheezy-poofs and ding dongs, and
you're not going to gain an ounce of fat. That much
is true. Go ahead and try it. Wait 'till you find out
how much it hurts when you try to get up
again.
You've
got to keep those muscles and ligaments limber and
flexible, or you'll discover all kinds of fun in
Atrophy-Land. I can hear the screams from the Rigor
Mortis Coaster now.
I'm
not saying that you need to get out and run a mile a
day, or lift weights, or enter a decathalon or
anything like that. (Unless you want to. If
you're already athletically inclined, you'll have a
blast with your body's new endurance levels.) Just go
for a walk. Get up, get out of the crypt and go do
things.
Just
because you're undead is no excuse for not having a
life.
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