Walking Binge


So I’ve been binge watching the whole Walking Dead series, blasting through four seasons in four nights.  I was late to the game, even after hearing rave reviews about it, and even after investing all this time in it, I’m still not sure how much I like it  In case you have somehow missed this, it’s a bunch of people scrambling around the backwoods of Georgia, trying to stay out of the way of invading zombies.  That’s it.  That’s the whole show.  I’ve watched 80 something hours and can report that’s all there is.  The lead, Andrew Lincoln, is borderline terrible with only one emotion, if tortured angst can be called an emotion.  His character is the leader and he leads by making these arbitrary and idiotic decisions and insisting on sticking by them as the others protest and then, at the last moment, changes his mind.  Not because of the sensible arguments his followers have made, but because swerves are so darn dramatic.  Swerve.  Swerve. swerveswerveswerve.

The makeup department deserves kudos for creating authentic looking sweaty, grimy apocalypse survivors.  I always want to bathe after watching them.  And really finely crafted zombies.  Nobody can crank out rotting corpses like these guys can.  I suppose it’s out of respect to their hard work that the show leaves the dead zombies (deader zombies?) that the heroes kill (rekill? whatever) lying around.  Maybe it’s just my fussy neatness, but if I was surviving a zombie attack, I’d want to sweep up that mess afterwards.  Tidy the place up.

Anyway, I’m off the whole thing now because it turns out my cable service has a limit on how much you can rent in a month.  That’s right, I’ve been cut off.  What, do they think I have a problem? That I’m some kind of On Demand junkie?  Is this an intervention?  And I had just got up to the cannibals.



What would you do if this was an attacking zombie? Would you stab him in the head like you’re supposed to? Or would you trip him and then think about to do next?

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

11 responses »

  1. If that were to come through my door, I’d lie down, and let him devour me, then stab me! As long as he didn’t make a mess of course.


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