I’ve been trying to understand the appeal of zombieism — it does, after all, seem to be gaining in popularity. Is it simply a fad? Once the flakes start to fall will they just slow down and freeze, or will they have enough brains to wear parkas?

That just-feasted-on-your-hippocampus look doesn’t do much to protect you from the ravages of a Toronto winter.

Not that I’m against skimpily-clad zombies, per se, but it just seems like a very limited-time sort of deal.

Then I came to the realization that the whole march is an early Halloween for big kids. You know, being cool and undead and all, they do it a couple of weeks before the tykes, but the concept is basically the same.

I don’t see a need to dig into any deep sociological theory. Seems pretty self-evident.

Having said that, I don’t want to be taken in the wrong way here. If this is what yanks your chain then, hey, by all means indulge in a little brain. To me, the appeal of autumn is a much more holistic experience; zombies are simply a part of the larger picture inhabited by unshaven werewolves, toilet paper mummies, ghostly sheets, teenagers dressed as … teenagers, shabby plastic Scooby Doos, and so on.

But you have to give some of them points for effort. It’s one thing to smear a little blood on your face but a genuine zombie really needs to up their game to be taken seriously. Being dead has the advantage of being able to do all sorts of fucked up shit to your face, so that’s where originality comes in.

Then, at the end it’s a big old party in the park where everyone gets a t-shirt and does a spooky boogie. This is not unlike getting a grab bag at a Halloween party and then doing a nervous jerky jig when the party music starts.

At the end of the day, zombies put their pants on one leg at a time like you or me. Well, I sometimes do both at the same time, but that’s probably not relevant. Someone who willingly engages in zombieism simply has a nostalgia for when they were younger, when Halloween was about real spooky stuff, when they were alive. I myself maintain my tenuous sanity through a web of partial memories and nostalgic fragments, so who am I to judge?

I say live and let stay dead.

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Yup, season’s fully turning now; a fantastic, cold, autumn fog is rolling over the evening city as I write this; leaves are half-shorn and fully gilded; sun’s setting at around 6, to me the most obvious time for evening to start; squirrel’s are getting pudgy; zombies are back on Toronto streets.

The annual walk is now getting between 5,000 to 6,000 zombies and they were tagged as participants for the first time this year. Before this it was just first-come-first-brains.

It was still a pretty casual, slow-moving and cumbersome affair so the new formality was mostly pointless. Toward the end, all sorts of individuals were joining in unhindered.

But mostly it was non-celebrity zombies.

The walk started in Trinity-Bellwoods Park but unlike last year terminus at Bathurst Subway Station, it continued west on Dundas toward Christie Pits — quite a ways to be dragging the old carcass around without any refreshments.

As usual, the route wound through Kensington Market where the group met with some resistance.

Generally, however, the people of Toronto were welcoming to the undead; you’d be surprised how many (in)famous people have joined their ranks!

Perhaps even more significant is the number of normals that swelled the crowd this year. You know, your standard workaday brainless slob.

I make no pretense of understanding the aim of this march. Every year it’s the same rallying cry: “What do we want?! Brains!! When do we want ‘em?! Brains!!”

Interacting with the zombies is generally pointless. Unless you’ve got a meaty cerebellum on you, it’s really tough to get their attention. And then, of course, they never look you in the eye when you’re having a conversation anyway, do they?

Continued in next part…

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So where did I leave off yesterday? Oh yes, the zombies had me surrounded and I’d run out of people to toss in their path. The situation was getting really ugly:

The great discovery happened when I pulled out my camera and started to take photos. I figured I could record my final few moments for TCL; become the first post-mortem blogger — I believe that would make for interesting content. But it wasn’t to be.

You see, it seems that zombies actually like to have their photos taken. Anyone in the crowd who happened to be brandishing a camera was given a wide berth and, often, cooperative smiles (or menacing grimaces – whatever the scene called for):

And I feel that branding them all as brain-hungry murderers really isn’t representative of the zombie population. Being undead, apparently, isn’t enough to stave off the requirements of the workaday world, but the zombies seemed to take it all in stride. If it wasn’t for the homicidal tendency of ingesting live human brains, they’d probably make decent citizens.

Haha! *insert social commentary here*

Speaking of commentary, who’s tailing the wag here?

That’s a little slice of a-okay, isn’t it? :D

Basically, there was a very good chance that most of the non-zombie participants in the walk would have made it out had I not panicked. But like the army used to say, “gullibility costs lives”, which would’ve been especially poignant had I actually said it to someone before pushing them into the flesh-eating crowd. Or if that were a real army slogan. Or if it applied in any way.

“Hmmm. No, you may not hide behind me and my camera. Go buy your own protective gear, cheap-ass!” *shove*

I did what I had to do to survive.

Eventually, I came to the conclusion that unprovoked, the zombies really just want to walk around complaining loudly about a lack of dietary cerebellum. That’s pretty much it. Only if you shove people into the throng will you get a reaction.

But, you know, I did what I had to do to survive. I’m not saying I’m proud of it.

Haha! Watching people turn into zombies is awesome though! The first symptom of zombiedom is a total loss of memory. Well, yeah. No brain!

“That’s right, fella, you’re with the rest of them! Yeah, good brains to you too!”

*yoink!*

And now I move in style :D

And sometimes you just need to direct the zombie’s attention away just because it’s kinda gross. Take the next gal (“that’s a girl in there?!”, someone exclaimed), for example:

Yeah, the “hands” are pretty creepy, and then there’s the chicken on the head. No thanks. Shove a sacrifice thataway and the zombie follows. It’s all about keeping it simple, effective, to the point. And grabbing the wallet before she gets her highly impractical “hands” on him.

Anyhow, the denouement of this story is a bit of a snooze so I won’t bore you with it. Needless to say, camera and hapless strangers helped to ease the journey until I eventually found myself outside the pack, and stumbled wearily back home.

But I don’t want to leave you with a totally bad impression; the undead population includes some interesting personalities so at least one of them was bound to show up at some point:

There you have it, a Halloween tale to scare the pants off your friends. The attractive ones. And for that extra depantsing kick, you can tell them that most of it really happened! And for a small fee, I can even corroborate your presence in this tightly-woven, explosive narrative. That’s guaranteed pantlessness!

You know how to get a hold of me.

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Every year they keep demanding brains (like that’s gonna happen!) and better severance.

One of the things that shocked me about the whole thing was how punctual the zombies were. These days I’ve come to expect events starting thirty minutes to an hour late. But on Saturday, the undead were off and moving at 3:30 sharp.

Also shocking is the size of the demonstration, not to mention the aggressiveness of the group:

I only escaped unharmed because of one amazing fact. That I will share with you tomorrow. You see, the march was so prolific, I simply have no choice but to milk it for two whole posts. Besides, some of the zombies put so much effort into the event, I feel it’s only fair to give them a little air time:

One guess as to what this fellow was demonstrating for. Yup, brains. I don’t get it, are they that tasty?

They probably have no idea what they really want. I mean, they pick their leader based on who’s got an extra appendage:

What I found particularly interesting was that while zombies don’t have the wherewithal or the sense to eat infants in a civilized manner, they nonetheless possess the forethought to pack an umbrella for the impending rain:

You may be thinking that I escaped this terrible occasion because of the security forces attending the route. Haha! Wow, you’re so wrong. The security forces were useless. When they managed to hit their targets, it wasn’t in the head, so the zombies just got back up and kept on going. In fact, I don’t think the personnel were shooting anything by the number of zombies they managed to kill: zero!

Perched snipers seemed to have the same problem, and many of the security weren’t even armed. And the posts they gave them to guard … who thought of that?!

This guy managed to stand his ground for a little while. He beat down the first zombie that managed to climb up and then, wisely, decided to ditch his post:

He jumped into a nearby dumpster which proved to be even less effective in protecting against zombies. And they want his brains?

In the end he managed to rip free from their clutches and beat a hasty retreat around the corner of the building yelling, “28 days later!”

And then, the few civvies left were alone in a sea of zombies. We pushed through the crowd with whatever we could. Just when I thought I’d run out of compatriots to shove into the straining arms of the hordes, I discovered something incredible.

Tomorrow, the amazing tale of how I managed to preserve my voluminous brain; the secret to keeping zombies off you. You’re not gonna wanna miss it!

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