After a trying week of fighting yet another bout of Tonsillitis (which, may I add, is being fought like a man) there was to be a silver lining to an endless sky of clouds, the return of The Walking Dead.
There is something spiritually soothing about watching a desperate group of men and women trying to survive all the trials and tribulations of a zombie apocalypse. My wife has mentioned her interest in watching the show but can’t bring herself to endure the “anxiety” that comes with it. Sure, The Walking Dead is of the horror variety and some of the “walkers” can be quite horrific, but no more horrific than real life. The moment a walker stumbles into the town of Alexandria clutching Rick and Co.’s overdue energy bills, is the moment I will truly have sleepless nights.
Who am I kidding, as my wife will testify, Glenn’s “death” was taken hard in our household, and when I say the household, I mean by me. There were moments during that fateful day and many days beyond that too, where my wife would find me gazing off into space with my eyes welling up. I began to retreat within myself, questioning everything I had just witnessed, I couldn’t even bring myself to have second breakfast. My wife was very concerned, she could see something was wrong and kept pressing me to open up to her. It took me a while, but eventually I needed a shoulder to cry on.
“It’s Glenn!” I exclaimed, finally looking to her for a comforting embrace.
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” she responded. “You need to get a grip,” These were not the supportive words I had been hoping for, in fact I do believe the word “pathetic” still rings in my ears to this day. It’s safe to say that there are members of the cast that I have grown an emotional attachment to, which I’ve come to realise over the series is a dangerous thing. At this point I refuse to even learn a characters name until they’ve appeared in at least two consecutive seasons.
Watching The Walking Dead has taught me many things over the years, not least, that’s It’s okay for a confident heterosexual to be questioning said sexuality over a greasy redneck, who to this day,still can’t find a sleeved shirt in all the chaos. Over the course of six seasons I have witnessed Daryl Dixon evolve from cousin-fucker to bad ass mother-fucker, the entire zombie apocalypse has been the making of him.
I often look at myself and wonder how I would cope in that world. I have all the theory worked out in my head, it seems I have put years of work into this zombie survival plan. Every contingency I can think of has been taken into account and well rehearsed. I’m ready. The reality? I have all the arm strength of an anorexic girl scout. I would have more luck selling a zombie some Thin Mint Cookies than I would bludgeoning one with a baseball bat. Watching me take on a zombie would be like watching a tame production of Punch and Judy. Where I’d like to see myself as a skilful leader like Rick during the apocalypse, I would sadly be more like the bumbling Eugene. Unfortunately though, even locking picking isn’t part of my skill set.
As terrifying and deadly as the walkers may be, there are bigger dangers posed by other survivors. To survive in their world you either have to be very lucky or extremely brutal. It’s all about survival of the fittest. With Negan ready to make his first appearance, things are only about to get worse for our group of survivors. Our hero’s antagonists are always the kind of people who would have watched Fox News or read The Sun newspaper for “The Facts” Honestly, five minutes with either is like giving yourself a Lobotomy.
I predict a major death coming this second half to the season. As the producers seem to work on a “one in-one out” policy regarding ethnic minorities, I believe Glenn should be safe until a new
Chinese Korean character is introduced. I should have realised this when they filmed his apparent death, it would have saved me a lot of heartache. At least now I can sleep easy, knowing he’ll be at Maggie’s side when she dies during childbirth.
The mid season premier was a welcome return for The Walking Dead. For me at least. My wife on the other hand, had very negative feelings towards the return. “Oh great, I don’t exist for the next two months,” which I thought was a little unfair. The idea that I would ignore my wonderful wife for a whole two months is preposterous… Just Mondays.
Picking up where we had left off before the break, it seems for now that our hero’s have pulled themselves from the frying pan. There were welcome deaths and a couple of close shaves but the group now seems back to its full strength. Who knows what the future has in store for our hero’s, if you’ve read the comics you may have a vague idea. Whatever it is I’ll still be watching, dreading the day the writers take someone near and dear away from me. At least I have a shoulder to cry on…