(Some of you may remember that I posted on this a year ago, but since then zombie disease has continued to proliferate, so I felt the need to post again.)

A couple of days ago I was out for an evening walk on one of Bellingham’s many trails. The sunset was beautiful, the air was that perfect temperature and humidity that feels soft on bare skin, birds were flitting from tree to tree, blackberries were tantalizingly ripe alongside the trail.

Two small girls, about four and six years old, passed me and skipped happily down the trail. Then I ran into an older woman and a girl about 12 or so, presumably the mother and sister of the younger kids. They had become paralyzed, blocking the trail completely, eyes glued to their cell phones. They didn’t notice the younger ones had run off, or that I was standing in front of them waiting for them to move so I could proceed.

two boys use cell phones

The young are especially vulnerable to zombie phone disease.

Cell phone zombies. I was saddened to see that this family, who had probably intended to get out and enjoy the evening in nature, had been struck down in mid-walk by this raging epidemic.

No matter where I am these days—in the grocery store, riding my bike through the local park, driving to the library—I see mesmerized humans. Head bent over a cell phone, the infected person is totally oblivious to other people, cars, wandering deer, fire engines, rampaging pit bulls—in short, anything that is happening in the real world flowing around the paralyzed victim.

deer

Cell phone zombies don’t even see me.

Yes, the zombie apocalypse is real. And it is spreading like wildfire, through smart phones.

In its final stages, the zombie becomes totally fixated and can be confined in a closet or other small space, requiring only a charging cord attached to the cell phone clasped permanently in hand; sadly, nothing other than the sight of a phone screen will register in the victim’s brain.

Don’t let this happen to someone you love.

Many don’t realize that the zombie phone disease can be cured if caught in its early stages. All one has to do is occasionally turn off the cell phone. In many cases, the brain can heal itself by experiencing—this includes seeing, hearing, smelling, touching—actual physical surroundings.

 

Bridge below Table Mountain, North Cascades

Bridge below Table Mountain, North Cascades

I have become a crusader against zombie phone disease, venturing into the wilderness unplugged. This does limit my circle of friends, but it’s a sacrifice one must make to fight the apocalypse. Social media zombies in the wild are prone to walking off cliffs or being devoured by packs of unnoticed wolves, so when I lead a hike or go camping or kayaking with friends, I now demand that cell phone usage be reserved only for taking photos or for emergencies. It’s tough love.

You don’t have to brave the wilderness to rescue yourself or a loved one. Just turn off the cell phone.

Sunset from Clarke Island - photo by Ian Conarch

Sunset from Clark Island – photo by Ian Conarch

Those of you who are old enough may recall activities you used to enjoy before the apocalypse struck. Go to a concert, take a dance class, have a beer with friends. Look around. Talk to people who are physically present.

You can save yourself. You can save your loved ones. I urge you to act now, while there is still time to stop the zombie apocalypse.

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