I know that zombie culture is a thing, that in pop culture they signify our fears, dystopia, sense of future worry.
But personally I just don’t find them interesting. They are pretty one-dimensional (by design?), they likely are never developed as characters, and they always lose.
This was meant more as a conversational poke, not a criticism
Sorry, but zombies bore me
— Alan Levine (@cogdog) June 19, 2014
in response to several of my colleagues actively promoting Twitters Vs Zombies (v4). I encourage you to participate, it is definitely a fascinating exercise in using social media in a storymaking sense, and has the vivid elements of live action.
I played the first round in November 2011. Well, I signed up, but did not fully read the rules (note to self and others, you have to know the game). I was traveling in 2011, and actually enjoying a dinner at my sister’s house in Maryland when I was bitten and died… like within the first 5 minutes of the game.
So I tried to game the game by subverting the storyline, issuing a Zombie Peace Proposal. It played out, and people explored it, and rejected the peace plan. That was fun.
I am pretty sure I played the following year, and perhaps lasted a bit longer. But again, I was a zombie dog pretty quick.
When I say that “zombies bore me” –it’s not a criticism of what Jesse Stommel and Pete Rorabaugh have stepped up and amplified every year. It’s a fascinating concept (read more from Jesse). It gets people to understand how twitter works, not from some listicle edugush puff piece, but by living it.
The experiences of Karen Young cannot be understated enough as to the impact of this TvsZ.
And it’s fine that my good friends want me to play, but we also make our choices where to put our energy…
— Mariana Funes ?? (@mdvfunes) June 19, 2014
… and my heart is not much in biting and such via twitter. I’ve done that. Maybe I am sour because of my poor performances.
But zombies are in fact a place holder for things that perhaps we fervently support and try to spread in technology and education because of our own positive experiences in that space. Maybe it is OERs or clickers or LMSes or Google Glass. We want others to have a similar experience and spread the joy/love.
Zombies in this case are not lumbering slow moving gruesome freaks looking to eat your brains, they are just that thing we get so focused on that we stop looking beyond it. Much.
I am guilty myself of my own zombies- blogs– ds106 (yes, Stephen we know its a cult) — WordPress… Yeah WordPress, it’s been the core of my technology energy the last 6-7 years. Not 100% but close. Maybe I am zombielike in my WordPress world view. It’s like Borace Mann pointed out in a tweet conversation yesterday, am I a LAMP zombie?
@dajbelshaw think y’all should focus more on post-LAMP stack infrastructure. Lots of ways to self-host, too.
— Boris Mann (@bmann) June 18, 2014
His post on this from two years ago has rattled around my head, but I just keep biting the LAMP.
At least I know I have my zombies.
We all have our personal zombies.
And its not a bad thing to have something we want to promote and share and engage others in.
But here is my own takeaway, for all the things I am
Just thinking about this has been a poke at least to have a sense of respect when people try my zombies and walk away without the same fervor. It’s okay if you allow yourself to be bit, and make the choice not to go further. Not everyone is excited about your fascinating zombie.
But don’t be a lumbering zombie and take me for knowing anything, get out there and form your own experiences
Very likely you will not be bored.
What’s in your zombie?
PostScript (because there is always more…. The germ for this post also wrapped within David Mitchell’s book I was reading on the porch:
Mitchell's writing has me drawn in deep. Parents squabble over backdrop of Falklands war– "Pyrrhic victories" http://t.co/PafXE5Hgf8
— Alan Levine (@cogdog) June 19, 2014
In the “rocks” chapter, as always, just when you thought Mitchell had tossed in enough twists and double backs, there’s one more jabbed in the closing sentence (Moby is the newly installed koi fish in the rockery pond Mum wanted and Dad didn’t)
Mum’s staring at the heron, as it shrinks into the lost blue.
Moby’s flipping in the Day of Judgement light.
Dad watches through the kitchen window. Dad isn’t laughing. He’s won.
Me, I want to bloody kick this moronic bloody world in the bloody teeth over and over til it bloody understands that not hurting people is ten bloody thousand times more bloody important than being right.