After weeks of waiting and gnashing teeth, AMC finally brought us back into a world where the dead refuse to stay dead and the living struggle daily to cling to that precious whatever that makes us human. To be honest, around the ZSC Command Center, we weren’t looking very human ourselves. Call it TWD withdrawals.
A brief recap before diving into the mid-season premiere: We left Rick and the gang in the midst of a pile of walkers with severe cranial leakage. Hershel and his family were aghast, watching how the others dealt with walkers. And the only hope for some of the survivors—in a tiny, innocent form—just met their final rest courtesy of Rick. Got that so far? Good.
The mid-season premiere picks up exactly where the previous episode left off. I know it may be wrong, but I got a bit smug being able to ask Hershel, “Still think they’re just sick after your wife attacked your daughter?” Yes, I talk to the television. Nevertheless, my main beef with Hershel came, not from his insistence in clinging to faith, but in his inability to look in the eyes of a walker and know that they aren’t human any more. Shane’s methods in forcing everyone to deal with this fact are faulty, but necessary.
I know I’m not the only parent that cringed at how matter-of-fact Carl became about what happened at the barn. He had one scene in the episode and it made a heck of an impact. Lori is right to be concerned about the coldness weaving into Carl’s childhood. However, she thinks Rick should be able to fix it by being there to do the hard things for him. In reality, Carl will still see everything his father does to protect the camp and want to be that person. He wants to be the cowboy hero. It could cause serious problems down the road.
On the parenting train of thought, I could not help but cry when Carol conveyed to Daryl and Lori how she planned to cope with her loss. It wasn’t a scene with ugly tears and a huge breakdown. It almost would have been more preferable to the controlled, calm way she spoke. That reining it in is what broke me. Her grim acceptance of fate took her to a different level where no one was sure how or if they could comfort her. Daryl, most of all, seemed hurt by the fact that he’d been denied that chance. In comforting her, he could have comforted himself and she left him out in the cold. Seeing where those two go after this will be interesting. He thinks he failed her and she’s lost her hope.
That anyone can contemplate finding love in the Zombiepocalypse seems ridiculous, right? Yet we have this wonderful love story building in the tangled vines of TWD. Glenn and Maggie are possibly the last bits of hope left on the show. Can their Romeo and Juliet love survive everything that is happening around them at the farm? She thinks so. He’s afraid. Not afraid of love, but what would happen if he lost her. Rick is right; he needs to tell her how he feels, despite the fear.
Time to address my least favorite subject, Shane. He is going to implode soon. Dale sees it and is well aware of what kind of man Shane really is under the hero façade he’s put on since rescuing Lori and Carl. How do we know it is a lie? Listen to what he says to Carol. Here is a woman that’s just suffered the greatest loss a woman can suffer and he only addresses her feelings once. The rest of that conversation is all “poor Shane”. Why doesn’t he get recognition for getting rid of all those nasty walkers in the barn? Wah, wah, wah… Dale called it. Unless Shane gets what he wants—Lori—he will probably kill again. Unfortunately by confronting him about it, Dale has put himself in Shane’s sights.
This episode was the death of hope for everyone. Hershel can no longer sit and pray that his wife to be cured. Carol won’t be able to console herself with thoughts that Sophia is safely tucked away in the woods, too afraid to find her way back to camp. Lori is stripped of the notion that Carl will not be forced to grow up too quickly. And Rick’s desperation to keep everyone safe takes a bullet to the brainpan. However, it is up to Rick and Hershel to face their families, those that rely on them… and lie through their teeth. They must create hope again. People cannot, will not continue to march down the long road unless there is a light at the end of the tunnel. For numerous survivors, not just our heroes, this hope manifests in Utopia-like areas where there is plenty of food, water, and supplies for them to create new homes. They don’t really exist, but gives people hope that somewhere out there safety is possible.
There were two OMG moments in this episode… which I can’t talk about without giving spoilers. Needless to say, they will make next week’s episode a must-watch.
What are your predictions for the next episode? Leave a comment and let us know.
5 AM in a bus terminal is somewhat like waking up to find yourself smack dab in the middle of the Zombiepocalypse. Rick Grimes, I sympathize with your plight. A handful of fellow travelers wandered into the station, bleary-eyed and looking more zombie than human. Heaven help me, I’ve waited with bated breath to hear them speak. Pretty sure the security guard wouldn’t have been too happy if I used one of the line posts to knock someone’s skull inside out.
Plus, it definitely wouldn’t be the ideal way to start my day. Just sayin’.
I learned my lesson after my last ZSC trip when I went to Dallas Comic Con. Suspect everyone. Has that guy across the way been watching as I report in to Juliette? The woman two seats down seemed awfully interested in what I’m writing… I should put my notebook away before anyone passing by reads. My cover cannot be compromised on this trip!
Noon in Los Angeles. The bus terminal was as busy as I’ve ever seen it. Contrary to what most would think, this is a good thing. I used the crowd to move around unseen by anyone that could be tracking me. It also bought me fifteen minutes to grab lunch. Actually, the salad ended up being breakfast. The ritual of eating poorly or rather, forgetting to eat at all during a con weekend began early.
Around 6 PM my fellow passengers on the bus got really talkative. The guys behind me leaned over and asked that question I dread, “So, where are you heading to?” Me being me, I tell them the truth. Don’t ask me why when I know the UGA could be after me. They’ve been too quiet. I don’t trust quiet . . . . Anyway, I told those around me about the ZSC and what we do. They ended up asking me questions until we arrived in Phoenix where an Amazon—the ZSC’s very own Jinxie G—rescued me.
Thursday:
Jinxie and I went to pick up the rental car. Due to complications, most of Thursday morning and afternoon have been censored . . . .
With Plan B fully checked out, we hit the road four hours behind schedule and with more than a few reservations about the new plan. That was until Jinxie pulled her wallet out to pay for something; a fortune she’d collected at a previous con a few months ago dangled off the bottom:
We took it as a sign to take the risk. Our nerves settled with some laughs and a ton of snarky commentary about bad cell phone reception in the desert, “Can you hear me now? No. You can’t. Because you didn’t drive into the middle of the desert to test your signal!”
The drive was fun, uneventful. We got within two hours of Albuquerque and decided to make a pit stop in what was probably the coldest city in New Mexico! Grants. Eleven degrees, snow on the ground, and Jinxie is wearing flip-flops. Though she did have toe socks on. In the minute it took to run inside the store, we froze. Two people who live in hot climates Do Not Do temperatures under thirty.
Don’t fret; we arrived at Cody and Alfred’s house in Albuquerque before becoming human Popcicles. Juliette arrived earlier that evening. The chaos was already underway as we shivered our way officially into the convention weekend.
Monday-the trip back to AZ:
No one will believe me if I say this, but Jinxie and I were up and on the road by about 10 AM. Shocking, right? Yeah, we didn’t believe it either. Of course, our main motivation ended up being hunting down coffee. But, hey, I won’t argue an early start. And it was a good thing we left early…
The mountain pass that we’d driven through just fine on Thursday transformed into a winter wonderland while we were at the con. We’re not talking a light dusting of snow. Oh no, it’d dropped a good three inches of snow with more coming down as we drove.
Did I mention that we drove THROUGH a cloud, as well? Yeah . . . that was special.
Eventually we started heading back down the mountain. Just like that the snow disappeared. There’s no UGA plot to blame for the random snowstorm, though I’m pretty sure some of the idiots passing us while we carefully drove over the mountain were UGA agents. Or suicidal . . . .
The rest of the trip back became a sightseeing fest since the sun set before I could see anything cool on our way to Albuquerque. By sightseeing I mean Jinxie would point out across the desert and say, “There’s a abandoned mine that way that’s good for disposing bodies and stolen cars. If you look down it in, you can see the pile of cars.” My reaction? Make a note of the location in case I’m in Arizona during the Zombiepocalypse. A girl can never have too many places to get rid of reeking zombie remains.
Tuesday and back to CA:
Very early that morning (by early, I mean before noon, accompanied by death glares from Jinxie), we headed to the bus station. This is the same bus station where last May I observed news reports covering the CDC’s post about preparing for the zombie outbreak. It is also where I determined that bus stations are the worse place to be trapped in when zombies shamble from their graves.
I said my goodbyes to Jinxie and took a moment to regroup. Traveling with a co-commander I can trust is far different than a busload of strangers. One particular stranger kept telling everyone to call him by a different name. I kept my eye on him until I switched buses halfway home.
The remainder of the ride back home was mostly uneventful with only one near miss. I almost disposed of a man after he sat behind me for hours making the most disgusting noises, noises I’ve come to associate with those that have become infected and are in the process of turning into a zombie. The smell didn’t help matters. It wasn’t until he started talking (loudly, I might add) that I stopped thinking about doing my duty as a ZSC commander… and started wishing I could dispose of him simply for being gross and annoying. What? I never claimed to be NICE after a week of travel and convention stress!
I made it home safe, sound, and without blood on my clothes. Another successful Zombie Survival Crew mission.
Albuquerque Comic Con set the bar pretty high for our 2012 convention season. Before I forget, we have to thank Jim, Cody, Alfred, and the small army of volunteers that took care of us during three very, very crazy days (and one very special 11-year-old girl who was Jinxie’s helper throughout the weekend). Without them, your brave commanders would’ve ended up hiding under a table or trying to melt snow to obtain drinking water.
Wait . . . snow?
Yes, you read that right. When Juliette, Jinxie, and I got to town, we were greeted by a sight very few of your commanders have seen lately—snow on the ground. There wasn’t much—or we’d probably have snowball fight pictures for the gallery—but there was enough to make it really cold. Thankfully, the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino stayed toasty warm over the course of the con.
On to the fun parts!
We invaded the Hard Rock Friday morning with Neil, Anthony, Noel G., and Madison Lintz. As soon as the tables were set, a sea of folks swept over the convention center. I’m not even sure how many people we talked to that day. There were a lot of them and they were all So Friggin’ Nice. The highlight of that afternoon came when Brent Spiner (Star Trek: The Next Generation) paid us a surprise visit. I’ll tell you right now, it is nearly impossible to render Jinxie and me speechless. He managed to do so by saying, “Hi.” Before you all groan and disown us, we did rally and had a nice little chat with him.
Friday night we learned the secret to turning Juliette into a giddy little girl (Jinxie side note: which was hysterical). No, I won’t divulge what did the trick. (Did you really think I would? She travels with a crossbow!) After we calmed her down, we hung out and met even more new folks including Daniel Gillies (The Vampire Diaries) and Rachael Leigh Cook (She’s All That). It seemed to be the theme for the weekend—meeting really awesome people. The secondary theme was not being able to keep Juliette in one spot for more than ten seconds.
What do you mean that’s normal? No one can have that much energy!
Saturday, the floodgates opened in the Hard Rock Hotel. You think I’m kidding, but at one point we couldn’t see anything across the hall from the ZSC/Walking Dead table. Except Waldo. He’s getting really bad at hiding these days. Juliette, however, is a pro at hiding and somehow managed to disappear before Lou Ferrigno (The Hulk) paid us a visit. No cha-cha this year.
When we weren’t communicating with potential ZSC members, we ambushed cosplayers. Twice on Saturday the tables were turned, forcing Jinxie and I to save Anthony from having his face chewed off by the undead. His survival training needs to be refreshed. Obviously he’s forgotten the difference between fans, crewmembers, and friggin’ zombies! The smell is the key, dude. Just sayin’.
On Sunday, it became impossible to tell which of us at the table were walkers, and which were zombie slayers. The general consensus was the universe didn’t contain enough coffee to keep us going. Then a strange thing happened, once the fans started coming in, their energy gave us a kick in the backside. If we haven’t said it before, I’m saying it now: we could not continue to survive long convention weekends without you, the fans and crewmembers that stop by to visit with us. Thank you!
The hardest part of any con weekend is saying goodbye. We saw Neil and Noel G. off on a safe flight back home. The rest of us stayed another night and had a nice, calm, quiet dinner . . . okay, I can’t keep a straight face on that one. We weren’t quiet at all as we shared funny stories around the table. It made for an awesome way to wrap up the chaos in Albuquerque.
The story doesn’t end there. Keep an eye out for my travel post. You’ll learn what happens when two of your commanders take a road trip through the desert.
Missed out on the action in Albuquerque? Our next live appearance will be at Monster Mania 21 on March 9-11th in Cherry Hill, NJ.
The mid-season finale for season 2 of The Walking Dead had a lot riding on it. I’m not talking about character drama, either. This first half of the season needed to live up to audience’s expectations. We were given a grab-you-by-the-throat first season of TWD. With only six episodes to make an impact, the creators and writers drove the plot and us hard, fast, and dirty. The pacing became a huge part of the appeal. With more episodes to play with, the pacing has suffered greatly. And unfortunately, it is turning people away. Episode 7 had to snag viewers attention again before the break. Did it succeed?
They wasted no time jumping into the major issue at hand: the barn. Glenn’s loyalty is seriously tested in his budding relationship with Maggie. He is torn between keeping secrets he’s sworn to by someone he just met, but feels a deep connection with, or manning up and telling the group of people that have helped him survive this long. In the end, I think he chose correctly and I think Maggie understands he did what he had to. She’s beginning to realize Hershel’s way of coping with the changes in the world aren’t the only way to do things. It only took her nearly being turned into a walker at the pharmacy to figure it out, though. Sometimes it takes a close call that rattles your world to see clearly.
The debate between Rick and Hershel about the occupants of the barn brought up a very good question: In a situation like the zombie apocalypse, is it naive to assume that all humans should band together to protect each other? Rick clings on to the hope that despite their differences in opinion, his crew and Hershel’s family can still coexist, all in the name of being safe. But from what we’ve seen, Rick forcing the issue of banding together has caused more issues. Hershel pulls his family and supplies in closer to his chest. He flat-out refuses any help from the other survivors. There’s a line in the sand, or rather a trench that’s filled with the fires of hell. Hershel cannot bring himself to even approach the line and consider the two factions becoming one group. They question his faith, the way he’s done things since even before the walkers came into existence. For someone living on the edge, that is as dangerous as approaching a zombie unarmed. In Hershel’s world it is his way or go away. No one is allowed to question him.
In the face-off between Dale and Shane we see glimpses of the same ruthless attempt to cling to control from both of the men. Unfortunately Dale isn’t a fighter. He will protect. He will give sage advice and be there if you need someone to unload all of your issues on, but he isn’t a trigger man. He tries to stand up for what he believes is the right thing and is cowed by Shane’s overwhelming presence. Does he see logic in the way Shane is handling things? Probably not. Dale isn’t a fool, though. He knows the kind of man Shane is. He also knows he can rely on that cold inner core Shane possesses to get things done, even if it scares the heck out of him.
Someone I thought would always keep that cold core is Daryl. This season has turned my perception of the mighty squirrel hunter on ear. He’s deep. Emotional. Caring. And completely clueless on how to make any sort of relationship with others work. Each time he opens up, he instantly shuts down and reverts to the “old” Daryl. Carol is the only person to consistently see into his heart, but not even she is safe from the out lash of self-loathing Daryl dives in to. He constantly slips back into the mindset likely formed by his lack of a real family unit. Why love yourself when no one else seems to give a damn? Carol cares and makes it very clear he can’t push her away. Will this tentative step towards an actual connection with another person (one not a figment of his imagination) lead to something more?
[Caution: spoilers below. If you have not watched the episode yet, walk away.]
I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about the final scene of the episode. Everything in the last six episodes came to a boiling point. Shane gave all of that anger, frustration, and lack of forward movement a voice. A very loud voice. I may not be on Team Shane, but he did what he thought he had to do to keep the family he wishes were his safe. Could he have gone about it better? Totally. It still had to be taken care of. How many more walkers would the barn have held? Did Hershel honestly think he could keep going for god knows how long simply shoving the undead away under a metaphorical rug? Eventually the rug gets so lumpy you trip and crack your head open. I think Hershel would have gone on until he himself became infected. He was so set in his idea that the zombies are still living that he couldn’t see the danger staring at him.
Even with Shane being the voice of the turmoil on the farm, it ended up being Rick who took care of the most difficult part of the entire season thus far. My own frustration came to a head when Sophia emerged from the barn. They’ve been searching so hard for so long and she’d been maybe a hundred yards away the whole time. When I sat to think about the episode, I had to wonder if Hershel realized that one of the walkers he’d captured was the little girl they were all looking for. Were his protests to leave the barn alone multifaceted? We know he thought he was keeping his “sick” family safe, but had he been hiding the truth of Sophia’s condition as well?
For as many questions as the mid-season finale (finally) answered, it posed a ton of others. Will Rick move his crew off the farm? Can Hershel look past his faith to see the world for how it really is? What will Maggie and Glenn do? I could go on and on with the questions rattling around my head. Which I probably will considering it is a very long wait until February when the second half of The Walking Dead season 2 kicks off.
This week The Walking Dead seemed to be missing something. They covered a lot of ground as far as addressing each characters plot arc but there was a key something missing. Oh, I know. Action.
Don’t mistake, I do enjoy watching our survivors grow and evolve to adjust to the harsh reality of the zombie apocalypse. That being said, it is a zombie apocalypse. They are fighting every day to survive. We were spoiled by the fast pace of the first season. The writers couldn’t take an entire episode to tie up all of their loose plot strings before the mid-season finale. That’s what they did here, gave us what I refer to as a “catch up” episode to put the ducks in a row in prep for next week, which from the previews promises the action we missed this week and then some. I hope.
We finally get to see Carl back on his feet this week. Right away it is painfully obvious that being shot has affected how he views the world. Carl is beginning to mature faster than we, with our modern sensibilities, think he should. But there is nothing Lori and Rick can do to stop this natural progression. He is old enough to realize their dire situation and wants to help protect the people he loves. Carl probably sees the world with truer eyes than anyone else when he tells his mother about the missing chicken, “Maybe she got eaten. Everything’s food for something else.” That’s the reality they live in. Some of the survivors simply refuse to see it.
That friggen barn is going to give me fits. Hershel’s ideals surrounding the occupants of the barn seem utterly ridiculous when put in contrast to what we’ve seen our band of nomads go through in and around Atlanta. We know these creatures are dead. We know that the synapses, those electric keys to what makes a human a human, aren’t working. All of this was covered for Rick’s crew at the CDC. There is no cure. These people aren’t sick. They are dead. Again, you can see Hershel’s faith coming in to play. He can’t kill the people he knows and loves. The guilt of putting them down would shatter the last marble he’s got rattling around in his stubborn brain. So instead of doing what we deem humane, he keeps zombie pets. To him it is the right thing because the Bible tells him not to kill. But what does the Good Book teach us about survival? Self defense? Turn the other cheek with a zombie and you’ll get a hole in your face.
Turning a blind eye to other situations can land you in the same sort of hot water, only this time the scars are emotional. Lori tries everything she can to avoid telling Rick about her pregnancy. She talks herself in endless circles about the future and what it could hold for her family. Admittedly, what set her off was the near-death of her son, Carl. As a mother I hope to never, ever be in a similar situation. Watching Lori go through it was bad enough. But… are her fears grounded? She says, “Memories are what keep me going”, then goes on to predict her unborn child’s future of nothing but pain and an early death. Life is what you make of it. If they leave the farm, they have months to find a new home base and settle in before the baby comes. There are plenty of areas similar to Hershel’s farm, in close proximity to cities with supplies, which they could move into. One has to wonder if she is worrying about her baby or what will happen if Rick entertains the idea that the baby isn’t his. She’d lose her hero, her husband, and the only one she can actually trust to keep her and Carl safe.
Dragged into the middle of Lori’s crisis is poor Glenn. He is trying, he really is, but still has a long way to go to be the hero he wants to become. The first step? Learn how to lie better. I’d play poker against Glenn any day. That lack of being able to hide the ugly truth is, unfortunately, a key tool of a leader. Sometimes you need to keep things from others to keep them calm and manageable. Rick does this often to give his crew the sense of stability they need while recovering from injuries. What Glenn isn’t lacking, though, is nerve. When the one person he really sees as his to protect is in danger, he went all Rambo. I would like to remind everyone that severing the spine does not kill a walker. Headshots, guys. Glenn nearly forgot, but it did make for an interesting zombie effect. After his hero moment, Maggie finally acknowledges what is inside his heart. She also sees how, in his effort to become more, to rise in the pack structure, Glenn could get himself good and dead.
If you paid attention to this episode, you will notice that there is one character with his nose in everything. The writers have taken Dale’s position as the “wise old man” a tad too far. We already knew that not much escapes his attention. Dale isn’t out in the woods, cut off from the core of the action. No, he stays perched on top on the RV simply watching. But it really bugs me that they felt in order to tie up all of these story lines they needed to use Dale so blatantly. He’s there when Carl expresses his desire to grow up more. Dale is the one to confront Hershel about the barn’s occupants. Heck, he even tries to help Lori about her baby issues. And the topper, Dale goes nose to nose with Shane about his erratic behavior after Otis’s death. There are other, less obvious ways to wrap things up for the mid-season finale. We didn’t need Dale to narrate it for us. He’s far too good a character to use like that.
Next week is the last episode we’ll get in 2011. There are still a lot of questions to be answered. Is Sophia still alive? Will Lori abort the pregnancy after all? Is Shane finally at the end of his rope? Guess we’ll have to wait and see.
At the ZSC, we’re all about encouraging members to tap into their natural talents. For instance, if Juliette didn’t have the uncanny ability to talk her way out of any dangerous situation, we’d have never made it this far. (Trust me; she’s saved our skin. A. Lot.) That being said, we want to see how talented you all are, while simultaneously emptying out our swag closet. It’s a win-win for all of us.
What’s the catch? We want your zombie poetry. It can be in any style you wish, any length you wish, though we do ask that there be a minimum of 10 words and a maximum of 200 words. At the end of the contest period, your ZSC commanders will sit and read through all of the entries to pick the top three poems for first, second, and third place prizewinners.
You have from November 18, 2011 (11-18-2011) until December 2, 2011 (12-2-2011) to submit your poetry entries.
First place: Winner receives a special, signed edition of the ZSC anthology book, Undead is Not an Option.
Second and third place: Winners receive a ZSC key chain.
Rules and Regulations:
One entry per person
Entries must be sent to command [at] zombiesurvivalcrew [dot] com with the subject “Zombie Poetry Contest.” Any entries received via Twitter, Facebook, or website comments will be disqualified.
Entries must be pasted into the body of the email. Please do not send document files, PDFs, or website links, or the entry will be automatically disqualified.
Plagiarized content will be disqualified.
Contest entries must be received by December 2, 2011 at 11:59 PM PST
Profanity and vulgarity are prohibited. Use of such will result in disqualification.
Entrants must be registered members of zombiesurvivalcrew.com. (If you are not, registering is FREE and EASY. Sign up HERE.)
When submitting entries, you give the Zombie Survival Crew permission to post your poetry on zombiesurvivalcrew.com and its associated social media outlets.
Winners will be notified via the email address given with their entry.
Please verify under which name you would like to be published as in your entry.
We are really looking forward to once again being wowed by the talent hidden within the Zombie Survival Crew’s members. Happy writing!
Special thanks to ZSC Special Forces commander Billy Tackett for creating such amazing zombie art and for allowing us to use it!
You know all of the ZSC Commanders have duct tape for a reason, right? You’ve seen them talk about it on Twitter, and it’s on their lists for their Go Bag essentials. Well, the duct tape is generally used to keep our fearless leader Juliette Terzieff in line because let me tell you, that woman is crazy sometimes!
All kidding aside, I’m here today to inform you of something I recently discovered. You see, I’ve been going through the files when I’m on duty in the Command Center to make sure I know exactly who these people are that I’m working with now. You can call it snooping if you’d like, but a guy’s gotta know what he’s dealing with around here.
I recently found this beauty:
That’s a picture of Juliette in a burqa, taken in Pakistan in 2004. She’s the one on the left.
Due to said picture, I’m inclined to suspect our fearless leader, folks. She says the outfit was necessary at the time for work, but I think she’s a lot more than meets the eye, and I’m determined to get to the bottom of this.
*looks at RC Murphy* What do you mean Jinxie G speaks Arabic? Hmm . . . I wonder how many other languages she speaks. And why did she keep it a secret from me? After all, I’m her first lieutenant… a commander should never keep secrets from her right hand man.
And speaking of secrets… *steals another look at RC Murphy* …I wonder how many other things commander Murphy knows that she’s not telling. Since she’s the command’s secret keeper, I’ll bet it’s a lot. I’m going to have to try to get close to her and see whether I can get her to spill. Maybe I can get her first lieutenant, Rocco, to help me out. I’m going to need the information she has.
Anyway, as you can see from this video, the one where our fearless leader *snorts* thinks I tried to run her over, that is definitely NOT the case. I pulled it off her phone when she wasn’t looking. Anthony Michael Hall helped me out with that one. Thanks, man.
Oh, she can claim I tried to run her over all she wants, but I think it’s pretty apparent that I was just having fun there.
And speaking of Anthony Michael Hall, I really need to find out what makes his commander tick. How does the Oracle know all that she does? I think she might hold the key to the entire operation. That alone makes me suspicious, but Anthony Michael trusts her, and he’s pretty savvy, so I’ll just keep a watchful eye for now.
In a nutshell, I am beginning to suspect quite a few things around here, but not to worry; I’ll get to the bottom of it all and keep you, dear crew members, informed.
And if I have to take over to get this place running correctly, you can bet I will.
The following letter was received from a crew member over the weekend. We can confirm that while attempting to aid commander R.C. Murphy, Grae Wolffe (@grae42) was targeted by the UGA. While we are unsure of how they knew of his involvement, the photo evidence is proof enough. Someone is watching every move we make. Commanders and crew members alike must remain vigilant.
~~~~~~~~~~
The truth is out there…
At least that’s what they keep telling us on television. But I think it is reverse psychology at work; “They” don’t really want us to know the truth, but prefer us to stay in a semi-ignorant state, stupefied by reality tv and celebrity gossip. There are some shows out there that try to keep us prepared, but very few people seem to take those seriously.
I was recently introduced to a small group of proactive thinkers, planning ahead for the inevitable apocalypse They don’t want us to know is coming. This crew is dispersed throughout the world, in small pockets, and in a short time have gotten organized and prepared to handle the reality behind this veil of secrecy They are keeping from us.
Who they are is as much of a question as what they have planned. Is it some mega-corporate conglomerate, or some Unknown Government Agency pulling the strings in clandestine fashion until such time as They feel empowered enough to announce Their presence to the masses? We who have been duped all this time need to wake up to the reality behind that veil They try to keep in place.
The envelope pictured is proof that someone out there is monitoring the correspondence of the Crew. I am a relative unknown in this arena, only recently becoming involved online. But in my first attempt to provide assistance to one of the leaders that envelope was the result.. and it didn’t even make it out of the town I live in. This is the measure of Their influence already.
If They are this aware already, have infiltrated to such depths as to affect things on the local level at the town level, we must all prepare. The belief is this UGA Conglomerate has something nasty prepared, and indications are it will be some kind of pandemic leading to mass chaos – a Zombie Apocalypse.
So prepare now. Reach out and investigate for yourself.. Don’t get caught, be one of the survivors.
At the ZSC, we’re all about encouraging members to tap into their natural talents. For instance, if 
