Which treatise on the international costs of vertical integration tells him whether or not he should sleep with his boss in exchange for a promotion?
And how do Muhammad Yunus’s analyses of bilateral microfinance initiatives help him know what to do when he sees a way to “bend” the rules (that the government regulators will almost certainly fail to notice) that could triple profits by the end of the second quarter?
Do our hero’s dilemmas sound familiar? Can you relate? Does this hypothetical businessman remind you of, say ... you?
If it does, don’t worry. The first thing to do is relax and take a very deep breath.
Zombies have you covered.
The most important thing they don’t teach you in business school is not to do anything too drastic. Why volunteer to be the team leader with all the accountability, when you can be lost somewhere in the support crew? Why stick your neck out unnecessarily just to get the boss’s attention? Remember, attention can be negative, as well as positive.
I’m not saying that to be like a zombie you must do nothing at all. Make some decisions, sure. (Just like zombies do.) Take action if you have to, but never hastily or quickly.
As zombies know all too well, there’s no reason to sprint, when slow and steady also wins the race.
When you’re at a department meeting, the less you say, the better. Simple, zombie-like utterances will usually do. A low grunt of assent or dissent gets the message across just fine. A brief nod or shake of the head is eminently more palatable to those around you than a crisply articulated “Great idea, boss!” or a thoughtfully jargoned “I think we need to control expectations as relates to this request.”
Besides making you appear to be a ladder-climbing kiss-ass, saying too much can also get you into trouble. It can betray your true (selfish) motives. Things you say can and will be used against you ... by your boss and by other people who might want your job.
So follow a zombie’s example. There’s no need to come out swinging with some complicated business school-ese like: “I’d like to dialogue with you about synergizing to exceed standards on best practices for cranial acquisition” when a simple “ ... braaaains ... ” will do just fine.
In addition to being a world in which silence is golden, the workplace is also frequently described as being a “dogeat-dog” world. Which is to say, man-eat-man. And with the possible exception of South American cannibal tribes, stranded Uruguayan soccer teams, and AVN Award winners, nobody’s got more man-eating experience than a zombie.
Are you looking to be more cold-blooded?
A zombie can help you out with that.
The average Gordon Gekko financial district employee has nothing on a zombie. A zombie can eat his former best friend and business partner and feel nothing. A zombie can “cooperate” and “work” alongside others on a “project” when it suits his purposes, and eight hours later be kicking back with a cranium cocktail, his coworkers’ corpses strewn at his feet. Allegiances are temporary (and mostly unintentional) for zombies.
Wall Street types think ice water runs in their veins because they rook grannies out of their pensions or use junk bonds to defraud investment houses.
Whatever, Mr. Tough-Guy.
Your average i-banker wouldn’t last a day against a zombie. Wall Street types are fueled by avarice and greed. They want money. They want a yacht, a mistress, and a summer place in the Hamptons. Zombies, on the other hand, play for the love of the game.
Tell me, Mr. i-Banker, how are you going to use your business skills to outwit or outmaneuver something that has no use for money? Something that “works” 24 hours a day (while you’re catching Zs in your Park Avenue two-bedroom)? Something that has no use for networking events or “being connected”? (The only connection a zombie cares about is its teeth connecting with your occipital lobe, son.)
If your goal is to obtain the man-eating ruthlessness necessary to succeed in business today, make zombies your model, not Wall Street types. A zombie’s ruthlessness, hunger, and (quite literal) cold-bloodedness make it the perfect touchstone. (Also, unlike investment bankers, zombies don’t wear too much cologne, invest in trendy bistros that go under in six weeks, or try to bang the intern from Barnard.)
For a final thought on this topic, consider the ancient query: “What is work?”
Zombie Tip:
Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.
Especially when it involves violent, lawless mayhem and cannibalism. Those brains aren’t going to eat themselves. Hop to it, dude.
Is, for example, something still “work” if you enjoy doing it? What about if you would still do it even if you had to take a cut in a pay, or for no pay at all? If some aspect of your life not occurring between nine and five is laborious to you and involves great effort, should it not also count as work as well (despite no employment relationship being formalized)?
This antediluvian riddle can never be solved. It can never be solved because each person must find the answer for him- or herself.
Zombies have found their own answer to this ancient query: They make no distinction whatsoever.
You might say that a zombie is “always on.” There is never a time when it relaxes from its quest for brains, takes off its shoes and kicks back after a hard day’s running amok. Zombies take no coffee breaks, vacations, or early retirements. Whatever a zombie does, it’s always doing it.
Not to say that you must be like a zombie and be “on” 24 hours a day. Rather, the point is to notice that zombies make no distinction between work and play, or between being on and being off. A zombie is what it is. The way it is right now? That’s how it’s going to be at 9 a.m.... and at 9 p.m. ... whether it’s Monday, Sunday, or Pulaski Day.
And while some zombie researchers have, yes, characterized this way-of-being along the lines of “an unending godless feast of carnage and terror,” the properly attuned eye can also see it as “finding a balance in your life.”
And really, isn’t that what we’re all working for?
5
Slow Down! (You Move Too Fast)
Most aphorisms in praise of “slowing down” to appreciate this or that aspect of life are written by simpering poets (who encourage stopping “to smell the roses”) or by vegetarian folk-singers of questionable mettle. Zombies aren’t simpering, and they certainly aren’t vegetarians, but they do move slowly. Moving slowly is not a problem for a zombie. To the contrary, as a zombie proves, there can be distinct advantages to a more ponderous tread.
Did you ever hear of a zombie being nervous, or having high blood pressure (or blood pressure at all)? No. Zombies take it easy. If one human runs away, it’s not like there won’t be others. Slow and steady wins the race, and this is inherently apparent to a zombie.
People make fun of the somnambulist’s stagger that is the marching style of most zombies, but few people think of it as being like a really cool pimp-walk. Pimps are cool, and even when they’re in a hurry, they manage to put one foot in front of the other in trademark style. Evidently, zombies are the pimps of the netherworld, and their gait is inspired by the same confidence that gives a street pimp his style. (This may be something of an oversimplification, but at the same time, bitch better have my brains !!!)
Zombies also use their slow speed as a tactical advantage in many situations. Zombies walk but don’t run, so fleeing humans usually understand themselves to have a little time to run away. However, in doing so, these humans reliably make very bad decisions, of which zombies will happily take advantage. For example:
Ack, zombies! We just have time to barricade ourselves inside of an abandoned house and nail all of the doors shut, effectively sealing us in until the zombies catch up.
Ack, zombies! We just have time to run deeper into this abandoned mine (or system of caves), which we can only assume must go on forever.
Ack, zombies! We just have time to run to the other side of this tiny island (instead of, say, fixing our boat), where I’m sure t
here won’t be more zombies waiting for us.
In each of these cases, it is the impression zombies give that they can be at least temporarily outrun that leads their victims to make these bad decisions. Time after time, the zombie’s victims ironically place themselves in situations where the zombies’ lack of quickness will no longer be a factor.
Adopting a zombie’s style of movement can have numerous advantages for you as well.
When you move slowly, you’re apt to notice more of what’s going on around you. You’ll be more observant and take a lot more away from the experiences you have.
When you move slowly, you’ll also be less likely to miss things or make mistakes because you’re rushing to “get something off your plate.” You won’t gloss over the details. Slowness breeds effectiveness and quality work.
And when you’re eating something (like, I dunno, say ... someone’s head), slowing down will really help you savor the tasty goodness of the dish. You wouldn’t wolf down a five-course meal at Alain Ducasse, would you? Naw, man. Of course not. You gotta slow down and enjoy every morsel. It may take you longer to finish, but you’ll be glad you did!
Moving slowly creates opportunity. You can always speed up if you need to, but once you pass something by, it’s usually gone forever. A slow-and-steady zombie keeps his options open. You should consider doing this as well.
If you’re a slow-moving type, go ahead and be slow. Let the world adjust to you, not the other way around.
That’s what zombies do.
Zombie Tip:
The early bird gets the worm ...
but when zombies are early to stuff, it generally works against them. Their appearance, groaning noises, and powerful freshfrom-the-grave smell are usually clues to humans to stay away. If you want to be like a zombie, err on the side of being late.
6
Be Your Own Boss
Zombies don’t handle subordinate positions well, and neither should you. Zombies are especially bad team players when their would-be-bosses are arrogant types who deserve a grisly comeuppance at the hands of oh, say, zombies.
Woe betide the voodoo priest, medieval warlock, or late nineteenth century scientist who thinks he’s going to create a zombie to do his or her bidding! Usually, these persons have the best of intentions, and certainly, the idea may be tempting at the time ... but trust me, it never ends well.
Misguided attempts at creating zombies for personal use usually include one of the following:
The Domestic: In other words, a zombie to help out around the house, possibly to carry out the trash and empty the kitty litter. This “zombutler” frees a mad scientist or shaman up to do more important things. Little do these scientists and shamans know that nothing is more important than zombies, and that the zombies themselves could give a fuck about your other plans. Even though they may look cute in little tuxedos and maid outfits, zombie servants are always a very bad idea.
The Love Zombie: Let’s say your lover has jilted you one time too many. You, like any other pith-helmeted English explorer who has painstakingly cultivated a good relationship with the local witch doctor, might say to yourself: “Right. If I can’t have her in human form, I’ll get the next best thing.” (By this last statement, you, of course, mean that you’ll capture her, take her to the witch doctor, and have him kill and reanimate her as your concubine. Ahh, the innocence of a young love.) By the time you execute your plan, you’ll realize that your decomposing paramour somehow isn’t her old self, and now only loves you for your mind (brain). Any attempts at a tryst will only end with you getting eaten, and not in a good way. Again, zombies don’t work for anybody, and certainly not as decaying courtesans.
The Revenge Zombie: Got an enemy who’s bigger and stronger than you? Don’t have the guts to face him yourself? Want to have him strangled and all the important parts eaten? Want all the fingerprints and DNA left over to belong to somebody who’s already dead? Using a zombie sounds like a good plan, right? It might even seem at first like it’s going to work. It isn’t. Sure, release a zombie in your enemy’s bedroom, and your enemy may get eaten. But things won’t stop there. Either (A) the zombie will be traced back to you, (B) the zombie will find its way back to you, and eat you, or (C) the zombie will eat something (or someone) near and dear to you, leaving you distraught and kneeling on the floor screaming “Not like this ... Not like this!” and possibly contemplating reanimating the dearly departed. (This would be a bad idea. See previous scenario.)
The Zombie Army: What power-hungry despot hasn’t considered making some sort of deal with the devil in order to command a host of the undead? And sure, a zombie army might look attractive at first. The advantages of zombie soldiers are plentiful. They don’t need to be fed, paid, or billeted between battles. They can march all night without stopping. They don’t complain about being sent to their almost certain destruction, and they can keep fighting after sustaining injuries that would leave a normal soldier prone and shouting for a medic.
That said, there are important ways in which the zombie army fails to perform essential functions of human armies. Prisoners, for example, are usually eaten by zombie troops before they can reveal to you any useful information about enemy encampments. Tactical withdrawals and disengagements are not usually in the zombie soldier’s vocabulary. (Once a zombie smells brains, it’s on!) Further, your enemy can usually disengage your zombie army whenever he wants (provided his troops can manage a slow jog), whereas your force will have considerable difficulty in pursuit. Most troubling of all, zombie armies tend not to disband when the military campaign is concluded. Instead, they’ll turn on the residents of whatever country or kingdom you’ve used them to capture, turning the very prize you fought for into a desolate wasteland that only a zombie could love. Then, when there is nobody else left, the zombie army will turn on you. But hey, what did you expect? When you dance with the devil, he always gets to lead. And in this case, he’ll lead you right into the middle of a zombie army with nothing else to do.
The important lesson to take here is that a zombie works only for himself (or herself). Sure, a zombie’s self-interest may momentarily coincide with your own, but at the end of the day, a zombie looks out for number one. So should you.
Zombie Tip:
Believe in yourself!
Well, maybe not your living, complete and total self ... but you know that “self” that’s left when the soul has exited the body and then that leftover corpse has been stashed to rot for a few years before being supernaturally or scientifically reanimated to walk the earth and eat people’s brains? That self. Believe in that.
7
Whereof One Cannot Speak . . .
Seriously, no one likes a gossip or a motormouth. People who can’t stop prattling on and on about endless trivialities will never get far in life. Zombies, by contrast, get very far precisely because they place extreme limits on verbal communication. (That is, if they don’t eliminate it altogether.)
While a few zombies are completely silent, most can manage at least a moan. Some know a word or two (like “brains”), and high functioning zombies have been known to utter entire sentences. The important thing is, nobody ever heard of a zombie talking more than was absolutely necessary.
What is “necessary” for a zombie?
A fair question. The answer? Brains. As many as possible. And while the average zombie’s guttural moan of “ ... braaaaaaaaaains ... ” may be little more than an involuntary declaration of love for what it prizes most in (after)life, the zombie who can manage articulate intentional speech uses it only to further his or her ends. A zombie may:
Impersonate an ambulance dispatcher to order more paramedics when all available ones have been eaten.
Use a small amount of speech with one human to negotiate his way into a situation where there will be additional humans (gaining entrance to a building, etc.).
Use a word or two to operate voice-activated doors or machines, provided this will lead them closer to actua
l humans.
Utter just enough speech to appear human when appearing to be a zombie would be a disadvantage (i.e., hiding; this is rare behavior, and only the highest-functioning zombies ever do it).
The Zen of Zombie Page 3