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Spinach: Zombie Sheep (part 2).

Last week we talked about misfits.  This week, we’re gonna talk about Zombie Sheep because that sounds SUPER COOL.  I wish could say I coined the term, but it was actually invented by me.  (Okay, fine, it was also inspired by something a wise friend said...as is this entire post, if I’m being honest.)  

Holy cow I think a bomb just went off in my neighborhood.  
Must not‘ve been.  Don’t worry, Mom.  

Moving on...

What’s a Zombie Sheep?  
Do you say it fast, like, “Zombiesheep”?  
Do the cool people refer to them as “Zombaas”?  
And how do you know if you’re cool enough to be one of the cool people?  Now, that’s a good question.  And, shockingly, the perfect lead-in to the rest of this essay.  
Because, who exactly are the cool people?  What makes them cool?  
Usually, we think people are cool because they model attributes we admire, but aren’t brave enough or smart enough to think of or implement ourselves.  
So, that original cool person is pretty cool.  They’re brave, they’re original, they look great in bell bottoms (somebody must have, one time, for a hot second).  

But then what happens?  

Everybody else wants to be like that cool person.  And what’s the quickest way to be, or seem, just as cool?  If you said it’s to use your own stupid brain and think of something original and brave that you can do to earn your own brand of coolness...you are WRONG.  The quickest way to be perceived as cool is to copy the existing cool people in every detail!  And since there aren’t many original cool people (let’s call ‘em “OCPs”...), that means a lot of non-cool people start dressing, acting, and talking the exact same way, until at some point the quirky, brave, attractive, smart, weird OCP is forgotten, and we’re left with a giant crowd of pseudo “cool” people milling around, reveling in their coolness and the coolness of each other, all without realizing that the very things that make them cool are also the very things that define everybody else.   

These people, my friends, are the Zombie Sheep of the world.  They move in flocks and herds, like sheep, and they feed off the hearts of the living, like zombies.  They are touchingly attached to each other, and can smell their friends from miles away, but they’re also too dumb to notice that they’re all dead inside.  

SO.  What do misfits have to do with Zombie Sheep?  
Well, you may have noticed, because it’s pretty obvious, that there’s a “missing link” to this picture.  
And that is the OCPs.  
Who are they?  Where did they come from?  There have always been OCPs, and they have always been followed by Zombie Sheep, but, considering the pervasiveness of the Zombaa plague, how do OCPs manage to survive, and keep springing up, again and again, as resilient against expectations and stereotypes and cliches as spring grass is against trampling sheepy hooves?  


My friends.  Fellow misfits.  We.  You and I.  We weird, strange, lonely, nasty, peculiar little people.  We, the misfits, we ARE the OCPs.  I’m not saying we’re immune to the pull of “coolness”, to the rushing hordes of Zombaas trampling through our lives one after the other in continual waves of social obligation, to even wanting to join the ranks nearly every day of our lives.  So then, what saves us?  Well.  To be blunt.  Zombaas hate us.  They think we’re weird and uncomfortable.  We confuse and bewilder them.  So they might trample us, they might gnaw on us, they might swallow us whole and poop us out the other end, but they will never embrace us. 



We will never be “one of them”.  Which means that we, if we dare, are in a prime position in this world.  You hear me, misfits?  If we are willing to be brave, to be distinctly ourselves, to embrace the life and wonder that comes from our own minds, weird as it may seem, we will become the OCPs.  And being so, we will inspire and change other people.  They will change into a new brand of Zombie Sheep, and it’ll look a lot like us.  




And we’ll still be misfits and we’ll creep away from parties given in our honor and cry into empty ice cream containers and wonder if anyone else on the planet has felt the way we do.  But we’ll have the comfort of knowing that...well...something. *insert comforting platitude of your choosing here*.


Note:  If you are a fan of this blog and would like to request your very own, original, “Zombaaa!” Or “I’m an OCP” T-shirt, just leave a comment below and I’ll get off my butt and try to figure out how to make your dreams come true without doing anything illegal.  
Note #2:  I think “OCP” is also a kind of chronic lung condition, so maybe nix on that shirt.  Or just buy one and wear a nice sweater over it.  I’m cool wit’ dat.  
Note #3:  Don’t smoke, kids.

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