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Let's throw it back for a minute or two.  You're sitting with a group of your friends at recess back in the good old days of nap time and Saturday morning cartoons when one of the young tykes next to you suggests that the group should pass the time with a rousing game of tag.  Without hesitation you hear a booming round of "NOT IT"s and to your utter disappointment, as you try your hardest to form the words, you realize that you are, in fact, IT.  


And, if you were like me, as you struggled to snag onto even the smallest piece of stray clothing fluttering wildly behind your friend in a full sprint, you found yourself lamenting the moment with bitter, isolated thoughts, that you ever allowed such a thing to happen to you.  You vow that never again will you be IT. 

The current condition of our society is what I like to refer to as, the "NOT IT"Syndrome.  Yes there is a more technical term for said condition, but for the sake of the anecdote we will be sticking with aforementioned street jargon.  It will never be us whose house is broken into.  It will never be us that will be the victim of some freak-accident.  And it will never be us that dies in the apocalypse   


The sad fact is that when 85% of the world's population has turned, statistics says that you are probably going to be one of those people chomping on some bloke's leg on some stranger's front lawn.  Even sadder is that if you survive, most everyone you love is going to bite the dust, (or you if they are presented with the opportunity).  I have come to the realization in this class, even as a member of the defense council, that the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.  

So I am here to tell you that if one day you find yourself up shit's creek without a paddle, don't feel bad, champ.  
It's not you.  It's statistics.

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6 Responses so far.

  1. M.Sturges says:

    This is great, "Not it" is a wonderful description/analogy for almost every discussion we have in the class. We are all operating on some form of blind optimism, some hope that we will make decisions and hopefully survive. The Zombie Choice game that was played and class and I played over the weekend was great, our actions mattered (somewhat) and we had some semblance of choice. That said, I think the game leaves out something that is critical in decision making: fear. I know we discussed it and 'analyzed' maybe why zombies are a source of fear, but what about good, old-fashioned, terror? horde of decaying corpses are chasing you, actively trying to kill you. What about terror? The inability to make any real choices and instead just instinctively wallow/hide in the cabinet? The game allowed us the ability to make choices, which was great, yet I think the real challenge would be making a decision at all. When flight or fight kicks in for most of us, I dont think anyone has the time/calm-state of mind to make a balanced, well thought out decision. Instead, I think most actions are a mix of instincts/emotions based on the opportunities in front of us, and to get back to the above post, statistically most of us will choose incorrectly.

  2. What a wonderfully depressing post. No, but really, I enjoyed reading this. I love the anecdote that you used. All I can imagine is the zombie being IT as all of civilization runs in the opposite direction. Eventually though, as you state, statistics practically prevent you from fleeing the growing zombie population. Although we may feel confident in our abilities to become the next Rick from Walking Dead, the chances are against us.

  3. Good point, most of us really wouldn't survive a zombie apocalypse. Even if you make the right choice 99% of the time, it only takes one bad move or even just a stroke of bad luck to join the masses.

  4. Unknown says:

    Great post, I particularly enjoyed the ending, hilarious. I'd like to think that I could survive a zombie apocalypse, but 85% of the population?...so your tellin' me there's a chance!

  5. Tag is scary enough when there's just one "it." Imagine 30, 50, or even 100 its coming at you. No teachers around to tattle to, no bell to save you, no juice box waiting for you on the inside if you manage to escape them all. But the worst thing of all? No tag backs.

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