Viva la (social) Revolution! Your guide to social etiquette in a post apocalyptic world.

I realise full too well that the start of the next sentence is going to make me sound like a French revolutionary.

But come the glorious day, brother, (told you), when the dead rise, and the living take up arms against the shambling, slightly smelly threat, we're going to go through some changes. In a world where you may find yourself shooting that nice old lady from two rooms down right between the red, unblinking eyes, and having no one thinking you need locking up for it, social conventions are not going to stay the same. So here's a few rules for that time to avoid that dreadful "someone just committed social death" awkward silence.

Sleepwalking is now even more awkward.

You've watched your friends and family die horribly to hordes of stumbling necrotic flesh, you're wary about anyone walking slowly and badly and seemingly not looking where they're going. Sleepwalking is currently just awkward and embarrassing. In case of zombie apocalypse? It involves your head being blown to delicious chunky salsa.

Suddenly, everyone loves the nutters.

You know that slightly weird kid who knows all sorts of weird things about making weapons, explosives, and surviving in odd circumstances? The one who seems to spend far too much time on the internet reading up on things? Well, firstly, wave when you next pass him sitting alone in his corner. That's me. Secondly, get ready to make him your new best friend, because he's got the skills and possibly the equipment needed to survive in this zombie-eat-dog-and-then-everything-else-world. Similarly, you know the great big scary guy in the leather jacket with the shaved head and tattoos? The one who's almost certainly got illegal guns somewhere? Your best friend number two.

The Three Amigos

Basically, if you ever see someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley, or someone wearing one of those "In case of zombie apocalypse, follow me" t shirts... follow them.

Romero will become God.

Back in the far distant past of 1968, George Romero released Night of the Living Dead, and gave our conciousness the idea of a zombie not just being the product of black magic. Due to the slight accident of forgetting to copyright the film and leaving it in the public domain, he attracted a wave of imitators, warning humanity of the threat to come. Should all this actually happen, what are the bets this man will become, at the least, a prophet - if not a God in his own right? Be prepared to run into nutty cults who end their sentences "Romero be praised!".

Oh, and one last thing:

However much you want to go there, stay away from the shopping malls.

Just remember, Max Brookes tells you how to avoid actual death with the Zombie Survival Guide. I tell you how to avoid social death. Together, we're a team.

In a blog where the stakes are high...

Don LaFontaine is a man with one of the most recognisable voices of all time. Well, not right now. Right now, he's dead. But back in the long distant past of before September 1st 2008, his voice rang forth from speakers worldwide. Who was this man? This man was one of the greatest heroes of all cinema. (Besides anyone remotely involved in The Lion King, who I set aside on a personal level that cannot be touched by anything whatsoever. Ever.) Don LaFontaine was the man who did the voice for the trailers. Usually starting with "In a world..." or "This Summer...", he was how you knew you were at the cinema. (Besides the aroma of stale popcorn, darkness, comfy chairs, and big screen. Obviously.)

No one quite knows how his distinctive bass tones came into being. Some say he was the product of an illigetimate love affair between a tiger and a cement mixer. Some say that at the age of eleven, he removed his vocal chords, soaked them for a week in finest bourbon, and then reinserted them and gargled daily with gravel. Some say he found smoking so ineffective in keeping his demon-child tones, that he used to remove his lungs and paint them directly with tar. Some say a prophecy was made in ancient times that a man with a voice like thunder would shake the land of the silver screen, a man who would foretell what would be coming the following Summer, a man with the ability to look into the lives of hapless comedy protagonists, sum their misfortunes up in one sentence, and end... "Until now...". Possibly followed by a record needle scratching and the fast paced, upbeat music beginning.

However, his unique gravelly tones must have spawned a few problems. The temptation to lapse into clichéd phrases in uncomfortable situations must be enormours - not to mention the situations in which such deep and resonant tones may not be entirely appropriate. Imagine LaFontaine at a barbecue:

"In a world where the steaks are high..."

LaFontaine in a library:

"Mr LaFontaine? Would you mind being a little quieter?"

"In a world where the truth is kept silent..."

"What? Look, you're disturbing the other patrons."

"One man will discover they're out of copies of The Da Vinci Code."

"We can put you on the reserve list if you want?"

"On the way, he'll struggle against librarian adversity..."

"Honestly, Mr LaFontaine, if you don't lower your voice I may be forced to ask you to leave."

"... and the passive aggression that opressed a nation. He was always a mild mannered man..."

"If you don't get out, I'm calling security."

"...Until now."

At this point, LaFontaine's personal speakers start playing the rerecorded version"Lux Aeterna" from Requiem for a Dream (which plays in every trailer ever), he attacks the librarian from various camera angles, something blows up, there's a woman in a bikini, he dispatches the security guards with kung fu, there's a car chase (still in the library), and, finally, LaFontaine pumps his shotgun (which was probably in the stacks somewhere or other. They always have shotguns at libraries), says a witty one liner, and fires.

So, yes. I can see it being a problem.