Day 320:
Wheel experimentation delayed by attack from a zombie horde during mining today.
I know we’re all supposed to respect other cultures, but it can be hard to shake off our own beliefs. Like, for example, when two zombies attack you and you dispatch one (“dispatch” is a much nicer word than “murder” don’t you think?) with your sword, and then the other one picks up some of the rotting flesh from the first and tries to beat you with it.
WHO DOES THAT?
Maybe in a society where your fellow man literally turns to dust in the moment of their death, there is no sacredness to the remains of a fellow creature?
Not that I’m even sure these zombies are sentient. They’re capable of crying out in pain, yes, and they’re capable of finding and achieving a goal (at least they are when the goal is “murder me”). They all wear the same clothes (assuming those are clothes and not the strangest skin every) which indicates some kind of culture (or serious lack of imagination). And they’re clearly tool users or they wouldn’t know to beat me with the dead body in the first place.
But ugh, I get grossed out every time they do it.