Is it over yet?

For the past few years I feel as though I have been laying low, hiding out, crouched behind boarded-up windows with my home-made shotgun ready to fight if it came scratching at my door…

I’m talking about the Kardashian Apocalypse.

The world has been ravaged, and the affliction spread faster than a cold-sore at a kissing booth. It’s not that I don’t like the Kardashians, it’s that I find them somewhat problematic, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Is it them? Is it me? Is it the whole world and I’ve been left behind?? All this Kardashian-triggered introspection makes me quite uncomfortable to say the least.

At first I didn’t take Kim and her crony of K’s too seriously. ‘A fad’, I thought – another desperate clawing for limelight that smelled too much of bad reality TV – the Paris Hilton of Jerry Springerville.

Boy was I wrong! It didn’t take long for me to realize they were indeed here to stay; the self appointed new-age royalty with as much class as a ‘Pull my Finger’ wife-beater and as stubborn as last nights Neapolitan sauce on your white silk top.

It’s been terrible, watching the throngs fall. But nothing could have prepared me to see my own people, my nearest and dearest succumb to the festering Kardashianism.

The Walking Dead - Season 2, Episode 1 - Photo Credit: Gene Page/AMC - DSC_0111phgn_R_Ph_Gene_Page

The Walking Dead – Season 2, Episode 1 – Photo Credit: Gene Page/AMC – DSC_0111phgn_R_Ph_Gene_Page

No one has been safe. Not even sweet, dear old Tannie Hettie – my childhood neighbor who would make me milky rooibos tea and bake ouma-style rusks every Saturday morning. Even she, in her curlers, fluffy dressing gown and crocks, can not get enough of the Kardashians – as though keeping up was even a possibility. They even took her and I cried and cried over the senseless loss. How? Why? Why Tannie Hettie!

(Then again the crocs should have been my first clue.)

So when I read that some Florida TV anchor in America had a meltdown rant about the Kardashians and how he’s SO OVER the non-news that has been holding the world hostage for far too long…I was thrilled! A fellow hater! A kindred spirit. Someone else out there agrees with me that this whole K problem needs to go away already.

Like any good end-of-the-world zombie story, it was like hearing the scratchy calls of another human over wind-up battery radio waves. Proof that somewhere out there, somewhere beyond the war-torn zombie fields, devil-weed suburbia and ravaged cities – nothing left but smoke and a few cats – there is another living soul who wasn’t taken. Who somehow survived the outbreak and is now putting out a call, searching for life amongst the Walking Dead.

It was my first hopeful glimmer that things might be turning. The Kardashians didn’t decimate every last one of us after all. They didn’t break the internet. I am not the only one left – civilization might rise again.


For now I’ll stay here behind my boarded-up windows with my home-made shotgun and wind-up battery radio, but I’ll be ready and waiting. Waiting all Milla Jovovich or Brad Pitt style (or insert any other actor who did a decent job as a zombie apocalypse movie role) to fight. Waiting to join the rebellion forces that will take back what once belonged to us. Ready for a post-Kardashian world.


Yours in freedom,