Embrace Your Rotting Brethren
Ferd missed Woodstock, even though he hadn’t even been born when it happened. 40 years later, Ferd was prone to wearing tie-dyed t-shirts, bell-bottom pants and unmatched sandals to the college library where he worked as a book re-shelver. His iPod was full of peace, love, and the rock of the time; it was his only companion these days, and he would lose himself for hours in the dusty stacks, disillusioned by the me-me-me generation that surrounded him. Nobody cared about others anymore, it seemed. Ferd wanted to care, but couldn’t bring himself to apply it to the selfish hordes of today’s society.
It all became clear when the first one of ‘them’ shambled through the metal detectors at the entrance of the library. The response was immediate and appalling, ending with a shotgun blast and thunderous applause. “Wait, all of you!” he shouted, silencing the strangely eclectic crowd of onlookers. “How can you celebrate the death, the RE-death of this person?” he said, his voice gaining strength, delivering a moving soliloquy on the value of all life, be it natural or UN. Tears were not rare in that crowd, and many came to stand by Ferd’s side as he finished, “Who among us would want the same treatment, if that were you? Or your mother?” Silence answered him, and a pair of young pre-med students soberly began reconstructing the shotgunned victim’s head. Alas, they failed like all the King’s Horses and All the King’s Men, never to put Humpty Dumpty together again.
Today, every single person in the small crowd has become a powerhouse spokesperson in the fight for Zequality, and the fight is far from over. Join the movement and wear our shirts as a clarion call for all the oppressed and disintegrating people in our society, who, while they can moan, have no voice for their needs. Made of 100% pre-shrunk Cotton, our tagless shirts are a valuable accessory to any rally or protest march in the name of our undead brethren.