When there’s no more room in Hell, the dead will show their work in the margins.

What is science but a theory of thresholds? This fast and you escape orbit, this slow and you’re getting cold. Certainly, science has been used and misused, and maybe taken in ways unexpected, but isn’t it really just another puzzle? When all the pieces are finally in the right order, the picture is instantly clear, and then any idiot can figure it out.

So it’s pretty safe to say that a brilliant scientist, sitting around in eternal peace for an extended period of time, would be totally and completely bored out of their minds. And that same scientist, eventually, might puzzle out a way to come back from that vast and wonderful Beyond. After all, what’s Death but one more threshold, governed by strict laws that surely the dead would have time to learn? And who better to learn them than some of the finest minds the world has ever created?

So, then, why do all the zombie movies feature houses being attacked by people that look like truck drivers and waitresses and people that work in an office? Why not an unstoppable Richard Feynman, creating complex traps to feed on undergraduates and strippers? Why not a shambling Marie Curie, glowing with an eerie light and beating people to death with her Nobel prize? Why not a friendly Einstein who apologizes gently as he devours a person’s skull?

Come on, Hollywood. What’s wrong with a little hardcore science?

Wear this shirt: around the lab. It’ll look good under a white coat.

Don’t wear this shirt: to your night job as a gravedigger. Also, don’t wear that white coat. You’ll get it dirty and the other scientists will make fun of you.

This shirt tells the world: “I have become death, the destroyer of worlds.”

We call this color: He Was Six Feet Under The Grass But Then…

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