Zombies are everywhere right now.

Calm down, faithful reader. I don’t mean literally. I was using a figure of speech, so stop barricading your door. I was referring to the resurgence of the living dead in pop culture. Zombies are selling like hotcakes, and it’s all because the economy is bad.

This connection might not seem obvious, so let’s break it down.

The first assertion that zombies and zombie-themed entertainment are doing well can be easily observed. Zombies are in video games like “Dead Rising,” movies like “Shaun of the Dead” and even on Facebook. The group “The Hardest Part of a Zombie Apocalypse Will be Pretending I’m Not Excited” has 28,941 members (as a Kansan contributor I am required to use Facebook as a source once in every 10 columns). Young consumers are eating this stuff up like brains.

People are drawn to zombies, because a world with zombies is an attractive alternative to the world we live in. No one would consume zombie-based products if they weren’t intriguing. The Facebook group says it right in the name. Those 28,940 members welcome an outbreak.

The reason has to do with my second point: The economy sucks. People finishing up college must worry about job hunts, starting the next phase of their lives. They know that Social Security will likely be gone when they retire. If the zombie dream became a flesh-eating reality, internships, entry-level positions and retirement would become the least of anyone’s concerns. We’d all be busy looking for live ammo and securing the perimeter.

No one likes looking for jobs, or filing taxes or the countless other boring tasks adults must perform. Fleeing from flesh-craving monsters isn’t all that great, either. The difference is that only one of these scenarios causes mid-life crises. Reaching mid-life during the zombie apocalypse is a proud accomplishment, not a reason to have an emotionless affair with your secretary.

Zombies don’t sound so bad. Growing up and being an adult sounds boring. On the other hand, destroying the brain sounds awesome. Banding together with other survivors with makeshift weapons sounds great. Reinforcing a station wagon so it can plow through a mob of the undead sounds wonderful.

Zombies would make every day action-packed. Going to the supermarket would no longer be tedious. If “28 Days Later” taught us anything, it’s that grocery shopping with zombies is a jovial, carefree and cost-free experience. At worst, it’s a necessary thrill ride. Apartment hunting takes on a whole new meaning. Who among us wouldn’t rather sleep in shifts to keep a lookout rather than worry if your roommate has his share of the rent?

Suddenly not getting that internship in New York you wanted doesn’t seem so bad. You’ve got a golf bag full of blunt sporting goods ala Casey Jones. Those morons at Washington Mutual can eat a cricket bat.

Being an overqualified Longhorn’s hostess with an anthropology degree is a distant memory now that you’re the lord of the fortress that was once your apartment complex.

Zombies would erase everything aggravating and tedious about life. Sure, there would be new problems, but they wouldn’t be annoying. Maybe doing a grad check is a better chore to have than finding clean water, but the latter sure seems a lot less pointless in the grand scheme of things. This is why our generation is intrigued by zombies. Certain danger is more appealing than uncertain monotony. If life sucks, it should at least be awesome.

Mersmann is a Lawrence senior in creative writing.