To carry forward a conversation, no make that two welded into this one thought, for all the poke-fun-snigger-laugh exterior I usually exhibit at situations like this, there's a secret bit inside that really wants to watch an alien invasion. Look up at the sky suddenly and there's this ring of blue light. Wrestling with tentacular uglies. Whoa. Or Godzilla, choosing the right car in a split second, crawling underneath and watching the van next to you get trampled. Or something along the Nessie-yeti territory, these tendencies have been responsible for so much, watching a meteor shower on the terrace, that fox skull, all this paranoia, even this scifi course: it'll kill me eventually, I know it. But maybe I'll survive, eh? No actual knowledge, just this thing, wanting to witness and surviving to tell the tale, much the same way I'd give anything to survive Gozilla. An all that makes us human instance. No zombies though, that's just weird in the way all undead-related episodes are. Trust me, I know.