Steve Jobs is dead. The passion, the wonder, the intuition, the drive, all gone. There will be echoes, his razor sharp influence rebounding across the world of the living, each reflection more diffuse, finally a fading note. That is the moment you should make sure you have close at hand a shotgun and a shovel, if you want to survive. Because my friends, I tell you as sure as entropy, It is coming: The Steve Jobs Zombie Apocalypse Questing for the brains they need for sustenance, they shuffle towards you, what remains of their arms outstretched. All of them transformed into evil flesh eating zombies by a demon in their own minds, the ghostly image of Steve Jobs. Sincere flattery begets wave after wave of creeping corruption. Torn blue jeans moldy black turtlenecks rotting mouths frozen in mocking smiles. They all walk alike, almost looking human, but radiating malice. They will leave a trail of destruction, and broken humanity, if we do not stop them right now.