A zombie astral, in voodoo, is a soul at the command of a sorcerer. Sometimes I wonder if my entire generation is such.
They obsess about awkwardness, live their lives to appease others, have no vision of their own and do the bidding of their parents, teachers, and government without any passion. They push drugs to glassy-eye themselves and fall in to trances. They have no real root, and no real destination, they seem to wander the earth forever. They invent nothing, and imitate much. They are spoken harshly to, as otherwise nothing will happen, and seem to respect nothing but force.
Teachers tell them to love multiculturalism, and they do. Teachers tell them to love socialism, and they do. Teachers demand "volunteer hours," forcing them in to manual labor, and they comply. Teachers tell them to be liberal, and they are. And if the press says a man is a "great leader," they line up right beside him.
They don't fight, don't even really seem to whine much. They just sit there, until someone screams at them. They don't seem to speak, don't seem to think. They just sit there, until someone tells them what to do or what to say.
Good sorcerer, whoever you may be, please, release them from your spell.