Kevin Brennan Writes About What It's Like
So, vis-à-vis my shudder-provoking thoughts the other day about the coming apocalypse, how should one behave when the end is clearly nigh yet we’re expected to go on about our business as productive citizens of the greatest country on Earth?
• First, be sure that you’re sufficiently insured and that your policies are paid up. It’s just plain obvious that you’re going to be making a claim at some point, thanks either to a natural disaster or to some unforeseeable act perpetrated by your Trump-inspired neighbor. You won’t be able to sue him for setting your heritage oak on fire, since he’s practically destitute and has many guns, but at least you’ll get some comfort money from Allstate.
• Stay in as much as possible. Let’s face it, most bad things happen out there. If Kim Jong Un explodes an H bomb over the Pacific, your roof and walls won’t protect you from the radiation cloud, but at least you’ll be amid your own things and you can watch Curb Your Enthusiasm as you sicken and die.
• When you do go out, vary your travel routes so you can’t be easily followed. Remember, they’re out to get you. Don’t make it easy for them.
• Encourage your children to learn skills that will be necessary in the “future.” These will include making fire, foraging for edibles, and knowing how to kill a man by hitting him in the nose just right. I’m sure there are websites for this.
• Get active. There’s not much you can do about the apocalyptic forces all around, but you can definitely speak up and be heard. Write increasingly shrill letters to your representatives – many of whom actively caused this cataclysm. Remind them that they work for you. Give all the money you want to political organizations, since money will be useless before long and you might as well throw it around beforehand. Why not?
• Start working on that bunker.
• Attend community meetings, where everyone will pretend to want to work together as the whole thing turns to shit. It’ll make you feel better. The idea that there could be organized food banks and child care, neighborly pet sitting, and even recreational activities when the social collapse is upon us is comforting. It won’t happen, but it’s comforting to hope that it will.
• And while you’re there, you can start identifying the people who will likely give you the most trouble. You will want to steer clear of them, or be proactive and take them out just as things start to get bad. Don’t forget: you’ll probably be identified as trouble by someone else, so take evasive precautions.
• Finally, try to have a little fun. When obliteration is a given and there’s nothing you can do to avoid it, why not exercise your funny bone a little bit? Practical jokes are always popular. Prank calls. Leaving excrement-filled, burning bags on your Trump-inspired neighbor’s doorstep. Use your imagination! The main thing is to distract yourself from certain annihilation, and, while you’re at it, brighten up someone else’s day too.
Well, that’s about all I can think of right now, but we still have time to come up with a lot of other great ways to get through the Great Apocalypse of 2017/18.
Or … do we?