Friday, May 28, 2010

On Waking Up in a Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland

Remain calm. Breathe. Can you breathe? If so, be grateful. Things could be worse. Keep breathing. Count your breaths. If you need a moment or two to adjust, crawl back inside the animal and take some 'me' time. Think happy thoughts about happy places, like Narnia or a big box full of baby otters. Avoid thinking about your loved ones. They are probably dead. Or zombies, which is worse.

Once you've settled down, try to piece things together. How long were you inside the animal? Was the storm that led you to cut open the animal and crawl inside to survive a normal thunder-and-lightning type storm, or was it a nuclear-explosion-wrath-of-God-end-of-the-world type storm? Do you remember a blinding flash of light? Did you get the sense that others were being raptured?

After you've come to grips with the fact that life as you know it has ended, it's time to make a plan. Quickly assess what weapons you have on you and what weapons you can make from readily accessible resources, like ribs. Start setting traps. Practice knife throwing. Make yourself a lair. Slather yourself with dirt and look sullenly off into the distance. Allow a single tear to roll down your cheek for all the countless dead.

Now it's time for the most important question of all: are you comfortable eating human flesh? There are certainly going to be roving bands of cannibals stalking the countryside in ragtag convoys bristling with postapocalyptic weaponry, and the biggest decision you need to make is whether to join one of those bands or heroically battle against them until you are, inevitably, eaten.

I can offer little guidance on this except to say that here at COACISSW we feel that joining any group ever is a slippery slope to socialism. And the only thing worse than a postapocalyptic wasteland is a postapocalyptic wasteland full of commies. So my advice is to stay solo. Crouch a lot. Climb trees. Glare at rocks. And if you have to eat someone, eat one of the damn cannibals, because every survivalist knows eating a cannibal isn't cannibalism. It's justice.


  1. i think you forgot to mention one important fact: that it is impossible for packs of cannibals to resist playing a game of post-apocalyptic baseball. quickly fashion a ball from the animal carcass in which you survived (the ball joint head of a femur covered in raw hide sewn together with sinew). whittle "the destroyer" (a bat of justice) from one of the many trees toppled in the atomic blast. find 8 non-cannibalistic allies who share in the passion of impromptu baseball (remember that people from pittsburgh and germans posing as irish-men are never good at baseball no matter how much they like the mets). then set off on a journey to attempt to gain the respect of every cannibalistic pack through your baseball prowess. if you lose, they will undoubtedly eat you as they will view you as weak and inferior. good luck

  2. "And if you have to eat someone, eat one of the damn cannibals, because every survivalist knows eating a cannibal isn't cannibalism. It's justice."

    Well said!

    A touching story of cannibalism and siblicide in nature

  3. This is quite honestly the only blog that I would pay to read. And this is the best post so far. That last line is so perfect... "every survivalist knows eating a cannibal isn't cannibalism. It's justice." This blog wins everything. You're my "Rick Grimes" dude. Awesome. Keep 'em coming.

  4. Oran and Tinta, thank you for your kind words. I really and truly hope this blog saves your life someday!