Over the past weekend I sort of over did it at a wedding, so instead of riding my bike or golfing on Sunday, I balled up with my blankie and watched some television while the swelling in my brain subsided.
Did you people know that there are television shows highlighting that modern American moron, the “Doomsday Prepper”? These folks have allowed paranoia to overtake them, and in that compromised mental condition have determined that the world is about to end. The interesting and perhaps frightening side of the situation is that they all seem to have a different catastrophe in mind. One particular individual seems to think that there will be a “polar tilt”, while others seem to view an “electromagnetic pulse” from a solar flare as a more likely culprit. Then you have the more traditional simpletons who are convinced that a nuclear attack at the hands of America’s enemies will be the most likely cause. But there is consensus on one particular point of view: we’re all goners and it’s going to happen soon, most likely on December 21, 2012.
Preppers feel that it is their civic duty to survive (I think the baby Jesus may play into this somehow, but I digress), so these “normal Americans” (they all feel the need to repeatedly stress their normalness) are preparing for survival after the end-of-days. One particular couple has stockpiled $300,000 in non-perishable foodstuffs over the past decade. Another of these “normal Americans” has stockpiled hundreds of thousands of seeds so that his little corner of what’s left of Mother Earth can become a veritable cornucopia of fresh fruit, vegetables and flowers. Then there is the couple who are stockpiling what appears to be some of the least healthy foods in the world so that they can continue their march towards congestive heart failure, undisturbed by the apocalyptic goings-on of the surface people.
I found myself laughing at the absurdity of morbidly obese smokers planning to live past a world-ending catastrophe. You’re not going to perish in a nuclear explosion. Nope, your end of days will be the result of a massive heart attack you’ve been training for since you discovered the joy of the Big Mac!
A good friend asked me the other day “How is it that we’ve become so dumb?” and I have to confess that I don’t really know. But I suspect it dates back to the time I first saw George W. Bush as he struggled to say “Ahmadinejad”, and then thought better of it and just blinked.
But these shows started me thinking: am I just an elitist fool doomed to die of radiation poisoning while my simpleton fellow Americans get a “do-over”? Am I endangering my family and the future of the human race? You see, I am clearly going to be needed when we get around to repopulating our new world, because what would the world be without short and stocky bald men who bear, at least according to our editor, an uncanny resemblance to Michael Chickless. What would, or could, I do if there is a solar flare, or if the Cubans really attack like those sneaky bastards did in Red Dawn? What am I to do if Killington actually turns out to be an active volcano? As of this moment things are not looking too rosy for team Wilcox. I’ll be out there with most of you looting for food, water and an open Starbucks. I don’t much care for squirrel, it’s a little stringy and they scratch like hell— I need a plan.
The episodes of the “Doomsday Bunkers” show I watched highlighted a fellow who owns a company that constructs and sells underground steel bunkers. One of the bunkers built on the show was a $50,000 number that came equipped with an electronic periscope and a handrail that served as a flame thrower if unwanted, undead marauders tried to get into the bunker. Another was a $450,000 model with multiple rooms and indoor plumbing, and an $8000 steel door that can withstand a 2 by 4 board shot out of a pneumatic cannon ( I swear that this is true). Where would the undead find a pneumatic cannon or a lumber yard still selling 2 by 4’s, I wondered? Then there was the pyramid-shaped bunker that survived the test of dropping a car on it from about 40 feet off of the ground. I guess that test is designed to demonstrate that these bunkers are Godzilla-proof.
That $50,000 box was actually about 8 x 12 feet without a bathroom, running water, or its own air supply; but I mean, come on kids, this’ll be like a subterranean camping trip where we can eat cold canned food and have lots of time to just talk and sing songs about the “Sun Days” and the day when we can all become sun people…. a dandy plan.
Do I buy a bunker, or should I consider the option offered by the Vivos Group, of Del Mar, California (http://www.terravivos.com/) who, on their website, offers the following:
The accepted solution to most of the threat scenarios is to find underground shelter. The soil of the Earth itself can provide the best shelter for most catastrophes, including a pole shift, super volcano eruptions, solar flares, earthquakes, asteroids, tsunamis, nuclear attack, bio terrorism, chemical warfare and even widespread social anarchy. The governments of the world have been busy building vast underground shelter complexes for the elite. What do they know? The rest of us are on our own, without a long-term survival solution.
The Vivos site also offers a very useful “alert map” detailing all the various catastrophies that are unfolding as you read this. You can also learn about the “Cyrovault”, a program the company offers that assures your genes will be preserved into eternity. And if you don’t have the time or money to build your own shelter, you can even reserve space in one of theirs!
Oh God….they’re right….in fact the Vivos Group knows exactly when the end of days will happen…when I checked their site they provide a countdown timer that read:
274 Days, 18 Hours, 27 Minutes, 36 Seconds Remaining. Folks, that puts us out of here by December 21, 2012, although I’m not certain as to the precise hour because the visionaries and prophets at the Vivos Group didn’t say whether they were using Eastern Standard Time. But let’s be clear – the latest any of us will be around if we don’t get bunkered up will by 4:00 a.m. on December 22, 2012. On the positive side of things I won’t have to waste time Christmas shopping, nor will I have to reserve my ski week after Christmas. But I really don’t like to meet a lot of new people, and what if my bunker mates are creepy or smelly? Plus, what would a smart-mouthed liberal lawyer provide to these “regular” Americans except to serve as livestock for when the “Beefaroni” runs low?
I guess we’re probably stuck on our own.
So I ordered our bunker – a beauty that looks like a tank on one of those gasoline trucks you sometimes see at the local gas station. It ran me a cool $79,000, but the manufacturer promises that this baby is “Built Submarine Tough to be Underground Tough – ready to install.” It can easily hold my family and can be clustered together so maybe I can get a few neighbors to join in as we start our new lives as mole people. The manufacturer put it best:
Many people ask us how could one survive a major disaster, whether natural or man-made or a combination thereof. One way nature protects its critters is getting them under ground. Ground hogs and ants are good examples. They have been around for a long time. So has nature.
Who are they calling “critters”?
This got me to wondering just how to stock The Tuberosa (I’m so excited I already named the new place). I mean, just how many ramen noodle packs and cases of canned salmon will it take to keep my family alive in a $80,000 welded steel tube buried out behind the shed while the rest of you saps hunt dogs and then each other for food. I’ve been secretly buying huge bags of rice at the BJ’s Club and lots of beef jerky. I’m going to need lots of candles, flashlights, blankets, pillows, and cases of batteries. Oh, and at least 4 gallons of water a day each member of my family of four. Hey, hold on a second. How big does the bunker have to be? In a year we would need 4380 ramen noodle packs, 2920 cans of tuna, and the same number of fruit cocktail plus 17520 gallons of clean water – give or take – since the average bathtub holds 24 gallons of water….that would mean that the bunker would need a water storage capacity equal to 730 bathtubs. I’m not sure we could fit 730 bathtubs in my house. What about, you know, bathroom time. Hey wait….my tube doesn’t have a bathroom or a flat screen. Maybe the do-it-yourself approach isn’t feasible either. I’d rather not drop $450,000 to build a luxury bunker because my real estate agent doesn’t think a bunker will bring a matching return when I sell the place and move into senior housing.
We had a family meeting and we decided that we would sell our bunker and go it alone. I’m still getting the guns because if I’m going to be a member of zombie nation I intend to be a really bad-assed zombie. Now, just a minor disclaimer: if you live in a place where the high school mascot is called “Tornado Tony” and every couple of years you and the family have to ride out a storm in the root cellar….well hell folks….you DO need an underground shelter. Wanna buy mine?
Good Luck everyone!