Holly on why unicorns are better than zombies.
Holly on why hope is a good thing.
But my latest post at Babel Clash is a bit more serious, because it’s about apocalypse survival. You’ll see at the bottom why it’s so important at the moment, so I repost it here:
In my last post we discussed the zombie-survival-suitability of various architectural masterpieces, in particular Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin. But what happens if the zombie apocalypse goes down while you’re reading Zombies Versus Unicorns at home? ARE YOU PREPARED?
Take a moment to look through your abode, and rate it for zombie-survival characteristics. Do you have food? Water? Weapons? Strong doors? Better to find out now what you’re lacking, rather than waiting for the zombie apocalypse or the (relatively unlikely) natural disaster/terror attack/meteorite strike.
I’ve done a quick survey of my Sydney flat, to help you get started:
Remember the old saying: humans last three weeks without food, three days without water, three minutes without oxygen. How much water do you have around?
I’ve got two liters of water in the fridge, and 17 bottles of wine. (Um, good for disinfectant.) But the bathtub can be filled before city water dribbles to a halt, and the average bathtub holds about 200 liters (when full to the brim).
Minimum survival requirement are 3 liters per day per person, but I’ll say 4 for cooking that pasta (times two of us), so we have about 25 days after the apocalypse before we are forced to go outside, plus whatever rain we collect. With a bit of scrimping, we can JUST make the 28 Days Later scenario.
HOWEVER: In summer, Sydney can get up to 35C (95F), a temperature at which daily water requirements double. Pray for a winter apocalypse!
Ten cans of beans and tomatoes, and cans last FOREVER. (Save them for currency!)
Several kilos of polenta, pulses, and pasta. Well done, me.
Lots of cheese and vegetables to eat before the pasta and polenta diet begins.
An astonishing amount of herbs and spices, and some mango chutney. Don’t laugh. For 300 years in the Ottoman Empire, the price of pepper was fixed at its weight in gold. In the post-apocalypse, Tabasco will be liquid platinum!
A “vanilla butter luxury cake” made last night.
Cinchona bark for making home-made tonic water. Full of quinine! No malaria here, dudes.
Overall, our food will run out more or less when the water does. But we’ll probably want to make a run for it in three weeks or so, while we still have the strength to clobber.
Um, not so good here.
A set of Furi knives that are great for chopping, not so much for braining.
Two CO2 canisters for carbonating home-made tonic. Can swiftly be converted into short-range rockets, unless Mythbusters has lied.
Excellent news here:
Top floor of eight-story building.
Security gate on apartment door.
Stairwell door well locked.
Elevator needs electronic fob to activate.
Only one other tenant on floor. Easily subdued. (He listens to Elton John. I can take him, especially if he’s already dead.)
Short-wave radio, for listening to those last transmissions from Julia Gillard’s bunker or the Center for Disease Control.
Lots of remotes with half-used batteries in them. (WELL DONE, SIR!)
Meade 8″ Telescope, for street recon from the balcony. (And for calculating the equinox after the calendar notebook gets lost.)
A garage full of cars to steal for our eventual getaway to zombie-free Tasmania!
In all, I think we have a chance. So what apocalypse provisions and defenses do you have at your humble abode? ARE YOU PREPARED?
As I write this, it so happens, people up in Queensland, Australia are experiencing a real apocalypse, flooding that has killed eight people, displaced tens of thousands, and had dire economic consequences. So yes, this survival stuff can be real. To help them out, go here and donate.