The world is falling apart at the seams. Wars, famine, global warming and now, the fricken ebola virus threatens our existence as a species.
Change the channel and your’ll find another crisis; Ukraine, Gaza, or a Fukishima reactor meltdown. Even our “fun” television shows and movies warn us of a dystopian future full of Sharknados and Walking Dead, where our salvation depends upon the virtues of a Neo, Katniss Everdeen, Corbin Dallas, or Snake Pliskin.
Predictions of a vast empty wasteland are everywhere, telling us how the survivors of the (plague, bomb, corporate greed, zombies, radioactive medical waste, a dirty bomb, or stale girl scout cookies – Insert your end of times prediction here), battle one another for precious life sustaining resources. Deny it all you want, these plagues of madness are approaching, they aren’t disappearing and it’s only a matter of time until these threats knock on our doors.
Well, that’s an uplifting thought, isn’t it? So, what are we to do? The thought of my survival being dependent upon a love-struck girl with a bow and arrow, isn’t all that comforting. Like many of you out there, I want to take some control over my future and prevent my brains from being the main course at an all night zombie buffet.
My research (watching a couple of episodes of Doomsday Preppers) introduced me to Preppers, people who prepare for what they see as the inevitable Doomsday and end of civilization as we know it.
Preppers, as the name implies, prepare and gather supplies to survive Armageddon. Underground bomb shelters, escape routes, water purification systems, preserved food, enough weapons and ammunition to defend the Alamo, coupled with harsh isolation are the common elements in Prepper shelter systems. Preppers may be mistaken for hoarders, if not for the obsessive-compulsive personality traits found in most survivalist communities.
Having listened to the expert survivalists, there is no real agreement on the exact nature of the threat we will face, but most seem content with the notion of scurrying down into a bunker to ride out the disaster.
I’m not keen on the idea of burying myself underground, relegated to a life of fruit roll ups, canned beans and kale chips. I have visions of a Donner Party themed feast as Preppers start reducing their numbers, one by one. I draw the line at gnawing on another person’s arm. That makes for awkward dinner conversation.
So, a plan started to come together for my own Doomsday prep. I’m going to high ground. Everyone is going to be rushing out of the cities. I hate traffic, so I’ll go the other direction, into the city and head for the highest ground. High ground, as in a suite in a Las Vegas hotel. The view should be great from a penthouse to watch the events unfold. Granted room service won’t be available, but there will be a whole hotel of mini-bars to scavenge.
How Can You Tell if You’re a Hardcore Prepper?
1. Do your family pets also serve as an emergency food source?
2. Have you developed a fondness for the slightly gamey taste of medium rare raccoon?
3. Does your survival plan involve a high fiber diet while sealed within an air tight steel bunker?
4. Does that sack of flour also serve as a pillow and your “special cuddle buddy?”
5. Do you have a plan to drink your own urine?
6. Have you liquidated your 401k and converted it to toilet paper?
If you responded yes to any of these questions, then you, my friend, are a Prepper.
I can’t be a Prepper, but I will survive in my 800 count cotton pillow fortress.