Mæg ic be me sylfum I can make a true song
soðgied wrecan, about me myself,
siþas secgan, tell my travels,
hu ic geswincdagum how I often endured
earfoðhwile days of struggle,
oft þrowade, troublesome times,
bitre breostceare [how I] have suffered
gebiden hæbbe grim sorrow at heart
How do we survive the days of struggle? How can we cope with enemies who besiege us from every side? The relentless assault is their primary weapon.
It wears us down.
It helps to remember important things: They’re on the wrong side of history. The majority of people are against them. Those who profit from fear have rigged the rules to win the game — they couldn’t win on merit alone. So they gerrymander districts, campaign on lies and when all else fails, control the media.
Make no mistake: they want you to give up.
What kills is letting it rule you. Fight, be determined but be joyful whenever you can. Concentrate on what you can affect. Look at the grand sweep of history: this is the last gasp of the troglodytes. Yes, they might kill us. I remember the Reagan years and all the beautiful people who died. But they will NOT have my joy even if they kill me. I will laugh in their faces when they do.
Even Apocalypse Girls have Dad’s and mine is a believer in preparation.
He recently got me a wind up torch to keep in the boot of my car. It’s a cheapish one from argos that you can charge by hand winding or through the car cigarette lighter. An essential part of any Apocalypse Girls go bag. 4
This is the one I was given, but there are lots of options out there for a wind up torch.
Here’s the situation: The end is nigh, and you’ve been fortunate enough to be given space in a shelter. You’ve gone into the underground fortress, the doors have been bolted, and the whole thing has been sealed. Outside, storms rain fire upon the land and the seas are boiling, but inside the shelter, you and 899 strangers are able to wait out the blasts, snug as bugs in rugs.
Wait a second. Eight hundred and ninety-nine strangers? Living in 135,000 square feet? Jebus, that’s only 150 square feet for each of us… you can’t even take a city bus without getting frustrated at the smelly old man sitting too close to you, and the woman with the screeching baby, and the drunk teenager vomiting in the back seat. Crap! How long are you stuck in here?!?!
FIVE FREAKING YEARS?!?!
Okay, so a few ground rules will have to be established. Plus, it’ll be hard to repopulate the planet if, upon release, you can’t get away from everyone fast enough and no one want to speak to each other again. So, here are a few:
Suggestions for Surviving the Shelter Experience
- Farting in closed spaces is now normal, considering everywhere you go is a closed space. Get used to the smell, especially after bean night.
- The ugly carpet is only going to look uglier as time passes, but once you go insane, you won’t care about the decor, so that’s something to look forward to.
- The people who live in the room next to you? The ones who are coping with stress through copious amounts of copulation, even though only a curtain separates you? When they reach orgasm, I bet they’d love to hear you scream along. That’d be fun!
- Get a few people together and start an amateur dramatic society, then act out your favourite scenes from thematically-relevant movies like ‘Apocalypse Now’, ‘Road Warrior’, ’28 Days Later’ or ‘Armageddon’. Shake it up by making them musicals.
- It’s okay to pick your nose and eat it, but don’t expect any kisses.
- Water will be strictly rationed so showers are no longer an option, but it’s easier to stomach the stench of body odour if everyone pretends its the newest fragrance from Gucci.
- Only flush toilet paper down the toilets. Please please please remember this rule, now more than ever.
- That woman with the annoying hyena laugh? The one you hear late at night, echoing through the halls? I hate to break it to you, but that’s actually you. Doesn’t the carpet look beguiling tonight?
Ok, I know what you are going to say, you can’t afford a large, lead lined nuclear bunker under your garden, especially as you live in a first floor flat. Fine and fair, but for many of us there is something we can do in terms of preparing a reinforced space to retreat to.
Starting with the obvious. The Garage.
I foyu are fortunate enough to have a garage you may well be like me. My garage is full of the debris of a previous relationship, old tool boxes, gardening stuff and a moulding weights bench. The plan for my garage is simple though. Clear it out, put up some racking make it a useable space. Now my garage even has a power point and lights, so worst come to worst and my home turns out to be no where near zombie proof enough (which I suspect to be the case) then I have somewhere I can retreat to with the cats. What I need is to set it up. That means water, a storage heater, a toilet, food and cat food supplies (things with long expiration dates and circulate into your home restocking into the garage, the little camping stove and gas, sleeping bag and the tool boxes and garden implements can stay for defence. I’ll also need to rig up some means of seeing outside without giving my presence away. That requires more thought.
In a push though it doesn’t have to be a nice big comfortable garage. Line your loft with those heat blankets they use for runners to disguise your body heat from searches and create a little last resort bolt hole up there, even the cupboard under the stairs could be used in this way if needs be, remove the outside handle on the way in and stay quiet till trouble passes.
Take a walk around your home and think, what can you do if aliens or zombies attack and you need to convince them there is no one left alive in your home?