Explanation: I've read a lot of science fiction, some of it fairly apocalyptic end-of-the-world type science fiction (which people in populous societies - especially young people - tend to be irresistibly fascinated with, for reasons that should be obvious). And I've learned quite a bit from those books about living in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, mainly that living in the rubble after the collapse of civilization is not so bad if you are a firearms expert with a lifetime of survivalist training, or if you are a mutant with psychic powers.
So when I muse and ponder about what we would do in the aftermath of Armageddon, which I often do, I usually begin the story with the survivalist tactics, acquiring water and food and weapons, and then after some deeper thought, an honest appraisal of my weapons handling experience (juggling knives), physical stamina (not good), and feelings about un-refrigerated food (canned beans only), the story tends to focus on the bare minimum of mutant superpowers we would require to maintain our standard of living at the end of the world. Also some helpful robot servants, shown here accompanying the family on our wanderings. One of the robots would have a fridge compartment in their torso, with a filtered water tap, and the other would shoot lasers out of their eyes. I don't know how they would maintain their power supply - ah ha! Mutant superpower number 1: Psychic battery recharging.
The giant magic rabbit could step in with cleaning tasks when the robots were busy. I am pictured on the far right wearing the outfit which is for me the most pleasant aspect of the fantasy; my cozy bathrobe and sweatpants, and a backpack full of snacks. My imagination gets a little hazy on many of the details of our perambulations through the ruins, but the bathrobe and sweats and snacks are always high res. Then I usually wonder how I'd clean them (as well as the socks and underwear) and end up praying that they invent self cleaning fabric right before catastrophe strikes. That problem solved, we continue our journey as pictured, wearing our magically clean robes, my kids in their favorite animal costumes, the robots and the magic bunny amusing us with various shenanigans. I usually imagine my wife learning plant lore before the journey sometime, and brewing medicinal potions each night, to help me forget my grief over the end of baseball, while I would learn to control people or zombie's minds like Professor X or the kid in Game of Thrones. And just as I've arranged our survival in the Wasteland satisfactorily, after a great deal of mental effort, I usually drift off to sleep
No comments:
Post a Comment