In Case of Survival Will be at New York Comic Con!

Check us out; we’ve made it to the regional time!
A representative of the Safety and Survival Council will be running amok at New York Comic Con this October collecting all the latest in entertainment pertaining to zombies, the apocalypse, comics, and more.
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Blog awards

I’m going to take a minute out of our heavy schedule of obsessively watching the news for zombie outbreaks to tell you that someone has FINALLY acknowledged how awesome we are by giving the blog an award or two.

They come from over at TheCabinGoddess, who gave us The Versatile Blogger award and the Liebster award.
Neither of them come with any money, but the same part of me that gets happy over achievements on 360 games is giggling and jumping up and down.
But apparently there are rules about being given them and I have to do some meme-y junk. So I’m just going to go ahead and MAKE IT UP.
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A clumsy girl's guide to surviving the apocalypse.

I have recently been talking a lot with fellow Apocalypse obsessive and friend of ICoS, Jess Shanahan. You may remember her from this guest post, and if you saw it, my guest post over at her blog. Anyway, Jess is very like me. We even live nearby, and as a result have started Apocalypse training (running) together.
One major thing we have in common is this: we are very clumsy girls. I can fall over myself, if nothing else is there to trip me up. I have succesfully become injured after spending a whole day in ed in my pyjamas. I got out to go the the loo, wrapped myself in my sheets by accident, and nearly brained myself on the chest of drawers. It’s not normal clumsiness: It’s the type that gets you killed. I mentioned this to Jess, and she said that running outside was clearly a danger to us, as we’d get chased by murderers and trip on a tree root and die, and I thought two things. The first thought was thank FUCK someone else out there is as insane as I am; The second was- with this lethal level of clumsiness, how are we going to survive the apocalypse?
It would be sods law if after all this preparation I died because I tripped over a shoelace.
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What do you do if your mom is a zombie?

We’ve talked quite a bit about zombie survival. You know, how to keep zombies from invading your settlement, how to keep zombies from chasing you down and eating you, and how to toss those really annoying people who just won’t quit whining over the wall into the zombie encampment. (Well, maybe not that last one. But you know you thought about it.)
But what if the zombie is someone who’s close to you? Maybe someone who’s part of your survival group? Or—gasp—someone who’s part of your family?
And not the annoying great-aunt who gives you tacky reindeer sweaters at Christmas and force-feeds you fruitcake after kissing you while making fishy lips, either. No, we’re talking close relatives here. You know, your mom or dad (if you’re on speaking terms with them), your sibling (ditto), your spouse, or your kids. And what about your best friend? Having your best friend try to attack you and make you lunch just might be worse than watching your mother turn into a brain-eating undead humanoid.
Don’t get me wrong, having your mother turn into a zombie can also be pretty bad. Especially if you’re a kid. Like this little girl here, who wakes up one morning to find that zombies have invaded her town. And instead of making her breakfast, her mother is now trying to have her for breakfast. (Crappy, that.)
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Post-Apocalyptic Graphic Novels (Comics): Y The Last Man

*This whole post contains spoilers for most of Volume 1 of Y: The Last Man*

In Y: The Last Man Yorick is the last man alive on Earth after a random, sudden thing kills all the men in all the world, and shit if I don’t wish he’d just kill himself so those poor women could just wither in peace.
Never before have I been so against a protagonist’s survival. He’s so dumb in a gross know-it-all way that I want him to get shot by the heavily stereotyped Republicans’ wives. I want his poor monkey, Ampersand, to run away and maybe be the father of a new human-monkey hybrid species of the future. I want anything but for stupid Yorick to continue being a walking, preachy, tropey, asshole.
Frist there’s: “Wahh, I’m in love and that’s important.”
Then he’s all: “You women need to band together and act like civilized last people alive and do our forefathers proud.”
(Lady President promptly shut him up saying: “These women have suffered more than you can imagine. They don’t deserve to be lectured by a self-righteous child.[1. That, unlike the others, is actually a direct quote from issue #3]”)
Then he’s like: “I get that people are actively trying to kill me but I don’t want to hide from them. They’re just angry women. Is that a bear? Let’s poke it with this stick to check.”
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Post-apocalyptic Politics: The Death Penalty


I’m going to continue Char and ann’s death talk trend this week. Especially since just yesterday I had to extinguish a life for crossing me wrong.
Now, mind you, this life was attached to a spider who’d mistakenly made its way into my bag and probably couldn’t have gotten out if it wanted to. But it was huge and aggressive looking and in MY bag. Spiders can do as they please in the great outdoors but in my bag, in an office building, in the city? You’re gonna die.
This minor infraction[1. To some people who give a shit about spiders and don’t mind reaching blindly into their dark bag to reach back out with a meaty little eight legged monster attached to their arm.], a wrong turn in the wrong neighborhood, resulted in Devil Spider’s vilification and eventual death. Would I have done the same if I had the means and found someone trespassing in my safe spot whilst trying to survive?[2. Not likely. Maybe. Hard to say, really.]
In survival situations we know there will be non-mutated predators simply out to take advantage of those weaker than they are, and we know there will be times when we’ll have to weigh the value of someone else’s life against “the greater good.” But when it comes to consequences for crimes and trespasses against us, how do we determine severity.
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Grieving post apocalypse

It’s a matter of post apocalyptic fact. You are going to lose someone you love. Parents, children, partners- maybe even just a pet. The apocalypse will steal them from you, break your heart. And it won’t just be in the initial chaos of the end of the world- it’ll happen in the back-breaking grind of immediate survival. It’ll even happen when your safe (ish) and settled (ish).
People are going to die, and probably much sooner than you would expect.
And you can’t afford to be distant and prostrate with sorrow. So what can you do?
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Is it murder or euthanasia?

So. The apocalypse has happened. You and your family—and maybe your friends—have survived the initial apocalyptic event, whatever it happens to be. Now your little group has moved into survival stage. Everyone does what they can to help, to make sure you all make it through the chaos alive.
That’s great, right? Everybody pitches in, and you’ll all live to tell the grandkids what it was like when the world exploded and everybody died (at least until the zombies came knocking).
But what if not everyone in your group can contribute? What if someone’s severely injured, or has a pre-existing debilitating condition like cancer or Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s or epilepsy? Will that person survive for long? Can that person survive for long?
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Post-Apocalyptic Fashion: The Shoes You Have

I bought a cute pair of shoes the other day. They made me sooo happy… until I wore them. Then, I wanted to bring them to life like Pinocchio just so I could beat them to death.
What if I’d had to out run something? What if my train had stopped in the middle of God-Knows-Where and I’d had to walk or hike or bushwhack? I’d have probably taken the shoes off and gone barefoot.
I felt legitimate visceral Hate[1. yes, with a capital H] for these shoes. So much so that I shoved them in the back of the closet as soon as I got home to prevent myself from accidentally saving them or slipping them on in a fire.
Sure, I’ve said it is important to live with small inconveniences now to help yourself in the long run. This is why I didn’t complain while they were on[5. Complainers go to the wolves]. I suffered in villainous silence, plotting the ruination of those tow-abusing monstrosities.
Another thing I did? I went home and reevaluated my shoe collection and organization. If you have, as I do, a metric shit ton of shoes, you’ll want to consider keeping them in different places. Specifically, some shoes should be by your major exits. I realize to some organized people this is blasphemous. But there is good reason for this:

  • If you keep all your shoes in your shoe closet in your hall/bedroom/guestroom/place that’s not the exit itself,  you run the risk of leaving your home without them if you leave in a hurry.
  • Choice is not always what you need. Sometimes you just need to know you’re weather ready and shoed.

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A Mini-Review of Contagion

 
I watched Contagion this weekend with Husband. Duh, I loved it. It wasn’t a hype machine for crazy-pants pseudo -science or mutants or zombies. It was crazy-pants really, real.
Unlike most of the post-apocalyptic stories we see in entertainment, there was an unsettling realism to Contagion. The fear that was so easily fueled and exploited just made sense. There are enough people in the world with enough mistrust to easily create chaos unrelated to the  direct source of danger.
The movie followed a number of people in different places as far as the virus’ path, place in society, and ability actually do something for themselves or others.
It was interesting (and disturbing) seeing the little things break people down faster then the actual virus. The idea that the dead were only about 1%, give or take, of the population (maybe, as they only alluded to it), was scary.  Society just fell apart.  That’s one (maybe two) out of every one hundred people…
I might sound insensitive but, I honestly didn’t think I’d notice. The thing isn’t how long it would take us to notice though, it’s how long it would take the government to respond. Once they start hiding the President and organizing the national guard people start too panic.
We only know what we see on the news and we assume the government knows so much more than we do. We assume they know about science, suspects, cures, and have more than enough food for almost everyone. We assume they, like we would, well take care of their family and friends first and everyone else will have to prove themselves. When we take a good, hard look at ourselves we’ll realize that we probably don’t have the whatever-it-is that someone’s looking for when they decide to save a life at the expense of long term planning for people they actually give a shit about.
Contagion was more about the infectious nature of rhetoric and rumors than the damage done by actual the virus itself.
I say it’s definitely worth the watch but maybe not worth the money to see it in a theater.