Last week, we talked about post-apocalyptic pregnancy. This week, we move on to labor and delivery.
Again, the caveat: I am not a medical professional, midwife, or a doula. I’m writing this from the perspective of someone who’s given birth to two children.
Ready? Here we go! Continue reading “Post-apocalyptic childbirth”
So, when the power goes out and the liquor has run down, someone might get horny.
This brings me back to that episode of Seinfeld when Elaine’s favorite contraceptive is discontinued and she goes out and buys as much of it as she can. But then she rations it. She judges men more carefully and while she might like a guy, she also has to determine if they’re truly “sponge worthy.”
We must remember to invest in some of our baser needs to stave off maddness. But we can’t just start doing every Tom, Dick, and Harry who offers a leer because it’s good for our state of minds. That’s how you create Super Aids, Syphilmidia, and Babies. We need to be able to indulge and ration.
Solution: Invest in an Emergency Sex Kit. Continue reading “Survival Sex Kit (not safe for some works)”
We cover all sorts of apocalypses here at In Case of Survival.
We aren’t ones to shy away from the unusual, the strange, the just plain weird.
And it’s always struck me as just plain odd that the most commonly talked about and prepared for apocalypse is Zombies, which- no matter how various books try to science it up- has it’s roots in an undeniably supernatural origin.
So Zombies are fine, (probably because they’ve got huge pop-culture capital right now) but ask any of these same people about other supernatural apocalypses- werewolves, vampires, hell, even ghosts- and they would scoff and called you a ‘fucking fucktard fuck’ because this is the internet.
But if Zombies are possible with a little pseudo-science massage, why not the others?
And what the hell do we do to survive when the cause of the apocalypse is dead and can walk through walls?
In the early post-apocalyptic days, it might seem ridiculous to think about having children. But you’re going to have to think about it at some point. If you don’t have kids, the human race is doomed anyway, so what would’ve been the point of surviving the apocalypse?
So. Babies. I’m going to skip over the mechanics of actually making them (pretty sure we all know how that works). Instead, I’m going to focus on the nine-month flu and the painful act of trying to rip a watermelon out of a peanut. Since there’s a lot of material to cover, I’ll split them into two posts. This week, I’ll be talking about the post-apocalyptic pregnancy.
Caveat: I am not a medical professional, midwife, or a doula. I am, however, the mother of two, for whatever that’s worth.
Ready? Let’s begin.
Continue reading “Post-apocalyptic pregnancy: A basic primer”
Everyone has their eyes on zombies. Even while IBM’s Watson is creeping on the game-show circut lulling us all into a false sense of security at his humorous inability to listen AND compute.
[1. For more Watson videos, check out the IBM YouTube page.]
Cute, huh? No, not cute. Subversive!
While zombies merely wish to feast on your flesh and convert you to one of the horde, robots are more analytical and thoughtful in their interactions. They might enslave us, turn us into fuel for their super machines, experiment on us, Or just slaughter us wholesale because we take up too much space and serve no useful purpose.
I recently had a conversation with a computer with some very disturbing results. It went like so:
Continue reading “Robot Uprising Apocalypse: "Killing" Robots”
Yesterday I went on a long walk with my husband, practicing for the apocalypse. We packed long-dated, easily eaten things and we hunted-gathered while we were there, picking up freshly fallen hazel nuts and eating them along the way.
The problem came on the way home.
I was so exhausted my eyes were closing of their on accord.
I could barely walk, although home was only 40 minutes away.
So we ruined the whole thing and stopped off for a pub lunch.
But there will be no pub lunches after the apocalypse. Pub lunches will not exist. So what can a lazy girl like me do?
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.
Continue reading “A clumsy girl's guide to surviving the apocalypse.”
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.)
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?
This is going to be an unusually serious post. I debated saying anything- I haven’t touched previous political hot issues, because I don’t think that’s what this blog is about.I also don’t like the sense that in some way I may be profiting (not monetarily, we get nothing for this site, but in terms of new readers) from these awful occurences. But this particular disaster not only hits close to home, but also brings the advice we give here into sharp relief. We may not present our information in a serious way, we may think that serious survivalists will get almost nothing from our site: But we genuinely want you to surive disasters of all kind, and if something we can say can help, we’ll be very glad. So here it goes.
