Apocalypse bunkers are dumb. They are expensive ways of ensuring your corpse will be found in a box filled with dried beans and canned soup.
California-based company Vivos is selling bunkers at bargain basement prices that they claim will allow the average America to survive the apocalypse.
For a five grand deposit, a middle-class paranoid can reserve a spot in the Vivos 100, a massive, underground fortress that can house 1,000 people… and keep them alive in the event of an “extinction-level event” like an asteroid hitting the Earth or a giant, radioactive lizard-gorilla on a rampage.
Vivos started out offering luxury bunkers to the rich and famous, but a recent surge in demand prompted them to begin selling spots in vast doomsday motels that have yet to be built, but will, according to Vivos, be able to withstand a 20-megaton nuclear blast within six miles.
There is a catch, however. Vivos only grants six months of “autonomous” survival to second-class survivalists, while those in the high-end bunkers get a full year of suffering.
If you want to waste your money reserving space on a death ark, go right ahead. You could also just make sure you have some supplies, fresh water, and a hand-crank radio handy. A shotgun wouldn’t hurt. I would say that prayer probably works as well as a bunker when it comes to your security, especially when “acts of an angry God” are involved.
Another word for “bunker” is “deathtrap.” Spending tens of thousands of dollars to build a subterranean lair under your house is just a security-blanket, albeit a steel-reinforced security blanket.
Provided the nuclear blast or tsunami or zombie horde doesn’t kill you on your mad scramble to your bunker, then you’ll probably have months of sitting in what amounts to large coffin with a chemical toilet.
Let’s say your oxygen continues pumping and “cabin fever” hasn’t reduced you and you family into babbling savages. You’re basically sealed up nice and tight.
Well, once the post-apocalyptic biker gangs start combing the ruins of civilization for plunder, you know what they’re going to call bunkers? “Cans of human.” A crowbar, a blowtorch, a chain hooked to the blast-door and then to the chassis of a tricked-out doom truck would all do the trick.
Americans are in love with the end-of-the-world, because the apocalypse would be the ultimate reboot of human civilization. A potential, morbid opportunity to let go of the annoying burdens of modern life, and rebuild the world.
To fear the apocalypse is to hope for it’s aftermath, when the world will be simpler. Forget mortgages, and careers. All you’ll need in this bleak future is a nail-studded baseball bat and and a pair of goggles.
If you want to live longer, don’t drink so many milkshakes. Quit smoking. Go for a walk. Because there is no way to guarantee you’ll survive full-out thermonuclear war or a super volcano. There’s no reason to worry about a future like this.
If a tidal wave of lava is coming your way, then it’s just your day to die. If you survive the asteroid, you’re best bet to live a few more months is to stay mobile, find a chainsaw and wear a hockey mask.