Last night, many Sapporos danced
Last night, many Sapporos danced upon my head. The Gods may be propitiated. Perhaps not. I don't know. I spent the evening trimming the plastic and foil from two-pack samples of Cipro and one-pack samples of Levaquin. I await the arrival of my supply of Potassium Iodide. Woo-hoo! Two broad-spectrum antibiotics and an iodine compound intended to prevent the absorption of radioative iodine into the thyroid after a nuclear event. I'm assembling a portable ten-day supply of each for myself and my significant other, along with an EAVAC-U8 smoke hood, a mini Maglite, a thousand calories' worth of Clif bars, and a Motorola T289 radio. All of which is intended to lend a helping hand with the odds on the event of yet another ass-Qaeda catastrophe in Manhattan.
The Cipro and Levaquin will help with nasty aerosolized bugs supplied by Iraq. The Potassium Iodide will assist in combating the long-term effects of radioactive fallout from devices supplied by Iran and built with German components. The smoke hood will supply 20 minutes of breathable air should the need to escape down the stairwell of a skyscraper filled with burning jet fuel present itself. The mini Maglight will assist in navigating said stairwell or traversing subsurface subway tunnels to avoid the worst effects of fallout on the way out of Manhattan. Clif bars will supply needed energy in an easily portable form. I can use the radio to talk to my sweetie and arrange meeting places beneath the city (unless the radio gets fried by the EMP.)
Clearly I'm grooving on the doomsday, chuckling into the irrational fear that people who don't live here try to tell me is "What They Want." Whatever, to that I say, whatever. I think that what they want is to kill us. Fear is incidental. Packing up antibiotics and iodine compounds makes me feel better; that's good. I work in a tall building: I'll be able to get down a smoke filled-stairwell. That's good, too, and practical besides. Maglights are handy in all sorts of ways. And the Clif bars may provide a snack some day. All good reasons to carry such items. Not the real reasons, of course. But when I used to commute into Manhattan from Jersey City five years ago, using the PATH line that's now been erased from the PATH system maps, I thought about assembling the exact same group of items, to use if I needed to escape the dread island. Turns out that I might.
