They come out at night …
… in search of brains …
… and the Center For Disease Control wants you to know what to do in the event of a zombie invasion.
Maybe the whole idea came from all those pepperoni pizzas washed down with way too much Mountain Dew, but the CDC put out a blurb outlining preparedness steps when the undead come a-calling.
Seriously. Check it out. Here’s the link.
“The rise of zombies in pop culture has given credence to the idea that a zombie apocalypse could happen.” wrote CDC official Ali Khan. “In such a scenario zombies would take over entire countries, roaming city streets eating anything living that got in their way. The proliferation of this idea has led many people to wonder ‘How do I prepare for a zombie apocalypse?’ “
One of the first things I think of immediately is that the CDC is a governmental function, and they’re screwing off on taxpayer time. But this CDC announcement may actually make more sense than just about any other governmental release. Well, kinda sorta.
“Well, we’re here to answer that question for you, and hopefully share a few tips about preparing for real emergencies too,” Khan continues.
OK. Now we’re cooking. Khan then outlines some preparedness procedures that could serve you well in a pandemic, a hurricane, or zombie invasion.
Craziness aside, what I get from my reading is that it’s hard to sell preparedness to the public. Hurricanes are not sexy enough. Earthquakes don’t have that “it” factor. Even a multi-angled event such as a Katrina (featuring disasters such as a hurricane, massive flooding, societal breakdown and FEMA) and Japan’s recent earthquake/tsunami/nuclear trifecta aren’t enough to sway the populace in the semi-civilized world.
The CDC rationale, it seems, is to come up with something really over the top to garner public attention — such as a zombie takeover. It is unbelievably tempting for me to say something about how the zombies already took over several years ago and were the difference-maker in the 2008 Presidential election, but I’m not gonna say it. I’m not gonna say it.
Later with these pedestrian hurricanies, tsunami, nuclear mutant monsters from Japan, and even space aliens. All of these have been done to death, and in our ADHD culture, you’ve got to hit the public hard, frequently, and from a variety of angles.
I can understand that complacency, somewhat. I grew up in California, the place where visitors and new arrivals get scared because of earthquakes. Well, there are a lot of other scary things about California, but right now I’m just going to key on earthquakes. To a new arrival, any shaking of the ground is enough to trigger a full-blown panic attack. However, it takes a Richter Scale hit of at least six-something to move the longtime resident. Don’t pester me over a little trembling; if dishes fly out of the cupboards, then call me.
As far as construction goes, whole metro areas are built along earthquake fault lines. The Inland Empire, which for decades saw the fastest growth of any area in California, is nestled along the San Andreas and San Jacinto Faults. The San Jac passed underneath the a) the freeway interchange of I-10 and I-215 that had some pretty big skyhooks, b) the men’s department of Fedco, and c) the San Bernardino Valley College campus. Did I worry about getting caught in the mother of all earthquakes during my classes at Valley? Not at all. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t.
I now live near Charleston, South Carolina, known to outsiders as hurricane country. Every year we go through the same drill here — pick up a hurricane tracking map at the Piggly Wiggly, and make noises about putting together a plan. Which usually never comes off. Here, life goes on. We watch the hurricanes develop in the Atlantic, note that for a moment Charleston is named the primary target, then relax when the hurricane takes its usual dogleg right turn. We do have an evacuation every decade or so, but the last hurricane of any real consequence to hit the Lowcountry was Hugo in 1989. Since then the wreckage was cleared out, the sea islands were built back up, and everything went back to normal.
For the record, I do have a skeletal emergency plan in case the Son Of Hugo blows the roof off my mobile home. I have a backpack loaded with clothing sleeping bag, rope and tarp, plus some prepackaged rations I’m starting to collect. This is really in anticipation of a hike I’m planning, but if something weird happens before then (fire? Flood? The PC Police knocking at my door?) it’s nice to know I’m somewhat prepared.
Standard survival items, straight from the CDC, include:
* Water (1 gallon per person per day)
* Food (stock up on non-perishable items that you eat regularly)
* Medications (this includes prescription and non-prescription meds)
* Tools and Supplies (utility knife, duct tape, battery powered radio, etc.)
* Sanitation and Hygiene (household bleach, soap, towels, etc.)
* Clothing and Bedding (a change of clothes for each family member and blankets)
* Important documents (copies of your driver’s license, passport, and birth certificate to name a few)
* First Aid supplies (although you’re a goner if a zombie bites you, you can use these supplies to treat basic cuts and lacerations that you might get during a tornado or hurricane)
Gee, I think I have room in my backpack for the best defense against zombies: A shotgun. Gotta be prepared for anything.