The thing is….

The thing is …

… we all let it happen.

 

We sat by, staring at the “stories” on cable, disconnected, not realizing the news stories would be the narration of our last days.

 

Early on, I began writing things down, on real paper. We had all nearly forgotten how to write in our own penmanship, on real paper.  On the backsides of my notes, I colorlaserprinted important stuff like maps and addresses. Stuff people don’t keep offline no more.

 

I bought up some real actual books from the thrift stores, and burned some eBooks to CD and paper, lots of stuff on basic survival and strategies…  sort of working my way from the raw Basics to The Classics.

 

An hour into the War, I chopped off my connections to the outside world.

 

The breaking news was so invested in the drama they had forgotten their journalistic duty to warn people what was coming next.

 

I cut the fiber, the cable, the land lines, the electrical. Chopped them at the street and at the back wall of my trailer, with my hatchet and my hack saw and with some considerable amount of ferocious animosity towards the pacifying messages they had brought, and the part I personally had played.

 

The Information Age had rendered us unable to individually actually retain and understand real important information, and it gave us the sense that we were actually doing something by blogging and chatting and … awhell , the thing is we forgot basic right and wrong.

 

Misty and I watched the mushroom clouds in the distance for a fleeting few minutes, then sealed up the place. I wish I hadn’t lost my beloved Maria to cancer, but perhaps she was better off. Her amusingly annoying cat Misty had become my life, when I pulled the trailer to our desert property after the funeral.

 

When strange folks came knocking and banging and begging in the next weeks after the strategic and tactical nuclear bombing in the distance subsided, Misty and I hunkered down in the safe room. She shivered and purred inside my over-sided bulletproof jacket and sometimes even peed a little.

 

I thought back to the election over and over.

 

I re-read my hand-written notes from the last year.

 

It was the whole USA that was breaking, not just the news.

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