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Suppose you get lucky and it's a zombie apocalypse. I consider this lucky because it's one of the more easily survivable ones, from the looks of things. Hell, we've already shown how the whole zombie scourge would only last a year or two at most before it died out. Already on Walking Dead, zombies are treated as an afterthought -- they get killed as easily as you'd swat a fly now, so there's no real sense of dread there.
So you lucked out and you had the right set of skills, you outran all the fires, and your stomach can handle a diet of wild strawberries and stale soda crackers. Things are looking up. A couple of years go by and you don't see any more zombies, you have a little community of people, and you grow your own pumpkins and maybe free range chickens. Not bad, right? Also, you're 20 and this is all you have to look forward to for the next 60 years.
Also, a lifetime of easy access to Internet porn has ruined your ability to masturbate freestyle.
There aren't enough of you to rebuild civilization. Maybe all the mating pairs have matched up and you're the odd man or woman out. You have skills, but no one can build cars from the ground up, and all the gasoline is gone or expired. Power plants melted down or burned to the ground. The entire infrastructure of society is already going back to the weeds and the willow trees. Basically, your life, at best, is going to be that of a sexless yeti. There will never be a new book unless you write one yourself. There will never be a new person unless they pop out of the loins of one of your companions, and you're already at least 20 years older than them, so what the hell do you have in common? Your life is going to be as exciting to live as XFL was to watch.
And so this is what it comes down to: Would you even want to survive the apocalypse? Some people have a drive to keep going no matter what, but does everyone? Especially in a world where, technically, there's nothing left to live for? The world ended. It's not going to get better. At best, it's just never going to get worse. Can you imagine the pressure of that every morning when you wake up? Every day, you open your eyes and think, "Well, I hope it doesn't get worse." And if it doesn't, then that's the best day it could have been. A day when it didn't get worse than the world having ended once already. That's staggering in its crapitude. That's a perpetual motion cosmic rubber mallet to the balls. Well, at least it didn't get worse than the apocalypse.
"I continued to struggle with the concept of the pointlessness of my own mortality,
and the ever-escalating weight of another day's effort to survive ... but I saw a turtle, which was nice."
I'd wager, and maybe I'm dead wrong, but I feel strongly that most people who survived the apocalypse to the point where society could arguably try to start anew, just wouldn't want to. You'd get there and it'd be like realizing all your Christmas presents were filled with botulism. And you already ate half of them. Your bitterness, loneliness, boredom, anger, frustration, and total inability to suss out a single reason for any of this happening and your place in it would lead you straight to "fuck this" town.
Of course, some small group of people would probably enjoy that challenge of rebuilding society. Who's to say you and 13 other multiracial and marginally attractive people can't do that in a world overrun with Super Mutants and radscorpions? I just assume most of us wouldn't want to deal with that hassle simply because we're ill-equipped for such things. Individuals don't make the world work; the world makes us work. End the world and we're all in a tiny raft on a very shitty ocean. Plus, there's that whole poop thing I mentioned at the beginning. Please don't underestimate that.
For more from Felix, check out 5 Stupid Movie Genres (and Why They're so Popular) and The Single Most Useless 'As Seen On TV' Product Ever.
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