SUMMER APOCALYPSE TRAINING
I’m currently stranded in the Northern Rivers area of Australia, waiting for the flooded roads to clear so the fuel trucks can resupply the petrol stations to help me continue my passage northwards. Luckily for me I’m 200 metres above sea level in my friend’s weatherbeaten house, perched atop a sea of rolling green hills dotted with macadamia, avocado, mango and custard apple trees. I’ve managed to escape the worst effects of the flood, although one of the two entrances/exits to the property was up to my waist in silty brown water at the peak of the flood. I’m experiencing a simultaneous combination of gratitude and survivor’s guilt. I feel blessed to have escaped this natural palaver with only a few sodden mattresses and ruined clothes. I feel guilty that I don’t have to kayak into my living room to retrieve my remaining salvageable possessions, like my friends in Lismore did the other day.
The only way to deal with survivors guilt is to help those who came off worse than you. I wish I could say I was the kind of first responder saint who descended upon the chaos like the angel of mercy as soon as the piss hit the fan, but in reality I’m a recovering piece of shit like most of you reading this, who had to wrestle with his own selfishness and laziness before he committed to pitching in, but more on that later. For now, let’s just virtue signal that I spent the afternoon picking a few boxes of avocados and pumpkins for a food donation delivery to Lismore on the morrow. The Lismoreans may have lost everything, but there will be plenty of guacamole, well in about a week when the avocados ripen.
Oh and for those who aren’t familiar with the Lismoreans, they are a race closely related to the Lemurians but not as new agey.
SURFING THE FLOOD OF PALAVER PORN
It was a surreal experience watching the torrid bukake of youtube disaster porn hit my eyes, holed up in a shuddering house in the middle of the very same biblical deluge that I was watching unfold on my laptop, knowing that everything I was seeing on my computer screen was happening only 30 minutes down the road. I found myself compulsively consuming as much of this filthy ruin smut as I could, as the firmanent raged above me and my tenuous internet connection…
