Matter of Laugh or Death
By Bill Dunn
Interesting observations on this thing we call life
NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND
We just passed the seven-month mark of our ordeal. It is now August, 2000, and we are still in this underground bunker. Conditions are deteriorating rapidly. The food supply is low; the water supply is even lower; and we are completely out of Charmin and now must use generic brand toilet paper. Yes, indeed a major crisis.
Morale has never been worse. Tensions are high, nerves are frayed, and hysterical outbursts are now commonplace. I honestly don’t know how much longer we can take this. Frankly, I occasionally think we would be better off joining the tens of millions of poor souls who did not survive the Y2K apocalypse. At least they are at peace.
Of course, I can’t let the rest of our group perceive that I might be losing hope. I am the Commander. I vowed to get us through this nightmare. Our mission, simply put, is to survive and then rebuild civilization on planet earth—assuming the planet is still able to sustain human life.
Back when we entered the bunker on December 31st, 1999, I never imagined we’d be down here for this long. Even if my worst-case scenario occurred—a complete Y2K meltdown of society and sporadic nuclear conflicts—I figured we could emerge from the bunker sometime in the Spring and start rebuilding our lives.
Unfortunately, the “battery fiasco” had a terrible impact on our ability to monitor above-ground events and plan a course of action. I had calculated that seven crates of “AA” batteries (over 62,000 individual batteries) could power all our electronic equipment for many years. We could tune in short-wave frequencies, communicate on two-way CB channels, and listen to AM and FM stations—assuming any were broadcasting. We even had enough batteries to listen to music on the CD player. But as we discovered, 62,000 batteries without a single volt of power between them are useful only as door stops. And underground bunkers do not have any doors in need of stopping.
If I live to see civilization rise again, I will never, ever make bulk purchases at a place called Big Lou’s Discount House of Liquidation Sales. I just hope we never face a situation where our lives depend on the twelve crates of Big Lou’s surplus ammo stacked up in the west corner of the bunker.
Thankfully, one young child brought a Walkman with him into our safe hideaway. Its two “AA” batteries actually work, but they are the only good batteries we have. We are forced to ration the use of those two batteries, sliding a thin antennae wire through a hole in the concrete ceiling for 30 seconds each day in an attempt to pick up any outside radio transmissions.
We are forced to stay in this bunker for the foreseeable future because of the dire messages we have heard in recent weeks. Apparently, civilization has collapsed in many locales. Although we are only picking up bits and pieces of various radio signals, the message is all too clear. We have repeatedly heard reference to a “Survivor” situation where people are actually being voted off some island. I’m sure it is because of starvation conditions, and I’m also sure they are being “voted” off via the business end of an AK-47.
Recently we have picked up more alarming news: cryptic references to a “Big Brother” situation with multiple surveillance cameras. People are being monitored even in their bedrooms and bathrooms. What an Orwellian nightmare. I have no doubt that in early January, Bill Clinton suspended the Constitution, imposed martial law, sent armed troops to invade the cities, and declared himself “Emperor for Life.”
It is obvious the post-Y2K world comes in two styles: brutal dog-eat-dog anarchy, or jack-booted totalitarian oppression. Chaos or slavery. What terrible options.
Well, those of us who remain free—and don’t doubt for a minute that there aren’t hundreds of hidden bunkers just like this one honeycombed throughout North America—will continue to fight ignorance and panic wherever we find it. We are committed to rebuilding a free, democratic society.
All we need to do is wait patiently until the time is right. Then we will emerge in unison to restore peace and hope to our land.
In the meantime, Diary, it’s time to prepare dinner. I wonder if we should have Spam salad, fried Spam cakes, or Spam a la mode?
Signing off for now,
Colonel Jim Bob Lugnut
Commander, 24th Brigade, Underground Patriot Corps
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