Dr. Apocalypse is Back — Get Ready to Get KNOWLEDGED
By Rob Kutner on February 10, 2012
What can we do stop the ocean levels rising that doesn’t require logging off Facebook? Are we at risk of a global bio-epidemic every time Gwyneth Paltrow goes out for sushi? Will our machines become self-aware, and then get all douchey and into yoga?
Some know only half the truth; only Dr. Apocalypse knows at least 83% of it. E-mail your questions to ApocDoc@gmail.com.
Bryn Zarnowski asks:
What can I do to protect and preserve certain plant life in a post-apocalyptic world?
Nice try, Bryn Zarnowski –- if that is your real name — but Dr. Apocalypse knows precisely which kind of “certain plant life” your winky-winky tone alludes to: thyme. And for good reason. The immediate post-apocalypse will be a difficult time to survive, but a NIGHTMARE in which to properly season a delicate vegetable- or egg-based dish. Dr. Apocalypse recommends you make an extensive emergency list of all family, friends, and professional colleagues and their respective spice cabinets, then game out an elaborate, and by necessity bloody, set of power-trades that will leave you dominating them. Play your cards right, and you could find yourself the “Master-Blaster” of Brunchtown.
Jane Elaine asks:
Will men rain from the sky?
Men. Rain from the sky. Are you serious? Of course not. Men will certainly not rain down — they will describe an elliptical trajectory as they are fired from the multiple sacrifice-cannons into the mouths of our flying hominivorous alien masters — but not before first passing through our magnetically levitated clouds of batter and frying grease, in order that our offerings be properly “popcorned” (the concept of “popcorning” being the one item of information out of trillions of human tele-radio waves that actually interested the aliens 20,000 light years away enough to make contact. Suck on that, SETI).
So no, no “man-rain,” Jane. You can regret your foolishness while you and your fellow women are being mid-air-calzoned (don’t ask).
Barry Morris asks:
Let’s say I am one of the lucky ones who gets raptured up to heaven — but without warning. It’s Heaven, so they will have Netflix, but my DVD was never returned. Will I be stuck for eternity with just streaming?
Afraid so, Barry. And even worse, it’s unreliable streaming because, sadly, Heaven is still using dial-up.
Dr. Apocalypse, aka Rob Kutner, is a writer for CONAN and the author of APOCALYPSE HOW: TURN THE END-TIMES INTO THE BEST OF TIMES and the new e-book, THE FUTURE ACCORDING TO ME.
Follow Rob on Twitter: @ApocalypseHow.