Ask Not For Whom the Bell Tolls


RIP (Photo credit: giveawayboy)

It seems like T. S. Eliot was wrong. The world’s not going to end with whimper or a bang. It would appear a scream will have the last word.

We are on our own. The government is lying to you about those with the plague who die. The You Tube evidence is overwhelming. The dead are returning to life and eating the living. The plaque cannot be contained. It’s simply too late.

In twenty-four hours, the plague has spread from Tucson, Az. to six major U.S. cities and an indeterminate number of smaller cities and towns. Do not count on the CDC. The overnight discovery of a remedy is the stuff of science fiction. If you’re waiting for the military to get this under control, wake up. What chance do they have against an army of millions which is spreading like rot through a basket of old fruit? Short of nuking the entire country, the best the military can hope to do is set up perimeters around wherever they’re stationed and weather the storm. I advise you to do the same.

Gather your friends and family. Board up your windows and doors. Bunker down. Keep your weapons ready and don’t hesitate to use them when the time comes—there is no if.

Our lives are about to turn grisly, if that’s not the case for you already. Those who grasp this concept early on will gain an edge on survival, should surviving in Hell hold for you any appeal. For many, I’m certain it will not. I, for one, will not give up. I intend to be the one who sounds that final scream.

God help us

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