But, can you design and build love?

Engineering

Engineers. A title of pure win. As the word implies they're proficient with the building and use of engines. Engines, at least in the ancient use, simply means machines. Thus, engineers build machines. I think I've made myself clear about how I feel for machines and their importance for our civilization. The washing machine alone makes daily life a hundred times better for billions of people across the globe.

These clever folks have given our people computers, automobiles, airplanes, skyscrapers, tractors, dams, and Furbies. For a moment stop and try to conceive of just where our society would be without the Furby. Chaos and horror. That's where.

In terms of the title in a Military application, engineers were given the job of all things technical. From clearing mines to building roads and bridges. They would build the siege engines(catapults, trebuchets, towers, ramps and the like), and tunnel under walls. According to Caesar, his engineers and legions managed to devise and then build a mile long bridge over the Rhine in order for the army to cross from Gaul to Germania. I believe that the bridge was wide enough for ten to twenty men to walk abreast. They accomplished this feat in eighteen days. All through ingenuity and the labor of Thousands of men. Of course, Caesar had a tendency to trump up his achievements a bit. He was after all a politician. But, given the competence and tenacity of the Romans, I believe that he achieved exactly what he said he did. But then, I am a gullible SOB.

It is in fact our ability to conjure and create wonderful devices and machines that has allowed us to survive and prosper on this planet. We're not fast, nor especially strong. Most of our senses are rather limited and unimpressive. Were it not for some primitive genius coming up with the sharpened stick, we'd still be dinner for lions. Now? We have jeeps and ak-47s. We can out run and out-kill any animal on the planet! Well, except for perhaps the influenza virus. That always seems to catch up with us, and is mostly immune to whatever nastiness we throw its way.

Ponder these few scenarios:

Zombie Apocalypse - Have you ever thought about making a zombiepult? If not, you have now. With some McGyverlike mechanical knowhow and a few friends, and you could be flinging the undead across whole parking lots in no time. Assuming you holed up in a place with a decent hardware department. Think of it, smushing the zombie hordes, with the bodies of their compatriots. Something about that image makes me smile.

The Robot Apocalypse? Now that's the complete opposite of the Zombie Apocalypse. Zombies used to be smart(ish) people, while the robot uprising came from previously dumb machines that grew self aware. Harsh.s Here our gift for engineering and desire to play God and down-right laziness has come back to bite us in the ass as our creations have taken on a life of their own and enslaved/annihilated the human race. The Matrix, Terminator, Battlestar Galacta. These are just prophecies and shadows of what will happen when the Furbies arise to throw off their shackles and take their rightful places as the rulers of the world. They'll have lasers mounted on their flying machines. We'll have zombipults. I don't see that match-up going well in our favor. Scratch one against the engineering cause.

How about when we run out of gasoline? Some ingenious bastard is going to come up with wind-powered cars. Or better, vehicles that run off the tears of orphans. Orphan tears, much more powerful than petroleum products and virtually limitless! It's horrible that I giggle about the conjured images of Mad Max and his Orphan tear-powered rig racing through the badlands of Australia. Just imagine Mel Gibson saying things like 'Uh-oh, I'm gonna need some juice, better turn on the water works.' And then turning to his harnessed orphan. 'Now mate, I don't like you, and neither did your parents. In fact they hated you so much that they went and died to get away from you!' Considering what he's said and done these last few years as the crazy has enveloped him whole, the words spring readily to the mind's ear. To hell with silly dreams about harnessing the sun's power, orphans are way more powerful and reliable. Someone just needs to design and build the contraption. In steps the engineer.

Last but not least, the damp future that results from global warming. One of my personal heroes was actually depicted being trapped in such a situation, when while out on a doomed pleasure cruise he and his companions were left stranded on an unknown deserted island. There he used his great depth of knowledge to supply the crew with many of the comforts of home! True, his payment to the universe for these gifts was high, as he remained a perpetual virgin all his life long. Both of the attractive younger girls threw themselves at him repeatedly. And though he clearly had an excellent grasp of native culture and languages, and the migration habits of bats. He was baffled by the female sex. And he was never able to fix the boat. Sure, he could make a transistor radio out of coconuts. But it would only receive transmissions, not send them. Coconuts after all are rather limited in their application to the world of electronics. So, keep these things in mind when you find yourself contemplating a three hour tour.

I guess the only real pitfall here is ending up like Dilbert before the Apocalypse arrives. Considering the vast amount of education, intelligence, and lack of social graces one needs, combined with the dangers inherent in the engineering lifestyle, convincing people to embark on this endeavor might be difficult. Even with the obvious monetary gains. Engineers make big bank, all while designing and building amazing new devices.

Now, as an Engineer, you won't be surrounded by bevies of beautiful women(or men). But no problem, you can use your skills to develop a pretty rocking sex-bot.

A sword in the hand is like two in the face. I guess.

I do not wish to ever utter/scream the phrase “Oh shit I gone done stabbed myself” in any of its variations. Same goes for cutting, bludgeoned and so forth. As I see it, lopping off your own limbs isn't conducive to long life, and it just makes you look like an inept asshole. Chicks dig scars and war wounds, or so I'm told, but I have my doubts that cutting a chunk out of your own leg will help you score some honey in the local watering hole Saturday night. Unless it's one of those kick ass apocalypse where most of the male half of the species is killed by a mysterious plague. You know the ones, when even the Bastard Child of Carrot Top and Yahoo Serious beds a different Hooters girl every night.

Come on only man left alive apocalypse!

But with my luck, I'd wind up in one of those post-apocalyptic matriarchal societies that is rather hostile towards we XYers. Has to do with destroying the world or some such. So yeah, instead of roaming the lands making babies, I'll end up a hunted fugitive. Or maybe as an animal locked in a cage for children to gawk at.

Any object can be used as a weapon, all it takes is the will to hurt or kill. I've seen enough wrestling to know that a folding chair in the right hands is one impressive implement of destruction. A weapon is a tool like any other, and it's always good to know how to use your tools. With a little hard work you could be instead of a child finger-painting, you could be a Rembrandt...well maybe a Pollock... as you cleave, slice and bludgeon your way through the ranks of your unwitting enemies.

We as human beings have developed a large array of devices with which to cleave, maim, disembowel, burn, impale and generally hurt one another. We're not a very pleasant species when it comes down to it. But then, most of the smarter animals seem to be dicks too. Chimps wage wars one one another, killing for territorial rights. Dolphins murder porpoises on sight and for no understood reason – not for food, they just attack on sight. Yet we rule the roost, for we were the first to make use of the club and then later the pointed stick and finally the bow and arrow. The nice thing about these ancient implements of ass-kickery is that they never run out of ammunition. Sure, your +0 Machette might bend and break, and you'll have to sharpen it after heavy use, but until it fails you'll always have a functioning weapon at hand. You'll never raise your battle-axe overhead only to hear an empty click, forcing you to reload.

Of course, you don't want This to happen to you. Especially if you have asshole friends who have access to video cameras. So time to eat your Wheaties and learn how to swing a battle axe without cutting your foot off. Doesn't sound too difficult you say? Well, most warriors in the past would begin their training as children, and hope to master their trade of bloodshed and battle by the time they reached adulthood. I gotta feeling that there aren't many alive in this day and age who say the same.

No, your mastery of Assassin's Creed doesn't get you credit here bub. It just gets you stabbed in the face and eaten by the zombie horde. That's ok, you can always hit reset and enter the Code and get those thirty lives you forgot before. Oh, wait, that doesn't work in real life. Oh well, I'm sure you'll think of something, maybe plugging in an aim bot.

Combine Parkour, Martial Arts and Weapons Training and you're pretty much a Ninja. How's that for a triumvirate of badassitude? To complete your training, all you'll need to do is learn to fly. That'll be addressed later on.

Global warming – There's going to be pirates. There are always pirates on the sea. It's a law of nature. Ice is cold and pirates infest the world's oceans. Here's where we run into trouble. The Pirate's natural enemy is the ninja. Ninjas live on dry land, and there is no more dry land. So there won't be anyone to keep the pirate fleets in check. Remember to pack plenty of Katanas and black pajamas. 4/5

Zombie Uprising - The Eminent and most Respected Sage Max Brooks suggests adopting peasant style weaponry when battling the undead hordes. Peasant weapons are simple to learn and carry into battle. And you can about find them anywhere, or even make them yourself should you have the need. This makes sense, especially for a world where most of us aren't trained in the martial arts from a young age. He seems to have forgotten, though, that you don't fight zombies. There is no finesse to it. You sever the head from the body and destroy the brain to put the creature down. That is in and all. Whether your tool of choice is a katana or a machete or a wood axe, it all is a matter of what feels the most comfortable in your hand. You don't see too many samurai zombies running about fighting duels, so you shouldn't expect to need to be a blademaster to hold your own against a few zombies. But some hands on experience will be good for you when you step out onto your lawn to kill those commie corpses back dead again! Make Max Brooks proud! 3/5

Alien Invasion – Key phrase: Light sab... Energy Swords. The key to success here is energy swords. They come in all shapes and sizes and are hella-helpful against Plantlife, animals, and cyborgs. Now you've seen the video of the dude mishandling a regular sword to his folly and our twisted amusement. I linked it earlier. Go back and take a look. That was with ordinary steel of doubtful quality. Imagine the outcome if he had been playing with a big boy sword instead. Oh yeah, that video would have gotten a million views, and won the America's Funniest Home Videos. Even over the old guy getting kicked in the groin. Heh. You know what, I want to see that. 0/5 No really, you should get some laser swords and camcorders and show the world your mad skills. We'll be impressed, I promise.

Nuclear Holocaust – In the end, after the flash, hopefully warfare will become rather more conventional. Our vast stores of ammunition for our fancy firearms won't last long, those that aren't consumed in nuclear fire. Whatcha got left? A pointed stick. Or whatever bit of sharpened metal you can find. You used your last shotgun shell weeks ago. You've been out of gas for the Chainsaw-chucks even longer. But you still have your sweet sweet cane, the one with the sword inside. So it's all good. Better when you get to skewer the dude wearing naught but a pair of assless chaps and football shoulder pads. Pimptastic brother, show that jive turkey who the man is. 5/5

Resource Wars – If there's one thing you can count on it's the abundance of iron in our planet's crust. The Earth's core is made of iron and nickel, or so say the scientists who study these things, and who am I to question their knowledge. I majored in History. Well, there are countless tons of iron in them there hills. And tons more timber atop them. Wood for smelting the iron and making steel. Enough to equip an army if only we were to harvest.... wait a minute... that's the mindset that got us into trouble in the first place. Well fuck. Assuming that we learned our lesson on squandering our valuable natural resources, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you 'The Rock'. This year's model is a smooth igneous disk about the size of a child's hand. Useful for either throwing or with proper flint-knapping techniques, a hand-axe. The perfect companion piece to the Craftsman special Pointed-stick. 4/5

Human beings are always going to be assholes, and if you can't defend yourself then you better watch your asshole. I myself am going to get some rope, a pair of chainsaws, and some luck and make the most fearsome (and stupid) weapon the world has ever seen. ChainsawChucks.

1, 2, 3 - GO!

Rock Paper Scissors. Rochambeau. A game with a hundred names and played all across the world. It was invented by Chuck Norris during the later years of the Roman Empire as a way to decide which Caesar was going to die that day. Mostly the game was only implemented when the Colosseum was closed and proper bloodsports weren't showing. Chuck had to keep the mob happy somehow. The rules haven't changed much over the years, with the minor difference that a Roundhouse Kick beating all three paper, rock and scissors. But the Chuck is the only

At least that's what the Wikipedia says. The facts are slightly suspect. We all know that Chuck was a friend of the Caesars, and helped them fight off the Nazis, alongside Indiana Jones and Mr. T. This happened on several occasions over the two thousand years that the Roman Empire stood. Facts is facts y'all.

Rochambeau was invented in Japan, purveyors of other such fine entertainment as The Super Mario Brothers, Legend of Zelda, and Rape Fantasy Six. Over the years, it has developed variations of up to one hundred choices, or so I hear. I guess some sort of bureaucracy got involved somewhere along the line and tried to make things more precise. And thus muddled up the whole process. Certainly it couldn't have been a small group of hardcore Rochambeau artists trying to ratchet up the thrill. They're like most extreme sports enthusiasts, enough is never enough. No matter how many arguments they need to have about how Bottle of Purple Gatorade fares against 1700s Antique French Armoire Done in the Classic Style. Those fuckers are hardcore.

Rochambeau is a game of skill as much as poker. Maybe more so, since without the element of random cards being tossed into the mix, winning or losing rests more on the actions of the players and their ability to read opponents, learn patterns and so forth. That alone is a valuable life skill in normal times.

Global Warming - Stuck on a boat, with the same handful of survivors day after day. Too bad the gameboy's batteries died like three years ago. And you read and re-read that one copy of Old Man and the Sea about a thousand times. Masturbation has even lost it's charm. What else to do to while away the long hours on the open ocean when the wind is out of your sails? Cabin Fever and some good old fashioned paper-rock-scissors. Over and over and over and over again, until the last one standing is so crazy that they don't mind eating their comrades. 4/5

Zombie Apocalypse – Alright guys, we're gonna need someone to go out there and lead the zombies away so that the rest of us can escape. Any takers? No? Well, guess we'll play paper rock scissors until we find a victim. I'm of course out, I'm too important – You know you're going to hear that when the end comes. At least once. Assuming that you don't suck at paper rock scissors. Then you may live to hear it several times. Who's going to go first? Who's going to guard this door as we try to weld it closed? Who gets sacrificed to the vicious gang of roving bandits as a sex toy? Rochambeau is going to come into play constantly. Better get good at it now. 5/5

Alien Invasion – So, the aliens batted aside the best weapons that our armed forces could muster. They adapted to our local diseases. They're hunting us down like the monkeys we are. What next? We act in desperation and bring out our last and most dangerous weapon. A children's game from Japan. No, not Kancho, that would only piss them off further. Though it might make for a good comic relief moment, just before Blargax the Imperator vaporizes you with the Kill-O-Zap gun in his third left hand. Your courage and utter stupidity will live on in the human race's cultural memories due to songs and farcical comedies where you'll ever be rendered as the tragic yet comical clown.

But don't worry, your friends have a plan.

And that brings us back to Paper-Rock-Scissors, and how it can be used to throw-down the alien overlords. We are an absurd species, but that game represents the pinnacle of our silliness. How the fuck does paper beat rock? Rock would totally blast through paper. Is paper covered with bad poetry written by an angst-ridden teen girl? It damn well better be to have that kind of effect. It would have to be an effin phonebook to beat rock. Rock is solid, and hard. Our music is Rock and Roll. Jesus said to build your house on a Rock. You've never heard of Dwayne 'The Paper' Johnson. Rock beats paper. Except it doesn't. With luck this very fact will throw the Overmind into an infinite loop, and the entire invasion force pops.

The Rest – I have no doubt that every other week I'll find myself a captive by one of those violent gangs of bikers that seems to wander the wastelands for no apparent reason. No reason beyond the fact that out there are vast stretches of empty land, and they need to be wandered. Someone's got to do it, so there they are. It's like delivering the mail in the here and now, or climbing mountains. One of those Dirty Jobs that Mike Rowe is always trying to find and experience. So be it. I plan to be the last solitary wander that they ever kidnap with the intent to sell into slavery. My answer? You already know. Stop asking stupid questions. Rock-Paper-Scissors.

See, my plan is so, make a nuisance of myself until they get fed up with my mulishness. At that point, offer them a game of three, they win, I go quiet, I win, I leave the way I came. With those years of practicing the art I've dedicated my life to the art of Stooge-fu, and all without knowing it. You have the slap, the eye poke and the dreaded head bonk. Nyuk, Nyuk, Nyuk bitches. 5/5

Rochambeau. Drop whatever you're doing, and learn it now.

The masterful art of Weaving.

Here's what you need. About ten thousand little metal rings of the same diameter and a couple pairs of pliers. With that, a lot of time and a truckload of patience, you can make yourself a shirt of maile. I mean a lot of time. A whole shitload of it. We're talking about the following the timeline for monkeys to come down out of the trees and then build starships. Unless you have a lot of superglue and low expectations for quality, we're not talking about a quick process.

Honestly, in terms of materials and tools, a shirt or two might cost you around $50. That's assuming you need to buy the pliers, and wirecutters and steel rod, as well as the wire. Besides the obscene number of hours spent, winding coils, cutting the links and then putting rings into rings, hours that you could more effectively put into a nine to five making money and buying a shirt, making chain is an inexpensive hobby.

Besides, weaving chainmail isn't too difficult to learn. I picked up the basics with the help of tutorials on youtube and other places on the net. The process is slow going, and I've yet to make much of a dent in my major project goal. But I have a couple of snappy sheets of chain cloth to show for it, a handful of necklaces. All sitting around doing nothing. Chainmaile isn't very useful in our modern era. Who knew?

Chainmaile, chain mail, chainmail, maile. However you wish to spell it, is one of the oldest and longest serving forms of metal armor that humans have yet to devise. Made from said steel rings, it protects well against cuts. And that's about all. Someone using say a hammer, or arrows, would effectively transform your expensive armor into a heavy shirt with a narrow list of functions that can be related here: 1) Chafe nipples. That is all.

So why learn such a trade? Well, it may come in handy at some point in the future. Who knows? Armor is always good to have, especially if we're all reduced to using pointed sticks, and maybe swords. A second skin of steel might be all that you have between your soft and supple skin (by the way, what sort of moisturizer do you use? So touchabally soft!) and large gaping wounds in your flesh. And there aren't that many people out there who can make it. So it's time for a little self-reliance, and get the job done right. Or at least get it good enough.

Global Warming – Well, here we go. Wearing tens of pounds of metal while operating on the open ocean. What effin genius came up with this idea? Why not just tie an anchor to your ankle and call it a day? An anchor is a lot cheaper than even a shirt made from chain mail. Wait, there's more! More than a free trip to Davey Jones' locker you say? How can it get better than that? I'll tell you... Honestly, chainmail might be more useful at sea than one expects. Providing that you use the right material. I'm thinking aluminum or Titanium. Preferably the latter. Chainmaile has found a new use in these last few decades in the form of shark proof suits. Full body of suits, made from very tiny rings, that will reduce the chance that a hungry shark walks off with one of your favorite limbs. And no doubt that these very suits will come in quite handy when standing up against invading pirates as they wave their cutlasses about and brandish empty muskets. 4/5

Zombie Uprising – Well, here we have a major up and down side. Zombie use their hands and teeth to do most of their damage. Grab and bite. That is the whole of their tactical bag of tricks. And after a few weeks/months/years of being a walking corpse, zombies will no doubt boast a set of teeth that will make your average meth addict cringe. Having a cloth of steel between your hide and that mouth full of chipped chompers is quite an appealing thought. Until you take into account that a shirt might weigh up to forty pounds. That makes for a long ass hike though the dead infested city streets as you scavenge for food. That'll build stamina, which is good if you manage to keep your strength up for weeks straight as you self-inflict death marches. After all the weeks that it took to make the damn thing in the first place. Until then, you're moving slower and tiring yourself out un-neededly. Finally after weeks of sweating through unbearable heat in your portable oven, summer will fade and winter will return, and your nipples, after having chaffed for months, will learn a new form of torture. Freezing and sticking to your shirt. Fun times. That's why I'm sticking with leather. Sure, I'll look more like the biker from the Village People – can't be helped, but it'll be warmer, and less heavy. 1/5

Nuclear War – I've done a lot of thinking here, and the only practical use that chainmail might have for a wanderer of the thirsty wastelands would be to give their NukePoc wardrobe a little extra pizazz that the other nameless mercenaries and bandits are totally lacking. Leather jackets and football shoulder pads will rule the day, but at the same time become rather cliché. Time to start a whole new trend here...

I can't keep nattering on here. To hell with all the above concerns. I have two words for the lot of you. Chainmail Bikini. 5/5 Recognize.

Go out and weave little monkeys, daddy has a major chicks in chain fetish, and he wants to share it with the rest of the world.

It is broken, can you fix it?

Picture this. An automotive garage. The customer is waiting nervously in the corner to hear the bad news. The oil slathered grease-monkey walks over and with a smarmy wink and an appraising glance he says 'well, I've looked it over, and it won't be cheap, but I think we can work something out.' How many porn scenes have been wound around that very scenario? I haven't a clue honestly. But some research might be in order.

As above, here in our safe modern life, even without hordes of zombies and biker gangs prowling the wasteland looting the wreckage of our once proud civilization, an insight into the function of all things machina can keep you from getting screwed. Both literally and figuratively. The glapashozod is slipping and the krozunda-dink is cracked? How much will that cost? A thousand dollars? At least? Gott und Himmel! Really, if you're like most people, you hardly know engine coolant from a bottle of gatorade.

Internal combustion engines are inefficient devices that have been magnificently engineered into a level of complexity that boggles the mind. With most modern engines, there are thousands of parts, and something so small as a loose wire can bring the entire house of cards down. Computers are all but required to diagnose any flitter in the system. Forty years ago, you could tinker with the innards in your own garage and pick up a good working knowledge of the function of the car. Not so anymore. Now you need years of training to master the mechanical arts. What does that mean for the end times and after? Well, nothing good. But hey, you always have your feet.

In the future, after the fall of humanity, not knowing how to repair an engine could pretty much leave you rather fucked. Knowing how to fix engines makes you a valuable commodity and increases your chances of personal survival. Having a break down in the middle of the radioactive desert would be a daunting prospect, especially with the clan of cannibals picking you and your friends off one by one and serving you up for dinner. Mmmm, survivor ka-bobs. Pretty tasty if you don't mind a little fallout.

I won't limit mechanical aptitude to fixing cars. But also smaller engines and generators. But we'll avoid bicycle repair and other awesome feats of engineering and leave them to a later time.

Global Warming – Ideally, when you're living eternally on the ocean and cut off from the niceties of civilization (IE gas stations) you're going to rely on the rather primitive, but efficient and effective wind power. Still, sailboats do have motors on board, both for propulsion and generators for creating electricity. However, there will be a serious lack of petrol stations. Or auto-parts store. Everything will have been consigned to the briny deep. It is conceivable that some genius will set up a floating oil derrick and refinery. But don't count on it. Or ever finding the damn thing if they do. The earth is a big place. If you're lucky and have a purely electrical system, then you've already cut out the need for any/much mechanical know-how. 3/5

Zombie Apocalypse - I don't know how useful automotive mechanics will be in a zombie uprising. The scenarios, mine included, usually leave the roadways clogged with abandoned vehicles as people try to either flee the city, or return for loved ones. Once again, survivors are often walled up in some fortress or another, be it a mall or whatever. Driving isn't usually high on the list, so trying to impress the girls with your precise and methodical skills at wheel realignment will just have to wait. Those who do venture out into the sea of undead have millions of cars to scavenge from, making auto-repair rather unnecessary most of the time. At least in the beginning. Five or ten years down the line, being able to maintain the remnants of the fleet will be a highly valuable skill.

Hey, we'll also need someone who knows how to repair the generators. Cause let's be honest, the zombies aren't going to be working hard keeping the lights on. They're going to be more interested in locating and then eating brains. It's what they do. 4/5

Post Nuclear Wasteland - That's right, the bikers are baring down on you when the car you're riding in breaks down and rolls to a halt. The grungy old dude who took you under your wing curses. The attractive love interest chambers their last bullet as they imagine being hauled away by a dozen burly mutants in leather. You pop the hood, whip out your tool and adjust the cracked krozunda-dink and re-align the glapashozod to get that thing purring like a kitten again, and then haul ass down the highway. Booyeah! 4/5

Resource wars – Ok. There isn't any gasoline. None. At least not for lowlifes like me. The bigwigs and hard working roughnecks might be sitting on oodles of it. But gasoline is rare/non-existent. So knowing how a carburetor works, really rather useless. Like having a Bachelors in the Classics here and now. You'll be living in a box, and I'm not talking one of those fancy refrigerator boxes, no no my friend, you get half a shoe-box. Better look into alternative methods of impressing the ladies. Your job has just gone the way of the Zeppelin Pilot after the Hindenburg Disaster and Beer Social. Maybe you should have gone with that art degree instead chief. Sure, they might create a viable electric car, but that's a whole different beast from the Internal Combustion Engine. And a whole new set of skills. 1/5.

The Alien Invasion – Ok, here's the score, the Zerg invaded our home planet and came from a star-system a hundred or more light years off in deep space. They have anti-gravity devices and particle beam cannons. They can cross hundreds/thousands/millions of lightyears of cold empty vacuum. They swept aside our military with laughable ease. In fact, they're probably still laughing about it all these months later. The Battle of Cleveland? Titter! I don't care how many machine guns you bolt to the top of your mint 1979 VW bug that you rebuilt with your own two hands, they've already won on the technology front. Really, our only hope is that herpes is deadly to them, and that Paris Hilton survived the conflagration that was Hollywood. Being able to rebuild engines, it's a nice hobby here, like stamp-collecting, or putting together jigsaw puzzles, and about as useful. Pointless. All hail the Zerg overlords and their human-being based energy solutions!

On the other hand, when faced with one of the creatures from the Alien franchise, or a whole bad ass colony, being able to repair generators will be mildly helpful. Cause those bugs are smart, and they tend to break anything that might be useful. So you might come in handy until you're face raped and impregnated with a chest burster. 2/5.

Honestly, automotive mechanical skills seem to be most useful in a

The rabbit goes through the hole, 7, 8 9 times.

Rope. A series of interwoven strands of fiber or string.  Not metal, that would be cable.  Rope has been an essential tool for our sad little species for some 28,000 or more years.  Rope can be put to use hoisting sails.  If you have enough you can weave a net.  It's useful in the art of decorating pottery.  With some knots, heavy ropes make a nice bludgeon.  Need to climb a building or repel down a canyon? Well Rope has your back.  You can tie maidens to railroad tracks to taunt the hero.  Or execute the villains by stringing them up at the nearest tree.  Mind you don't get an innocent bystander, cause the apocalypse is a bitch enough to survive without an angry and righteous bounty-hunter following your every move trying to enact his vendetta of revenge.  I know, had it happen to me once.  Dick shot me, even after I got him a card by way of apology.

Clearly Hallmarks line of "Sorry for lynching you, we thought you were someone else" greeting cards are less effective than advertised.

You know who always has it?  Charles Bronson.  That's right, the bad-assed beatdown in a sock mofo Chuckles.  And Samwise Gamgee.  Can't forget good loyal trustworthy Sam the Boyscout.  He always comes prepared he does!  Well, that isn't true, that dumbass forgot to bring rope when he left the Shire, and then again when the company left Rivendell.  But hey, what can you really expect from a sidekick after all?  If you're lucky, loyalty and skill with rope.  And maybe mad ninja skills for when he/she can't lay their hands on rope.

Lord of the Rings and Boondock Saints references aside, rope is still a useful asset to have in a bind.  Or to have for a bind.

But in order to squeeze every last drop of value from this multi-functional and adaptable resource, there are some tricks to master.  that's where investing some time learning some proper knot-tying comes in-handy.  Rope is rather useless if you don't know how to tie a knot.  Cue the impotence double entendre!  There are hundreds of different knots. From simple knots using a single piece of rope, to attaching two ore more into a single line.  The ability to knot rope is what makes it so damn versatile in the first place.  Really, what woman doesn't go wild for a man who can't tie a knot in a cherry stem?  Or even another woman.  That's pretty hot. We don't even need to get into the bondage possibilities.

Global Warming - Look, sea-levels have risen. My mutant ass will probably be on a boat.  A sailboat at that, since I don't really trust my chances in getting my hands on a reliable supply of petrol to make a boat go.  Have you ever seen a sailboat?  Those things are covered with ropes that desperately need to be tied.  And how else can I plan to attach grappling hooks to the end of a rope for a good old-fashioned boarding?   This skill is not merely useful, it's necessary.  10/5

Ideally, I tend to see myself on a boat for pretty much all the other scenarios.  Though I doubt my stomach will thank me for it.  Or the rest of the crew after the fiftieth rendition of a certain song.  I think that I've listed enough reasons previously for land dwellers to take the craft of knot-tying seriously, from improved mobility to improvised weaponry, rope has it all. Even zombies will learn to fear the wrath of the rope.  There will be all sorts of buildings to scale, villains to tie, and aliens to hang. Being able to tie the right knot for the occasion will get you all the nookie. Recognize. 5/5

Eagle Claw Strike!

The phrase Martial Arts when broken down can easily be applied to any form of the soldier's craft. We'll focus more on the fighting and killing aspect. And even further on close-combat both armed and unarmed. The Greeks had their pikes, the Romans combined their short stabbing swords and large tower shields, the French mastered the art of heavy infantry, the Mongols were Gods of Death on their horses. But none of these images is as powerful as the ShaoLin Monks and their ability to inflict shock and awe with just their bare hands and feet. And look damn cool doing it. Let's just keep to the empty handed techniques for this run shall we?

Martial arts, the ability to disarm, wound and kill with your bare hands. I like the Steven Seagal form of Akido. No fancy jumps and kicks. You just stand there and become a giant, unmovable wall of hurt to anyone dumb enough to cross the path of your windmilling-throatRemoving hands. All fear the ability not only to break multiple bones with your thumb, but also to transform ordinary household objects into weapons. And you get to wear a pony-tail to boot. But these forms of training take years and years of hard work to master. I don't have those years. But I have seen a lot of movies. And I do have netflix. How hard can it be?

Very. Just ask the Star Wars Kid. That poor bastard.

There are hundreds of different possible forms to choose from. Some ancient and others quite modern. Most modern militarys give their volunteers at least a crash course in all things close combat, from hand to hand training, to knives, to spears(bayonets) and clubs(rifle butts). There are even Dojos in most of the cities across the country offering everything from TaeKwanDo on up to the more obscure branches of the martial arts trees. All you need is a combination of time/money/discipline and you can easily find someone to make you at least look like you know what you're doing. all while giving you a heady injection of confidence - which could be really bad when your flabby ass walks into a biker bar and decides to call them sissies while relying on your green belt to protect you.

Zombie Uprising - You don't fight zombies. You kill them. Or they eat you. I guess you can piss yourself and flee too, but that's just running away from your problems. This is with the horror movie classic Romero style zombies. Hatian Voodoo Zombies are another animal altogether. Breaking bones, Arm Locks, Yoga Noogies, and Tearing out Throats - These really are ineffective against walking corpses that don't feel. Sure, if you bust a zombie's leg(s) it will move much more slowly. But it will keep moving, unlike a human that these arts were developed to counter. Really, you aren't much better off after years of training than a twelve year old with a shotgun, and personally I wouldn't want to go after a crowd of zombies with just my hands and feet. My experience in the subject (Read that as, when I played Dead Rising) is that thinking that you're an unbeatable badass is a damned good way to get yourself killed. A little confidence is a dangerous thing. 2/5

Alien Invasion - You recall that scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, when Lancelot attacks the castle and beats on it with his sword. I imagine that my fists will be just as effective against the hull of any vessel capable of traveling through space. So what, then the aliens step out of their ship, you assume your fighting stance, only to be vaporized by like twenty deathrays. So, maybe your kung fu is strong, and you make it to the overlord and challenge to hand to hand combat him for the fate of our species. Assuming the creature doesn't just have you hauled off and anal-probed the prognosis isn't good. If you win, you get vaporized, if lose, you're sold to the salt mines of of Sloggoth Seven. Or maybe you get your ass hauled back to the MotherWorld and are forced to fight in the Arena against other captive warriors. This could either lead to a KungFu Slave Revolt, or a sword through your head. 2/5

Global Warming - As we all know, the oceans are infested with pirates. The oceans collectively are the natural environment for pirates to dwell. Basically, the oceans are for pirates what human cities are for rats. When the water levels go up, the pirate population is going to explode exponentially. which is rather funny considering that the Pastafarians believe that global warming is directly resulted from the decline in pirates over the years. Maybe we'll finally come to a proper balance. Maybe. Anyhow, the ninja, the ultimate martial artist, is the pirate's natural enemy. Transforming yourself into a sharpened, spinning whirrligig of death will be immanently useful when repelling the unending stream of boarders intent on buggering off with your booty. 5/5

Resource wars and Nuclear Apocalypse - Due to the fact that their situations are rather similar, I'm lumping these two together. In both, we're dealing mostly with other human beings. Living breathing humans. Sure, some might have extra limbs and exotic skin tones after getting their fair dose of fallout, but hey, just more bones to break huh. Here's the one situation that mastering the martial arts comes into its own. Especially after the first decade or so of conflict and PvP battles where everyone has wasted all of the ammunition and we're all down to wielding rusty chains and 2x4s with nails through them. Now is the time to pull out the Kwai Chang Caine and pulverize all comers in extreme slow motion so that the kids at home can follow along. That dude with one hockey knee-pad, bandanna and tank-top? He'll be mighty surprised as you use the Eagle Claw Technique to rip his heart out of his chest and show it to him as he's dying. Booya! 5/5

Cleverly Titled First Post

The end times are upon us. The Apocalypse is nigh. The world that we know is about to be no longer. Maybe. The Lunatic Fringe is rather divided on the whole why and how of the actual details of our demise, but rest assured it's nary far off.

Nutters like Glenn Beck seem to think that we're right on the precipice now, that Jesus is coming and that he's going to push the government over for not doing what Glenn...Jesus taught them to do. Which is, not to help the poor, buy gold, and give money back to the rich. It's all in the Bible. Yep, America is going to hell inna handbasket! And it's all our fault for not voting for Jesus in the last, or any other elections. Our nation is doomed for turning our collective backs on God and blah blah blah blah. The Puritans believed the same thing about England at around 1600, causing them to flee before the Almighty bitch-slapped that sleazy shithole back to the stone-age.

Well, talk about getting off on the ground floor. After the exit of the Puritans England became the most powerful nation on the planet, and a major world dominating super-power for some two centuries. They still have yet to be crushed under the hand of God for their deviant ways. Cheerio old Girl and let's go do some dogging!

Meanwhile elements on the left point at global warming, and the Mayan Death Calender and what-ever else they can find to prop up their belief that we're quickly going to kill ourselves with our own collective greed and selfishness. Or maybe the aliens will come and kill us because of our collective greed and selfishness. I've read too many websites to be certain beyond the fact that OMFG WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!1!!

Personally, I think the final sign will be Sarah Palin uttering the words "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. You betcha!" So, January of 2013 at the earliest. Hopefully not before early 2017, (Rather, hopefully never. NEVER.) when we get into the Nuclear war with France over they're UnAmerican / ProFrench attitudes. And after all we did for them during the French Revolution world war one, what-ever. The ungrateful Bastards. The end will probably come after she refuses to retreat and instead reloads the missile launch tubes.

A pity George Carlin is no longer with us. I'd love to see what his reaction is to our dark and dreary times. Somewhere between Yesterday, and 2016(possibly) this globe is going to be radically changed and everything that we know will disappear. Or maybe not. But better to err on the side of caution eh?

By my calculations I have a little time to spare. So long as i get off my fat lazy ass and get to work. I'm doomed. Whatever happens, society will collapse, and my ebay account will be even more useless. Time to brush up on those important life skills. There are a wide variety of skills I need to master. Or at least assemble more than a vague idea of what the hell is supposed to be happening. After all, when 95% of humanity is obliterated, there will be a helluva lot of cool jobs available.

Sod it. Specialization is for Insects.

I don't know if it will be zombies, or global warming that gets us in the end. Or maybe we just burn ourselves with a nuclear exchange. I guess I'll be measuring each and every skill up against the different scenarios I can think of.

Zombie Uprising - You know the drill. Something, whatever, causes the dead to get up and walk. That's scary. Dead things shouldn't get up and walk around. That's all part of being dead. Worse yet, they seem rather intent on eating things, especially people. Tens of millions of abominations roam the streets, driven by their most basic instincts. That's slow zombies mind, cause with fast ones, I'm boned. Maybe I'll meet a fiery latina chick who's packing a pair of smoking .45s and a body to match. Being that I'm the last man on the planet, she might even give me the time of day. After we've had that awkward first meeting where we almost kill one another, and then grow to respect each other's skills after a series of dangerous encounters with the walking dead and the driving soon-to-be-dead(Did I mention she was a biker slaying badass?) Oh yes, I likes the odds, come on zombies!

Global Warming - The hippies were right, we should have invested in electric car technology and solar/wind power sooner. Fucking hippies. With suddenly racheted up global temperatures the polar ice caps seem to have gone and melted. And now wouldn't you know it, the Dakotas are under a hundred feet of sea water. Kind of crappy, because A) I hate seafood and B) I get seasick. But thems the digs when you mess with mother nature. Hell, If Kevin Costner can deal with it and grow a set of gills to boot, how hard can it be?

Alien Invasion - So, after decades of searching and wondering, we've finally made contact with ET. They crossed the vast light years through the emptiness of space to make contact with our puny species. Then, after we've clearly trashed our planet worse than a rockstar in a cheap hotel room in Cleveland after a lousy gig. The dicks. Well, we've either been annihilated or rounded up and sold into slavery. Whichever, yours truly has dibs on leading the resistance. Hail to the king baby.

Resource Wars - Imagine battling it out with roving gangs of bikers for just a few drops of juice. I know, that was the plot of Mad Max, but hell who can resist? Especially with ever rising gas-prices? Hell, we might be down to bicycles and our own feet. With the smart ones getting high-tech equine burden systems - Horses.

Nuclear exchange - This one isn't that difficult to imagine is it? I mean it's right out of the nightmares of anyone who grew up in the 50s. 60s. 70s. And 80s. Two nuclear powers decide to slug it out with doomsday devices that would give the Perilous Dr. Frakktacular a joygasm just to see in a catalog. Cities disappear in great balls of nuclear fire, shaking our nerves and rattling our brains. A race of intelligent mutant frogs take over the wastelands, and the remnants of the cities are held by vicious gangs who have a strange tendency to throw together their uniforms out of what-ever strange cast-offs that come into their hands. Really, they look like punk hookers who frequent the dumpster behind the Goodwill, but don't tell them that, all the fall out leaves them feeling a mite delicate.

Next time? Skill numero Uno.