![]() ![]() But after that, not only can’t the ship move anywhere, none of its mechanical systems will work. Amazingly, the ship holds enough gas to sail at top speed for 10 days, traveling about 7,800 miles. According to this fact sheet, it consumes an ungodly 18.05 tons of fuel PER HOUR. The Queen Elizabeth II probably has one of the largest tanks of any ship afloat, since it has to cross the Atlantic without running dry. This thing makes a Hummer look like a Volt.īut let’s get serious for a moment: there are a lot of practical problems to living on a cruise ship indefinitely. And then, finally, when the accumulated mass of a million zombies has reached the ship, so that I can hear their gray fingers clawing across my steel hull, I simply fire up the propellers and move the damn thing another hundred feet out.Īm I enjoying this fantasy too much? Is this weird? I can see myself standing on the Pool Deck, calmly watching their mad struggles as I sip my drink, perhaps playing an idle game of shuffleboard to pass the time. I suppose eventually, the zombies might potentially fill in all of New York harbor, like a writhing, moaning landfill. In time, the zombies would form a massive pile at the shoreline, so that the new zombies would have to crawl over the squishy, bloated backs of the old zombies before they too rolled into the cold surf. The zombies wouldn’t die underwater, but many would get tangled in the muck/industrial waste that forms the bottom of the harbor. I watch a seemingly endless stream of the living dead pour out of the financial district, stumble across Bowling Green, and fling themselves into the ocean, like so many decomposing lemmings. I gleefully imagined the ship parked in New York harbor, with me on the deck taunting the hordes with my juicy, overthinking brain (in the fantasy, I have shaved my head for maximum taunting). It is universally accepted that zombies don’t swim. Should have waited an hour after eating braaaaaaains. So living in New York, I’ve gradually come to accept my doom. I wouldn’t be surprised if the military panicked and fire-bombed the entire city. And although I’m a proud Democrat, and I believe in the government’s ability to accomplish many things, I don’t have much hope that FEMA can take on a zombie horde before I run out of Easy Mac.Īctually, the zombies may never have a chance to get be. But staying put is really gambling that the government will be able to turn the tide and fight back the zombie menace, or release some sort of airborne cure, or organize some sort of massive rescue effort. ![]() I figure I could make it a month or two, no sweat. (I live in East Harlem, where we take front doors seriously.) I’ve got plenty of canned food, and I could get plenty of clean water out of the tap before that goes kaput. ![]() If I lock my front door, I’m pretty sure the zombies aren’t getting in. But I might not even get that far – in the pseudo-zombie film I Am Legend, the government quarantines Manhattan and blows up the bridges. I’m probably going to end up dashing across a bridge, carrying my son and my XBox on my back, trying desperately to escape the tristate area before it becomes the DIEstate area. But when the zombies hit Manhattan, the odds of me getting a Metro-North ticket out of here are pretty slim. That was true even in the days of the Decameron, in which the frame story involves young Florentines fleeing the Bubonic Plague to a villa in the countryside. All pandemics hit the major urban areas first and hardest. But one major disadvantage to living here is that I will most likely be devoured by flesh-eating zombies. New York has many things going for it–world-class museums, vibrant nightlife, and a subway system that you are legally allowed to pee in (I’m pretty sure). This is like Hometown Buffet for the living dead. ![]()
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