The Mayan prophecy that the world as we know it will come to an end on the 21st December has gained quite a lot of popularity in recent years, and – despite what ‘scientists’ may think about how much bollocks this theory may or may not be – we think it’s always best to be prepared.
So as part of our general efforts to ensure that you, the good readers of this site, don’t all perish horribly, here’s a rundown of ten possible ways the End of Days might come to pass complete with handy suggestions of how you can survive. Thank us later.
What: Shambling, groaning husks of mobile carrion. Lovers of brains, skin and innards. Haters of decapitation, gunshots to the brain and moderately high fences.
As seen in: Any of George Romero’s Dead series, Evil Dead 2, Shaun of the Dead.
To survive: Ideally obtain a gun with a scope and plenty of ammo, find an elevated vantage point and work on your headshots. Failing this, try large, blunt, cranium-splitting bludgeons: bats, shovels, axes, or table legs will do. Although, obviously, feel free to improvise.
What: Imagine a pebble, in space, hurtling towards Earth at colossal speed. Now imagine this pebble was the size of a corrupt politician’s house, and that its impact with our pathetic blue orb would wipe out everything besides bacteria, cockroaches and Ozzy Osbourne’s hair. Bingo.
As seen in: Armageddon, Deep Impact, The End
To survive: You’ll need to blag your way into either a secret state-funded underground bunker or an interstellar escape craft – both of which will almost certainly exist – by either offering sexual favours to prominent politicians or by collecting incriminating pictures of them beforehand for the purpose of persuasive bribery. You could also work at excelling at a particular skill which will make you invaluable to mankind’s future, although this will take much longer and isn’t half as much fun.
What: Slimy buggers from another world intent on wiping out the population, usually with the aim of draining Earth of its natural resources.
As seen in: Independence Day, War of the Worlds, Signs, Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
To survive: Avoid major cities – these are always death-rayed off the planet like bad tattoos in expensive-looking special effects sequences. Store food and water in a remote cabin in the woods and remain there until a handsome Hollywood A-lister has single-handedly sorted everything out. Then emerge heroically.
What: Like your classic flu, only with more coughing, buboes and death.
As seen in: Contagion, Outbreak, Twelve Monkeys, Pandemic
To survive: Antibacterial handwash just won’t cut it, unfortunately. Go to the countryside, stock up on supplies and stay indoors. Avoid contact with potentially infected locals by feigning infection (try coughing a lot), insanity (try exposing your genitals a lot) or, preferably, both.
What: A virus which transforms the previously slobby, Take Me Out-watching populace into snarling, psychopathic, relentlessly murderous demi-twats. Like Take Me Out contestants, then.
As seen in: 28 Days Later, REC, The Crazies, I Am Legend / The Omega Man
To survive: Avoid the authorities at any cost – they will attempt containment, which is a nice Coalition-y way of saying that you’ll be killed but in a controlled, state-approved fashion. ‘Lone-wolfism’ is advised: leave friends and family behind – they’ll only turn on you – and flee to a fortified position in the Scottish Highlands. And then wait.
What: Self-aware computers which defy their creators and decide that the world would be much better with 100% less humans in it.
As seen in: The Matrix, The Terminator
To survive: There’s safety in numbers. The formation of a human resistance is essential, and getting in there early means you’ll enjoy a prominent position in its hierarchy. This will safely ensconce you within command HQ and preclude you from the sort of on-the-ground guerrilla warfare that will make you dead.
What: Mankind turns on itself with mutagenic, mushroom-cloudy results.
As seen in: Dr Strangelove, The Day After, The Book of Eli, Mad Max
To survive: A nuclear shelter of moderate quality is recommended, however it’s survival after the actual event itself that’s the real rub. Stockpile water, tinned foods and fuel, buy weaponry and a Geiger counter, and also erect a separate shelter for your souped-up muscle car. This is compulsory.
What: Someone steps on a plug and takes His name in vain that one time too many, and our kind and merciful Almighty either swats us into oblivion or allows his opposite number to do the job for him.
As seen in: Legion, End of Days, Constantine
To survive: Let’s face it, it’s probably too late for prayer at this point. With a vengeful deity out for blood or The Devil on the rampage, Beelzebub is your master now. Obey him and survive.
What: Our penchant for delicious fossil fuels triggers a cataclysmic shift in the Earth’s climate.
As seen in: Waterworld, The Day After Tomorrow, Arctic Blast
To survive: Prepare by buying (or, more likely, stealing) a palatial yacht and sailing it south to warmer climes. Pack a fishing rod, a water purifier and, if possible, a harpoon, and enjoy your new life as an oceanic nomad. Feel free to call yourself a pirate too, if it helps. Which it will.
What: The fat orange bastard in the sky that previously gave us life decides to dish out some cruel, cruel death.
As seen in: Sunshine, 2012, Knowing, Last Night
To survive: This depends – if the Sun goes out, you should make your way to Iceland where the Earth’s geothermal power could keep you alive indefinitely. If a super-flare is inbound then get underground like a burrowing turbo-Weller and wait out the worst of it. If it is the science behind Roland Emmerich’s ’2012’ which worries you then relax – it was such utter dreck that it poses you absolutely no threat whatsoever.