We know of no mechanism by which the Sun could do anything resembling what’s described in the story, but then again, when we found the progenitor star for SN1987a in archival data, that was also a star for which we knew no mechanism by which it could blow.
Luckily I need cardiac meds and diabetic meds, so I don’t need to worry about conflicting with pain med thieves. I would stock up on my meds, and synthroid for mrAru. We have an OK amount of ammo, but I think we would take the truck over to agway and grab a load of seeds and chicken feed, about 6 months worth. Seeds are for planting next spring. Fencing materials - there are a few cows down the road I think we could trade for. Some little odds and ends.
If we can snag the right truck, I am thinking a bunch of building supplies, bricks or cinderblocks, mortar, lumber and suchlike. I would like a motte and baily =)
I think a more likely scenario would be a repeat of the Carrington Event of 1859, which could destroy most of our electrical grid. Imagine being without electrical power for years.
I’d call up Leslie, invite her out for Irish Coffee and hot-fudge sundaes, and then go back to her place for hot end-of-the world sex.
Foils, sabres and epees?
I think I’m with Der Trihs on this one, with the added detail that I would head over to my mom’s place (she’s 91) and consult with her. Also my dad and his wife, who are local, my brother in Cleveland, and my brother in Hawai’i, who might just have more details than I. But my first instinct is to say that I lack the skills and/or the desire to live post-apocalypse, and it would be best for everyone, including me, to just check out. It helps that I am totally lacking in dependents, and my family is all older than I. But the real clincher is that I wouldn’t last a week in a post apocalyptic world anyway. Might as well die reasonably comfortably.
That said, if we’re really talking just solar flare here, I don’t get why it is going to have such horrible consequences. If Chronos is right, and what is meant here is a nova, then, yes, I get it.
It was a flare powerful enough to melt surface rocks on the Moon. Everybody in daylight was dead, and it put so much energy into the atmosphere and boiled away so much ocean that it caused massive worldwide flooding and storms of hurricane strength.
:eek:
OK, I get it. Der Trihs, got any painless suicide ideas?
Leaping off a cliff if there’s one handy. Or a gun, of course. Or both; leap off a cliff and shoot yourself in the head as you fall.
Quitter!
Time to hoist the Jolly Roger and start channeling your inner Mad Max. If you are going to go down, go down swinging.
Samantha: [with mock sincerity] The burden of civilization is upon us…
Danny Mason Kenner aka DMK: Ohhh.
[smiling]
Danny Mason Kenner aka DMK: Bitchin’, isn’t it?
-Night of the Comet
Silenus, I’m 55, fat, bookish, completely out of physical shape, utterly lacking any skill with weapons or any other means of getting food other than buying it, need several meds on an ongoing basis, and have other disabilities that I don’t care to go into. Plus I’d have a 91 year old mother (thankfully in excellent health) to protect and provide for, not to mention my 87 year old father and his 76 year old wife. I have nothing but trivial and useless knowledge to contribute. I have nothing to induce whatever local strongman who takes over to keep me alive, and no ability to protect myself or my elderly family. I live in a poor area where there are many people who have both weapons and a fair degree of urban survival skill. They can perhaps realistically compete in a Mad Max world, but I cannot, and it would be both silly and wasteful of much needed resources for me to try.
Der Trihs, neither method strikes me as particularly painless, and I don’t own or have access to a gun.
So? I’m 56, fat, bookish, lacking any physical shape other than “round” and have a 96-year-old mother. Granted I know how to farm and own and am proficient with more weapons than the Paraguayan army. But it’s the principle of the thing. 
Silenus, I suspect you are not female, and I don’t subscribe to your principal. It’s not “better death than dishonor” or any of that bullshit, but I don’t fancy being the whore of the lowest status men, nor do I enjoy the thought of spending the rest of my life as a cleaning drudge and child-watcher at best, being battered around by frustrated and angry men who don’t rate any more appealing sexual object than me. Primitive societies are not kind to old, childless females who have no useful skills and no social or blood ties to protect them.
In Eric Flint’s 1632 universe, I might make it, perhaps even do well. But come the apocalypse, I’m outta here.
Clarke’s “The Star” is right up there with “Inconstant Moon” for me. Haven’t read “The Dead Past” yet and I guess I need to.
Agreed with the posters who are going to try and pull through. For suicide, I’d try the helium tank/plastic bag on the head method. After drinking my last bottle of Pichon-Lalande, of course.
I’ve mentioned it before, but Charles Stross’s “Iron Sunrise” has, in its first 20 pages, a great description of what it’d be like on a planet whose sun just went nova. (Or supernova; I’m not sure which definition is more technically correct for what happens to the star.)
I didn’t read the story (I think I will) but this plot uncannily reminds me of my strange dream (mentioned in my solo effort single post thread… this might be a self serving vain effort to revive the neglected thread of mine or at least get minimum one single post acknowledging the existence of my sorry thread… sorry).
I’ve been wondering where those Arab/Hindi dignitaries and their families are flying to in those giant prop sea planes in my dream… no one was in a hurry to do or go anywhere fast although the world seemed to be coming to the end or at least catastrophic enough for us to not survive as whatever happened to the moon/debris landing on earth were causing havoc and possibly to the rotation of earth(?).
I thought they were resigned to the ultimate demise/fate and seemed to be going to a certain location(s) for some kinda communal event… gathering (of particular races or whatever sect or group or religion and perhaps there is/are more choice locations for the super wealthy folks to meet their ends hence the sea planes? Or do they have a contingency plan set up ahead for this type of very possible event happening? Don’t know… it’s a goofy weird dream but strangely stays very clearly in my head and the scenarios seems to be somewhat very similar as the story.
Me too, I was thinking that the list would be:
- Obtain assless chaps.
- Get mohawk
- Rig up some sort of mace or battleaxe out of household items and my buddy’s welding kit
- Modify my pickup to have cowhide bodywork or maybe just rig up some spiky bumpers and maybe a compressed air grappling hook system.
And don’t forget the razor-sharp boomerang.
Skald, have you seen Miracle Mile?
I don’t watch Anthony Edwards movies. Religious reaons.
Anyway, this thread is an excuse to discuss the Nivens story, and by extension all Nivens stories, and maybe other SF short stories.
That particular story (one of my fav’s) was also adapted for an Outer Limits (I think) episode as well. The ending wasn’t as good, but it was still decent.
Not nearly as good as the story, of course. I love me some Niven.