2012. The fabled year that the world ends. In early 2011 there was fervor over the idea that everything would go up in smoke. People have relaxed a lot since then, with the idea of worldly-destruction more like an inside joke that everyone is in on rather than an assured doom.
“Well, ya know, Nostradomus says we’ll all be dead anyway, right? Might as well have fun while we can!” And based off personal experience, this is not a good excuse to start making out with strangers while chanting the theme song from Pokémon.
In a previous article in The Minaret we talked about just what kind of world-ending Armageddon we could see. Because I regularly fantasize about what I would do in a zombie apocalypse, I got to wondering just how college is preparing me for some zombie killing.
Show me any red-blooded male between the ages of 18 and dead who hasn’t daydreamed at least a few times about being the survivor of a zombie story. Trapped in a mall with six young buxom women, the only age-appropriate man there, armed with nothing but a shotgun. Comforted by the knowledge that at least two of those buxom women are probably depressed and shell-shocked enough to regrettably sleep with you. What part of that doesn’t sound awesome?
Because when we imagine an apocalyptic scenario we always know we would survive. How could we not? If that skinny nerd in Zombieland can make it, why couldn’t we? There’s at least a half dozen people in The Walking Dead who shouldn’t be alive. So the idea that you would stay alive is pretty decent. We all know we would find a group of survivors to join up with before holing up somewhere to wait things out.
We just never contemplate how utterly useless we would be to said group.
I’m a double major in English and criminology. Between the two I have a pretty decent grasp of literature and I can rattle off the different theories of crime as well as the history of America’s criminal justice system.
None of those things would help in a zombie attack. No group of survivors is going to be happy to see me because I know how to write a sestina.
My degrees don’t make me prepared at all for a post-apocalyptic scenario. Only that’s the case with a lot of areas of study nowadays.
My friend the mechanical engineer would be a hot commodity. He might be a surly jerk now who hates what he does, but come the end of the world he’s going to be the person you wish you were anytime there’s a technology problem.
I have a friend who wants to go into medicine, so she studies biology and always rambles about the names of bacteria. She’s annoying as hell now, but in a world where most of the population is dead? Her stock is going to be super high. She’d be even more desirable than she already is now because of the cleavage she shows in her profile picture (you know who you are).
Hell, I have a buddy who never went to college and works construction every day. He would be far more useful than I could ever be to a survival group, simply based on what he learned from work. He’s no stranger to physical labor and knows how to build a house, whereas I’m an out-of-shape tool.
Granted, a possible zombie attack isn’t exactly a realistic reason to change majors. And I’m not saying you should. But really, how useful would any of us be in a survival setting?
Look at Lost. There’s a spinal surgeon, a former architect and some bald guy who knows how to hunt. Exactly what could I contribute to the group on the island that would make me special? I mean, I can carry stuff as well as any of the others, but there’s no special skill that would set me apart. We don’t even learn the name of a background person until they have a valuable contribution to make.
Most of the professions we value nowadays are only important because the world is the way it is. Lawyers, website designers, accountants; none would be helpful on the Lost island or in a zombie apocalypse. Only doctors are considered awesome in both worlds.
And a lot of higher learning is just as useless as what I’m doing. Business management, theater, graphic design, post-modern feminist studies; none of those are going to help you in Dawn of the Dead. Should a group accept me because I can write about what’s happening to us? My best bet would be to lie and claim my criminology degree gives me the ability to counsel people, just on the off chance that they think it is moderately useful enough to warrant bringing me along.
It’s not just my degree either; there isn’t a single thing about me that would be useful in a survival setting. I don’t have the kind of training and practical knowledge that the ROTC gives, I’ve never been hunting, hell not even my hobbies are useful.
I like to write a lot and I follow some blogs. I’d be more useless than a music major and less interesting than a media studies major.
So keep thinking that you would survive the end of the world. If you’re in ROTC, are an athlete, know how to shoot a gun, are a doctor or can be attractive enough to make someone else want to keep you alive then you’re set. If you’re none of those things, I’ll be seeing you with the rest of the zombies over there. We’re going to chase some people, but since we’re out of shape anyway they’ll probably outrun us and get away.
Rich Solomon can be reached at richard.solomon@spartans.ut.edu.