Editor’s Note: Reader be warned, as the following is a hyper-aggressive vularthon between two of our most entertaining and unique voices. Send the kids out of the room, and enjoy…

In the aftermath of the release of The Book of Eli this weekend, thoughts of a post-apocalyptic world begin to fill our cinema-infused brains. In the opinion of FSR there would only be two post-apocalyptic scenarios. The real question becomes, which would you rather live through? Jorge Sosa and FSR’s resident devil’s advocate Josh Radde debate.

Opening Statement (Jorge)

Josh,

You’ve presented me with a difficult choice. Picking which would be the best post-apocalyptic scenario to actually live out is like picking one’s favorite cancer. Clearly, this debate topic was the shoe-polish-huffing-induced-delusion of one sick fuck, but I’ll be a good sport. I’ll play along, if only because I enjoy arguing circles around the mentally challenged.

It’s self-evident that life after a nuclear holocaust is preferable to a life under a zombie outbreak.

As the Mad Max trilogy shows us, the most likely threat to my survival is either gonna be bikers or Tina Turner. Bikers would be easy to dispatch, especially since the preferred method of travel in a post-nuke world is a supercharged V8 interceptor. The laws of physics dictate that in a battle between a crotch-rocket and a ’70s-era muscle car, the muscle car will win. Every. Fucking. Time.

And Tina Turner? She might have been hot shit in her day, but she’s getting old, man. I can easily take her, especially if you hang a couple Slinkies from her head to throw off her balance, and weigh her down with some ridiculously huge shoulder pads.

A less likely scenario is predicted by the Planet of the Apes series. In this case, the greatest threat would be some talking gorillas and orangutans armed with light weapons and their own feces. I deliberately left the talking chimpanzees out of the equation because the film series shows they can be easily turned to our side. Just think, Josh, in a mixed human-chimpanzee society, you might actually finally get some!

But, just to play devil’s advocate, let’s assume the worst possible post-nuclear outcome. Let’s assume the Terminator series is accurate and humans are driven underground and outgunned by sentient machines. No problem. I’ll just build myself a time machine, zip back to the 1980s, bang Linda Hamilton, and kick back in my velcro Air Kyle Reese Nikes. Suh-weet.

Make it easy on yourself, Josh. Concede victory now.

Counter Argument (Josh)

My goodness sir–

So quick with the personal attacks! According to your opening statement I am “mentally challenged,” a “sick fuck,” and a dude who can’t get laid unless my slampiece happens to be a talking simian primate — when in fact only ONE of those things is actually true. But personal attacks do not a valid argument make as witnessed by basically anything you see on Fox News (btw, you are finally home Sarah Palin…welcome). You’d rather survive nuclear holocaust? Are you high?

Surviving a zombie invasion would be far “better” for 3 main reasons:

1. You’d be one bad Mutha. Living through nuclear catastrophe would mainly just be luck. You’d have to hope you’re in the right place at the right time to get through it. Being one of the lone humans surviving a zombie takeover would mean that you are a supreme human. When everyone else was dying (or becoming zombies themselves) by the hands and spit of the living dead, you were out there takin’ chainsaws and baseball bats and anything that makes a sizable boom and clubbing those slow-walking-drool-faced fucks until their brains became wallpaper patterns. You could take on a whole new identity. You could become a badass like Woody Harrelson in Zombieland or like when Cillian Murphy goes all Die Hard at the end of 28 Days Later. You can have your Tina Turner, sally boy; I’ll go decapitate the likes of Zombie Michael Bay or Zombie Oprah (in fact, it shall be my mission).

2. Strategy. Movies like Dawn of the Dead have it all wrong. Malls are too big; too many ways in. Give me a Super Target. You’ve got your big screen TVs, Starbucks, Pizza Hut, a grocery store, stuff like bikes and axes and sporting goods and only a couple entrances to keep an eye on (plus I just don’t agree with Wal-Mart’s business philosophy). Hit up a gun shop on the way, load up on the ammo, and you’re good. Plus Target will have some sort of facemask or latex bodysuit so you can protect yourself from infection. That’s what I never get about zombie movies. THEIR BLOOD CAN INFECT YOU! WHERE A FUCKING MASK!

3. No nuclear fallout. So let’s say you survive a nuclear holocaust. Ok. As soon as you walk outside you’ll grow a useless third arm coming out of your back or eyebrows on your asshole. Plus, You’d have to re-start civilization. I don’t just mean seed-speading with all the fertile females still alive, but a nuclear holocaust will wipe out satellites, buildings, and basically the entire infrastructure of the world. But once the zombies have had their fill of brains, they’ll just die of starvation. Destroying our internet or the way we communicate with each other isn’t really their M.O. Life can exist after a zombie takeover; not so easily after nuclear devastation.

So go ahead and build your time machine. But don’t go back to 1984. Go back to January 12th, 2010 and instead of wasting my time with a bullshit argument, just stick your head down your pants and fart on your face. At least it’ll smell better.

Rebuttal (Jorge)

OK, let’s take your argument and dismantle it point-by-point. This shouldn’t take long.

“I, Josh Radde, have a laughably miniscule penis.”

Confession may be good for the soul, but that’s not germane to the discussion.

“Being one of the lone humans surviving a zombie takeover would mean that you are a supreme human.”

Uh, since your line of reasoning presumes the zombies in question are of the “slow-walking-drool-faced fuck” variety, I’d say … No. Unless your name is Al Gore or John Kerry, in which case, a slow-walking-drool-faced fuck can easily make you his bitch.

“You could take on a whole new identity.”

The same goes for a post-nuclear world, since the EMPs would wipe all digital records clean. Consider Mad Max. Before society went arse-over-tits, he was a brooding , violent fascist in tight leather pants. Afterward … uh … his pants got dustier. OK. Maybe that’s not the best example.

“Give me a Super Target.”

I agree that one could comfortably live off an abandoned Super Target’s wares for some time. Have you tried their store brand pop tarts? Manna from big-box retail heaven, I tell ya. And while a conventional nuclear assault is likely to level such structures, a neutron bomb wouldn’t have such annoying side effects.

As my personal guru — J. Frank Parnell of Repo Man fame — once effused, it “destroys people. Leaves buildings standing. Fits in a suitcase. It’s so small, no one knows it’s there until – BLAMMO! Eyes melt, skin explodes, ev-ery-body dead!”

It’s a much cleaner way to dispose of the general populace then a messy zombie outbreak. And, the residual radiation will conveniently toast all those scrumptious Target-brand pop tarts for you simultaneously. Efficient. Convenient. The Neutron Bomb. Accept no substitutes.

“As soon as you walk outside you’ll grow a useless third arm coming out of your back … “

All the better to fondle those three-breasted mutant hoes, my friend.

“… or eyebrows on your asshole.”

Feh. For someone like me who is blessed with copious body hair, I’d barely notice the difference.

“Life can exist after a zombie takeover; not so easily after nuclear devastation.”

All the cinematic evidence points to the contrary. With rare exceptions, the zombies always win. It’s a convention of the genre and everyone knows movies never lie. At least in the case of a post-nuclear scenario, I wouldn’t have to constantly watch my back because some undead motherfucker was after my brains and viscera.

Which brings me to my next point. I suspect the reason you are so hot for a zombie outbreak, Josh, is you have closeted necrophiliac tendencies. In a world full of zombies, your potential dating pool would expand exponentially by the day.

You know it. That ain’t nothing but right.

Closing Argument (Josh)

In the history of Shouting Match, I don’t think I’ve ever been as confused as I am right now. I wanna have sex with dead people? Zombies always win? Target-brand pop tarts?

Look, let’s just think about it this way: You are the last human on earth. Would you rather have the entirety of the earth’s land to yourself or at least have a mission to destroy every last zombie? I would choose the latter. At least you would have something for which to live. If the zombies DO win, the fight goes through me. Know what I’m saying? Why waste away in a state of neutron evaporation just waiting to die? What fun is that? I mean, at least Will Smith had his dog in I Am Legend.

I guess that’s the chief difference between us, sir. I want my life to mean something; you just want to sit there combing your ass-brows.

So tell us, readers, which post-apocalyptic scenario would you “prefer”.


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