The world is changing.

The world has changed.  I feel it in the water.  I feel it in the Earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost.  In the land of Washington D.C., in the fires of the Oval Office the dark lord Obama forged a government shutdown.  Into the shutdown he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life. One by one the government parks and war memorials beheld the power of the shutdown.

But there were some who resisted.  And they fought for the freedom of their land.  Victory was near but the power of the shutdown could not be undone.  The hearts of men are easily corrupted and the shutdown of power has a will of its own.

History became legend.  Legend became myth.  Rumors grew of a shadow in Washington D.C. and of a nameless fear. The shutdown of power grew.

The time will come when bloggers will shape the fortunes of all.

My name is Manhattan Infidel.  And this is my story of survival in the post-apocalyptic government shutdown world.

Tuesday October 8th 2013

My portable generator kicked in this morning when the power went out.  I looked out my window and saw Con Ed workers being tortured and eaten.  Fools.  Get their knowledge on how to keep the electric grid up and running before you eat them.

But I guess I can’t blame my fellow humans.  Food is scarce.

The roads are peopled by gangs looking for food.  I think it’s October but I can’t be sure.  Each day is more gray than the one before.  It’s cold and growing colder as each day the world dies without the Federal government.  No animals have survived, having already been eaten since the shelves are bare in the supermarkets.

The roads are peopled by refugees towing carts.  Cannibalism is the great fear.  That and the possibility that the Federal government will never come back and mankind will be on its own.

I have knives in my apartment.  They are necessary for self-defense.  I usually strap a few to my belt before I venture out.  I also put on a football helmet to protect myself from projectiles hurled from the tops of buildings.

The memories of the pre-shutdown world are disappearing from mankind.  Sometimes I tell the locals in the neighborhood stories of courage and justice.  Of a land called America where the rule of law was supreme.  Where people put black stuff in their cars that enabled them to drive long distances.  All that is gone now. Never to return unless the Federal government shutdown ends and they go back to providing us with free stuff.

The cars are still useful but as barricades against acts of aggression from rival war lords.

I had a run-in today with such a war lord.  He told me to hand over my knives and my football helmet.  I sliced his throat back to his spinal cord and drank his blood.  I don’t enjoy drinking blood but his gang was watching and now they know I am the dominant war lord in my neighborhood.  They fear me now.  And that is good.

At night I close my windows.  I keep sharps objects by the windows just in case my apartment is raided.  Since no one has shoes anymore I’ll be awakened by the screams of the invaders as they look at their lacerated feet.  (I saw this tactic in a Macauley Culkin movie once.)  I must study this warlord.  He has much to teach me.

My number one priority is protecting my portable generator.  Without that I cannot continue to document the post-apocalyptic world I inhabit.

Also it comes in handy when I want to update my Facebook status.

This is Manhattan Infidel signing off hopefully for not the last time.

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