BRING BACK THE DIRIGIBLE, I DECLARE!

by Jonty
Originally posted on Jonty City





You may think I've been sucking on helium-3, but just think about it:

Dirigibles use tiny amounts of fuel. A well-designed dirigible can go for 6,000 miles without stopping to refuel.

Dirigibles can carry incredibly heavy payloads. Dirigibles are currently being used on some desert construction sites to move payloads that the ground equipment cannot budge. Also, it takes no more fuel to carry more weight.

Dirigibles are much faster than you think. Okay, maybe not as fast as a truck driver strung out on uppers and Mountain Dew, but they can cruise at about 45 mph. The army has one that can do 80.

"What about hurricanes?" I hear you protest. Well, theoretically dirigibles could be safer in hurricane conditions than land vehicles because it would be really hard to get a flying dirigible into a hurricane, whereas a truck driver strung out on uppers and Mountain Dew might drive right into the storm before realizing that he's not hallucinating it.

"Don't dirigibles explode?" you may ask. Not when they're filled with helium. Also, they can take a surprising amount of damage without farting through the sky like an untied balloon.


All this is a vital part of my plans for the future. When I'm not scouring the post-apocalyptic aftermath in my armored dune buggy, I could be sailing high above the landscape in my dirigible wearing leather goggles and spying on the cannibals. Just try and shoot me! I'll fly above the range of your flintlock rifles and drop hand-made petrol bombs on you all.

WHERE IS MY POST-APOCALYPTIC AFTERMATH?

by Jonty
Originally posted on Jonty City






When I was in high school, I watched a lot of B-grade science fiction movies on late-night cable. These movies virtually promised me that by this point in my life I would be driving an armored dune buggy through a post-apocalyptic aftermath that looks a lot like the area around Barstow, escaping from mohawked cannibals as I search for more fuel.
Where is the world that I was promised? I have the dune buggy. I've been working on the grizzled and slightly sinister looks and hairstyle that the lead male requires. But no dice.
Instead, I am forced to spend the best years of my life paying off my Ford Focus and eating breakfast burritos on the way to my job talking on the phone in a cloth-covered office cubicle.

I WANT MY POST-APOCALYPTIC AFTERMATH.