From the Archives is a series of reposted articles from a previous iteration of The Lindeman Daily. There is more information about that iteration of the site in the About section, but the gist is that each post is a satirical news article sensationalizing the life of a college student/recent graduate. Most of these pieces are over 10 years old; some have aged like wine while others have aged like milk. And like aged wine and aged milk, they are probably more palatable when all mixed together. Enjoy!

Originally published August 11, 2011

Wearing a trash-bag poncho, Tommy Lindeman walked around his grandmother’s summer house in Cape May, NJ as he prepared the building for the coming storm. “This is going to be big, a real game-changer.”

Hurricane Irene has already hit parts of the southern United States, and will still be a Category 2 or Category 3 storm by the time it reaches Cape May. There is a 90% chance the eye of the hurricane will hit the small island at the southern-most point of New Jersey.

“This experience is so alien to me,” said Lindeman as he taped windows and locked away patio furniture. “But I feel as if I’ve been preparing for this my entire life.” He then went into the tool shed and pulled out a sledgehammer, a large shovel, and some barbed-wire. “Still, I am having a hard time deciding whether to use the hammer or the shovel. Both would work pretty well.”

While the storm itself will be a problem, the main focus of Lindeman’s work is to prepare for the aftermath. “I can only assume that there will be large gangs of survivors traveling across the island looting, starting fires, and partying too loudly at night. I really can’t stand for that, I need to be able to sleep at night.”

Lindeman explained that he felt he had watched enough post-apocalyptic movies to know what sort of role he had to take. He plans on roaming the island, living off the remains of humanity’s past accomplishments, while trying to find his place in a new, godforsaken world.

“There obviously won’t be any sort of coherent society, so normal laws won’t apply,” said Lindeman. “I’ll be able to take food and other essential supplies from abandoned or semi-abandoned stores and homes without feeling any guilt. And that’s very important to me.”

The problem of who to trust is also something he prepared for: “I don’t think I can let anyone too close. There’s not really any reason to, and I think I’ll get by alright by myself. It doesn’t seem that strange to me. You could say I’ve never really trusted anyone in my life.”

Irene is supposed to make landfall sometime late Saturday night or early Sunday morning. Winds will reach upwards of 100 miles per hour, and waves will average out at 16 feet above their normal height.

“I’m not sure what the new form of currency will be,” said Lindeman as he sealed dry socks and Peanut Chews into a water-proof container. “Because of that, I’m collecting everything: coats, plants, bottle caps, even jokes. I won’t be the poorest person in the Cape May Wasteland.”

Despite the unknowns, Lindeman still has his eye on the prize. “The most important thing is looking the look. If I don’t look like a man struggling to live in a world that desperately wants him dead, how can I even bare to live at all? Short answer: I can’t. In fact, that’s the only answer.”

Lindeman plans on wearing torn jeans, construction boots, raggy t-shirts, and a leather duster. “Maybe a hat, too,” he said. “Who knows? Gotta look good.” Every article of clothing will be covered in dirt and grime, without exception. His main weapon of choice is still undecided, either the sledgehammer wrapped in barbed-wire, the shovel wrapped in barbed-wire, or just a lot of barbed-wire, but he will always be carrying a shotgun — if he’s able to acquire one. “It’s just a standard necessity. And it looks awesome, even unloaded. Everything comes back to the look.”

The storm is supposed to be one of the worst Cape May has seen in a century, worse than one in 1944 that washed away a large portion of the town. Residents have already been forced to leave in a mandatory evacuation but Lindeman chose to stay, mainly for the “man points.”

“I could be that mysterious guy that always shows up in the nick of time to save innocents from being killed by marauding bands of savages,” said Lindeman, as he hammered nails into a baseball bat and wrapped it in barbed-wire. “Or I could be one of those savages. A lot of the details are still up in the air.”