You could be forgiven if you didn't know the history, for thinking that this place was somehow stuck in a previous century. A whole lot of weirdness washed under the bridge, leaving the surface appearances intact. This old town has about the same population it once had, and although there's no longer such a thing as the "United States Navy," the former shipyard, which for an age was used to break up the remains of the previous age's "nuclear deterrent" is now home to a fab. Okay, sure, the fab doesn't employ anyone. Products are made and sold and shipped with not a human involved. Metal de-orbits into the Pacific water-landing zone (best not to ask where in the asteroid belt it's coming from), and is brought in across the Juan de Fuca seawall. The seawall — It's the main reason the entire region isn't under 70 feet of ocean.

Jobs? Work is where you make it. Basic income and fair housing and free medical and as much school as you can stomach — These days folks are free to find the work which makes them happiest. It was that way even before the changes — Even before things went weird on us. Some people say it’s a paradise. Others not so much. Can’t make everyone happy.

Yep, you'd be forgiven for thinking that all that weirdness missed this place completely. The entire region looks like some throwback to the old normal.

The world is in chaos as the dead rise from the grave.

Hordes of shambling undead, many with bits of rotting flesh falling off them invade every city. Here now is a typical encounter with a vegan zombie:

The scene shifts to a small, very trendy organic, gluten-free restaurant where there is a throng of the unliving pressing against the entrance. Employees and patrons alike are in abject terror as the zombies utter inarticulate moans and pound against the locked doors. It's only a matter of time before the zombies break through and finally, one does.
Patrons cower behind upturned tables as the lone breakthrough zombie shuffles across the room mysteriously ignoring them and proceeding straight to the counter where a lone teenager is operating the till. He's clearly frightened out of his wits, but he doesn't dare try to escape. There's nowhere to run to.

Teenager: May I take your order, sir.

Zombie: (in a low guttural voice) Yeeeeeeeeeeessss.

Teenager: What would you like?

Zombie: GRAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIINSSS!

Teenager: Uh... We're a gluten-free restaurant...

Zombie: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

The chaos of the vegan zombie apocalypse was thankfully brief, although several gluten free bakeries paid the ultimate price. The world learned quickly that liberally placated with meals of saitan and regular snacks of french bread, the vegan zombies were actually little threat.

Placated by copious supplies of certified organic vegetables, and GMO-free grains, the zombies of the Vegan Zombie Apocalypse eventually abandoned their assaults upon the cities of the world, settled down, and started farms. Little changed in the post-apocalyptic world, except that it was fiendishly difficult to find a gluten-free anything, and small towns across the planet experienced a renaissance of trendy, hip, vegan restaurants catering to the bizarre new local clientele.

Copyright © 2015 

Creative Commons License
A Scene From the Vegan Zombie Apocalypse by Brian McNett is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

I'd planned to post to the blog about my crowd funding campaign. That post is now unnecessary. In two days, with minimal promotion, I blew through my modest goal, and now have to consider additional "stretch" goals to deal with the fact that I've raised nearly 150% of what I intended.

I knew this is how a successful crowd funding campaign works. Nonetheless, dealing with what I understood conceptually, and the reality thereof are two vastly different things.

The plan was to ease the move-in by taking care of some very modest bits of home repair, and making sure there are curtains in each room, and a rug for the floor. Finally, because it will make my life ever so slightly more pleasant, a portion of the funds were to go to create a raised bed garden. Yes, all those things will now happen, plus I'm staring at an additional $300 or so, which means I can choose one additional project.

There's time to plan this fourth project. The ink on the signatures is barely dry and we're waiting on confirmation from the bank and a closing date. I don't even have a date for the move just yet. But I have the results of the home inspection in hand. There's some minor soil subsidence along the foundation on the east side of the house which could stand a slight berm so that water flows away from the building. The garage needs to be weatherproofed and electrified. There's really no end to small projects around even a well-maintained house.

So the extra money will find use, and I will document all of it.

I'm a little flabbergasted at how quickly this took place, however.

Yes, I'm an unabashed fan.

I consider Wil Wheaton to be an awesomely descent human being.

That's it.