Inordinate Ordnance: Those who do nothing are the worst

Thursday, July 19, 2012


Written by Chris Carr

Inordinate Ordnance is the weekly column of The Cannon Editor-in-Chief, Chris Carr. It ranges in content from political strife to social commentary, from popular culture to cult classical. But it is always aimed at the general stupidity of the world we live in.


I, like thousands upon thousands of others, religiously tuned in to watch Lost every week, without falter. For you that aren’t familiar with the show, (I’m talking to our readers on the Moon) Lost follows the adventures of survivors of a plane crash, who find themselves on a deserted island. As the show goes on, they find not only is it not deserted, but it also has mysterious powers.

If you’re a fan, you know about the myriad plot holes that plagued the show. But one of the biggest plot holes—the biggest for me—was why on earth would anyone want  to get off the island at all. This notion of getting off the island, perpetuates the plot for the entirety of the show (except when they want to go back, but that doesn’t lend itself to my argument, so I’m rejecting that bit. It’s my party, I can cry if I want to).

What about Gilligan’s island? They have a coconut radio, hammocks and Ginger, tell me again, why are we trying to get away from this? I wish I had an excuse to grow the mother of all beards like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. I can deal with volleyball friends, if it takes me away from all this.

You know what I mean, this. The endless spectacle of debutantes and Simon Cowells. Away go the AIGs, the Stephen Harpers, the Kate Goslings, the Tea Partiers and the people on the bus who play their music so loud, that everyone knows California girls are, apparently, unforgettable, with an affinity for melting confectionary treats. Away go the Katy Perrys of the world.

This is why the zombie apocalypse (or any post-apocalyptic genre), is so popular with college dudes and bearded columnists. It is the fantasy of escapism. Imagine tomorrow, the zombie apocalypse happened, would that not set your priorities on a more manageable course?

Step 1: Board up the windows.

Step 2: Find a weapon.

Step 3: Use said weapon against anyone who wants to eat you.

That’s pretty much it. On a deserted island, the biggest concern is shelter, maybe some food? So you make a lean-to in an afternoon, eat some bananas and get to work on a sweet tan. I’d be a much more civil person away from civilization.  

One of the biggest things to go, would be the concept of money and that is the most alluring idea to come out of any post-apocalyptic scenario. The punched-out visage of the green queen on the twenty will, finally, be worth its weight. It may be anarchistic, but is it any more sinister than how the rich treat the poor around the world. At least it would be fair. Harvey Dent had a point.

This is where my sanity lies, in the fiction of the Big Reset. Either that, or our species finally starts to reach it’s full potential and we begins to visit other planets. In that case, I’ll be on the first ship to Naboo or Planet Trump, whichever comes first. But with severe cutbacks to space programs, it’s becoming more and more unlikely and the Big Reset becomes more realistic.

Granted, if I had access to the permanent lifeboat that too many people live on—I’m talking to you 1 per cent—my opinion might be one of preservation.

It’s a nihilistic approach to the problem. If I don’t care, I can’t feel the pain of another  61.1 per cent participation in a federal election.  It seems like a laundry list of problems I am spewing, and it is, but it is aimed at bringing to light to problem with fictional escapism: it will always be fiction.

Maybe nuclear war will break out. It’s possible a pandemic of rabies will sweep the nation. Perhaps, I get stuck on a deserted island, but it’s unlikely. Since I am stuck here, among the wreckage of good-intentions, I feel it’s my duty to create my own oasis within it. Stuff sucks, to put it bluntly. But if I do nothing, I am just as guilty as those who willingly refuse to acknowledge to problem. Guiltier still than those to actively destroy what stuff does not suck. So if all this seems harsh and anarchistic, it’s because people are playing their music too loudly on the bus, and that’s the first step to the world of Mad Max.


Chris Carr is Editor-in-Chief of The Cannon. Inordinate Ordnance publishes every Thursday in The Cannon and in The Ontarion Student Newspaper at the University of Guelph.

The opinions posted on thecannon.ca reflect those of their author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Central Student Association and the Guelph Campus Co-op. We encourage all students to submit opinion pieces, including ones that run contrary to the opinion piece in question.

| More


Back to Top

No comments

Share your thoughts

Bookstore First Year