K8 and I are surviving Snowzilla. We played Morels and drank wine through the worst of it yesterday. When the sun came out today, we went out take a few pinhole pictures with the Travelwide, play some Ingress and grab a few beers at Boundary Stone. The 4x5 shots from the Travelwide were supposed to be this week's picture of the week, but I can't do any developing; something's clogged up the building's main drain, and the downstairs neighbors are getting flooded out as the drain backs up through the toilets, so the water is in a self-imposed off state. No water, no developing.
I'm reading The Water Knife, so a little temporary and highly localized drought in the midst of an blizzard feels oracular, but it isn't clear if the signs say stock pile water or to buy snow boots. Anthropocene ambiguity and cognitive dissonance at work. At the moment, it's all part of the apocalyptic atmosphere. We've lived through two blizzards in DC. In both cases, the city has felt apocalyptic in the immediate aftermath. Cars abandoned in the middle of the street. Everyone on foot. A pronounced sartorial drift towards something that combines a bit of homeless chic with a higher level of personalization than the averages DCer normally allows themselves. Pedestrianism and individualistic costumery being two sure signs of the apocalypse.
The only apocalyptic trope missing is the libertarian, Darwinian violence. Instead everyone is helping their neighbors dig out. This is what an apocalypse looks like without the scarcity.