One doomer's alcohol may be another doomer's prayer slurpy. Or the doomer who sits back to ponder our unfolding story with a bag of microwave-popped popcorn. I'm personally too old to prep as a hoped-for way to eke out a few extra years surviving civilizational collapse (should it occur before I die from "natural causes"). In the meantime, I enjoy watching my koi have fish sex in late February because the weather is so warm they naturally think it's time to fertilize some eggs to propagate the next generation of water creatures. Maybe Davie Jones is having a drink sitting on his locker in the down, down, deep.