So the other day while I was doing my bi-monthly ironing (why yes, I iron two weeks worth of shirts in one shot), I was flipping through the channels and I happened to stumble across “Doomsday Bunkers: A Prepper’s Paradise.”

It’s APOCALYPTICATASTROPHAGEDDONASTIC!

(Hmmm … can’t believe that spellcheck says that’s not a word!)

Anyway, this show is about Deep Earth Bunker, a Texas company that builds super-fortified shelters—safe rooms, underground bunkers and tsunami pods (yes, really)—and the clients they service. As you can see, it’s trying to cash in on the prepper phenomenon that seems to be the latest trend invading reality TV.

In the episode I saw, they were testing a prototype door—because “any bunker is only as strong as its door!”—by having four police SWAT team members shoot it with AR-15s and other assault weapons, and then after surviving that, by attaching 3 pounds of TNT to the door and detonating it. The door survived both tests, so the door’s engineers and preppers were all giddy, and I assume retired to their respective bunkers to whack off.

Seriously though, I have to call “overkill” on this one. Or “crazy.” I’ll let you make the choice.

First off, I’m a former boy scout, so I’m definitely down with “Be Prepared,” and after the last few big storms/blizzards/cicada plagues we’ve experienced, I definitely have increased the amount of dried goods and bottled water that we keep around the house. Heck, I’ve even priced generators. Even in the fable of “The Ant and the Grasshopper,” I fall a lot closer to “ant” and laugh at the grasshoppers I see around me every day, imagining the days that they will be freezing to death in the snow outside the window of my toasty warm living room … metaphorically, of course.

So I get it the concept, and to me, stocking up a little, having extra batteries on hand, making sure we have enough bread and milk, etc., seems like a sensible response to the possibility of more severe storms.

Next, as someone who deeply appreciates organization—I’ve actually photographed my sister-in-law’s closet …

… because it’s a thing of beauty that makes me question whether I married the right Nofi sister (I did!)—I also understand the obssessive joy of neatly storing and labeling lots of stuff.

Thirdly, if you live in a remote area or one that’s susceptible to regular catastrophic weather events like tornadoes, hurricanes or earthquakes, I really do understand why you may even have a storm cellar and an overly stocked pantry. Your concern is legitimate.

However, building an entire underground steel-reinforced, energy-independent, bomb-proof bunker stocked with enough food, water, guns and ammo to last your family indefinitely in case civilization completely disintegrates? That’s not survival, that’s just lunacy.

Now I know that some prepper-friendly folk out there might say the preppers are doing it to protect their loved ones, trying to ensure that they will survive in the face of severe events, but as my wife pointed out, if you spend every waking moment planning and prepping for that marginally possible eventuality, and then just anxiously wait for “THE END” to come so that you can start living—that’s not living, my friend.

But let’s give preppers the benefit of the doubt here. Say some sort of cataclysmic event befalls us all, and the preppers manage to survive it in their bunkers. Great! They outwit, outplay and outlast us all, and they get the sweet smug self-satisfaction of being right. But then what?

If it’s the end of the society as we know it, and you can’t venture out because of pillaging rapists,  nuclear devastation or flesh-hungry melon-headed mutants, how long are you going to really last? Weeks? Months? Years? Whatever the time frame, it’s probably not “the rest of your life,” so then what? As soon as you open that bomb-proof hatch and let in the new world order, whatever it be, all your prepping is for naught.

In short, you *have* to keep the door closed. Ooopsie!

Bottom line: You’re stuck “living” in your bunker until you die, go insane or are killed and eaten by those locked inside with you who have gone insane. Again, not really “living.”

In “Doomsday Bunkers,” the preppers set up their survival spaces with all the comforts of their regular homes, complete with computers and TVs, which I find especially amusing, you know, because if society collapses, the intrawebz will still work and you’ll still be able to watch Honey Boo Boo. How come none of these preppers are lining the bunker walls with the complete works of Plato, Dickens and Shakespeare? Heck, even the complete works of Stephen King would be a step in the right direction of trying to preserve human culture for future (most likely, inbred) generations. Seasons 1-5 of “The Real Housewives of West Bumblefrack” should not be the record left by homo sapiens for whomever or whatever comes next.

Speaking of human—and inhuman—culture: If you’re one of those legitimately prepping to survive the zombie apocalypse, here’s a tip that might save you some time and effort: Close the book or turn off your TV BECAUSE THEY ARE FICTIONAL CREATIONS!! Really, citing them as an excuse for such preparation is like sleeping with a garlic necklace on and a wooden stake by your bed in the event that sparkly vampires show up—an exercise in futility (because they don’t exist, either!). Sorry.

Still, Darwin tells us the strong shall survive, so if this all plays out to the worst doomsday scenario, does this mean the slightly disillusioned are the strongest of all? I guess they may laugh last, but I’m not sure they’ll really be laughing best.