By Chad Love

For a number of years following the end of World War II, Japanese soldiers would occasionally emerge from the jungles in the Pacific theater, either unwilling to believe or unaware that the war was over. The last verified Japanese holdout came out of hiding in the Philippines and officially surrendered back in 1974. It's an incredible story, but a piece in this month's Smithsonian magazine tops it, in both longevity and in the sheer harshness of the landscape in which it occurs. In 1978, Soviet geologists discovered a family of six eking out a desperate existence in the depths of the vast Siberian taiga. They had been living there, completely cut off from all human contact, completely unaware of events like WWII, since 1936.

by Chad Love

So what would your family do as the world is being vaporized by mutually assured thermonuclear destruction? Well, if you were lucky enough to be a proactive Popular Science subscriber in 1951, you'd probably be cozily hunkered down in your "family foxhole," where you’d be blithely going about your business, cheerfully and wholesomely preparing for Armageddon as untold megatons of radioactive hellfire rained down from above. Because that's just how make-believe families in the '50s-era rolled... Cool stuff, sort of a "Leave It To Beaver" meets "On The Beach" mash-up ...via BoingBoing.

What do you think would be the modern equivalent of the family foxhole? How would you build it, what would you put in it, and if you had to use it, would you be nearly as happy and nonchalant as the family on the cover? And just how good are those Russian guns?

By Chad Love

As the drought afflicting the southern part of the nation deepens, wildlife is moving out of the woods and into our yards in search of what little food and water is available.

From this story in the Houston Chronicle: 
The rat looked dead. It was face down, arms splayed, in the big shallow pan of water placed near the fence as succor for the wildlife suffering in adjacent woods left blistering hot and deadly dry by Texas' ongoing drought. Every morning, we'd fill the pan with clean, cool water and then watch as a steady parade of wildlife trickled from the woods to slake their obviously considerable thirst or nibble at the mix of millet, sunflowers, shelled corn and other food we scattered for them. There were cat squirrels, swamp rabbits, possums, coons and all manner of birds. It was an all-day procession, a sure sign the deepening drought was causing wildlife that normally survived by living wary and crepuscular lives to do something they normally would not do - abandon the cover of the forest and expose themselves in a wide-open yard during the middle of the day to get a drink of water or a bite of food...The rat, it turned out, wasn't dead at all. It was simply floating in the water, trying to keep cool and hydrated.

By Dave Hurteau

What would it take for you to summon Search and Rescue? Lost for a day? Mauled by a bear? Fell out of your treestand? How about, tasted some salty water?