Olivia Teytelbaum | PhobiaPhiles

It was during my recent reading of a fascinating online Web comic, XKCD, that I discovered a phobia that tickled my fancy. The designer of the comic, ex-NASA scientist and all-around intelligent guy Randall Munroe, has an acute fear of Velociraptors. Now, you may be thinking, "Psh. Olivia. We're sorry to inform you that dinosaurs are extinct, and that fearing something nonexistent is pretty irrational." I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but you're wrong. People fear irrational things all the time - from balloons popping to foreigners to cheese. I think fearing something as downright terrifying as a Velociraptor is not only rational, but most assuredly a safe bet to place if "Jurassic Park" (1993) ever becomes a reality. I mean, in all honesty - how rational is a fear of the dark? Or of spiders? Or of strange foods? Let's not even go as far as mentioning mythical beings like the boogie man or ghosts. With science moving in the direction it's been headed, there's no telling what they might hatch up next. So, now that we're sufficiently convinced that raptorophobia is a legitimate fear, how can you protect yourself against these cretaceous terrors? The first step is to transform your home into a raptor-repellent stronghold. Here is an excerpt from my four-step guide, entitled "Conquering the Raptor Menace," which I have forwarded on to Home and Garden. Look for it in their fall issue. Step One: Raise all windows. A low-lying or open window is practically an invitation for these beasts. The general size of the window matters little; most people forget that raptors are actually much smaller than those that appeared in Steven Spielberg's 90's thriller. A relative of the chicken (interestingly enough), the raptor's name translates to "quick thief." You can bet your bum these suckers aren't in it for your grandma's jewelry. They'll steal your life the first chance they get! Step Two: Keep random stashes of dried meat handy throughout your premises. If you failed to heed my previous advice and find yourself experiencing the unpleasant misfortune of temporarily co-inhabiting with a raptor, you're gonna want something to throw at it. Something to keep it distracted. Dried meat does this trick. Keep in mind, I don't mean beef jerky. I mean a thick, juicy steak. I call these "meat frisbees." The raptor is likely to be temporarily distracted by the large and surprisingly light piece of carcass you have just hurled at it. It won't eat it (since it isn't stupid, and everyone knows fresh is so much better when given the option), but this might be just enough time for you run to your hermetically-sealed human vault. Step Three: Build a hermetically-sealed human vault. The ideal would be to have one located on every level of your house, because, let's face it, there's no outrunning a raptor. You're gonna wanna take refuge as fast as possible, probably while it's busy turning your small children/family pets into appetizers. Raptors have a sense of smell keener than a shark's, so it is absolutely imperative that the vault have a hermetic air-lock entrance if you ever plan on leaving. Raptors have been known to steak out their prey for weeks if promised the possibility of a tasty meal. It should go without saying that the vault should be equipped with enough supplies to last you and your loved ones around two weeks. Don't forget the CB radio. Step Four: Arm yourself for the showdown. Velociraptors, in reality, are much smaller than those we've been exposed to in the movies. While a 9mm handgun is likely to make a dent if properly aimed, the chances of you getting a clear shot without the outcome of failure being death is remote. I'd say a shotgun or grenade launcher is your best bet. All you need is a wide-impact radius. You don't want to be counting on accuracy at a time like this. Why am I telling you all of this now? Velociraptors, the ancestors of our modern-day chickens, have taken note from on high of the suffering we have inflicted on their brethren. PETA, who works in close conjunction with the North Atlantic Velociraptor Union (NAVU), has tried desperately to change our treatment of the egg-laying fowl, but to no avail. Within the next few weeks, the raptor apocalypse will be nigh. Don't say I didn't warn you when an elite army of stalking raptors saunters through your garden, looking in at you through windows and admiring your tasty babies. If you look past their short, atrophied arms towards their powerful legs, you'll see scythe-shaped claws that rip flesh like a kid through a gift on Christmas morning. Their superior intellect, coupled with lighting fast speeds, makes them a more worthy opponent for an F-16 fighter jet than an unarmed man. They'll begin their slaughter at nearby fast-food joints, and work their way through our schools and neighborhoods until there is nothing left but an advanced empire of chickens: the Kluck Kluck Klan. Don't panic. There's something you can do: go vegan. There is rumor that they will spare the herbivorous humans and use us for slave labor. If that's not your style, I'm afraid the meat frisbee will be your best line of defense. Godspeed, my brothers. I'll see you all in slave labor.Olivia Teytelbaum is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. She can be reached at Olivia.Teytelbaum@tufts.edu.