…of a Human Corpse
100 days after a living body has become a corpse, several insect species have already laid eggs on it. Larvae are feasting. The body has turned green and then brown, gases have pushed out liquids and feces, skin and hair come off easily, the body cavity has ruptured and bones appear. Insects have finished your internal organs and the skeleton has begun to deteriorate. This is the reason we bury people quickly.
…of the New York Mets
On July 17, 1962, the end of the Mets’ first 100 days as a major league expansion team, they were still playing at the Polo Grounds and they were the worst team in the National League: 24-64, 34.5 games out of first place, behind the Cubs and the year’s other new expansion team, the Houston Colt .45’s (named after the gun, not the Billy Dee Williams beverage).
…in Post-Apocalyptic America
It happens faster than you think. The descent into blood-cult anarchy and savage Darwinian agon is complete by the end of the first week. The civil authorities last three days. The decades-old ‘Murican meniscus of class resentment and caste envy spills over into widespread vengeance and retribution: neighbor on neighbor, brother on brother, generation on generation. By day 30, a whole new primeval paradigm has bloomed like so much stinkweed: slavery, sacrifice, might as right. By day 75, those who have managed to flee the cities with some fragment of civilization have secluded themselves as far away as they can; by day 90, most of them are dead. By day 100, the very few guardians of culture who have survived will begin the long, arduous task of preserving what was once good about the human family, to pass along as a sacred trust to future generations.
…of Bloomberg's First Term
After eight years of high-profile Rudy, the Bloomberg Administration’s First 100 Days were notable for how unnotable they were: his approval rating hovered around 50 percent. He was criticized for spiriting off to Bermuda without telling anyone, but he ignored it. When asked what he’d done in his first 100 days, he answered, “I got ready for the next 1,000.” Yawn.
…in the life of a new New Yorker
The first week in New York is one of the most incredible in your young life so far. There is a charge to the air, an ambient brashness that adds swagger to your walk and glint to your eye — you breathe deeply of all the life and stink and hope and despair and it’s all a little dizzying. By day 50, assuming you have a place to live, you’re either starting to internalize that New York atmosphere (of toughness, speed, openness to anything) and are adding to it, or you’re starting to fear it; if it’s the latter, your 100th day is likely to be one of your last. Assuming you’ve got the hang of it, you’ve got at least another 1,000 days before you can even begin to think about calling yourself a New Yorker. Good luck.