I love the French. They are kind of like Texan’s. One of a kind, proud of it and piss on the rest of you. Are they the least embarrassed about only showering once a week? No. They were Green, conserving resources, way before the rest of us lifted our heads above the pollution clouds and looked for a tree to hug. Did it embarrass them that they gave up as soon as the Nazi’s rolled into the Paris Suburbs? No. Like the rest of Europe they had seen almost an entire generation of youth perish in the trenches and they weren’t going to do the same thing over a sticking point of pride. They gladly took the nukes the Americans gave them, then pulled out of NATO ( NATO: In Search of a Vision
). Let the rest of the continent glow in the dark from fighting for American Empire. They had a deterrent, the rest of you piss up a rope. Did it bother them overly much when they finally gave up the colonies? They put up a good fight then threw in the towel. Better to enjoy life in the cafes then try to force little brown people to embrace civilization. So, here is France today, a large part of the work force on strike over a proposed plan to jack the Social Security ( or whatever they call it ) age up to ( gasp! ) 62. You got to love it. They love socialism, at least until the surplus paying for it dries up. But this is what I mean about loving them. They don’t apologize for wanting a freebie. They realize the price for it is all embracing government control and high taxes. *
Unlike certain Americans that strut around proclaiming how independent they are as they wait for the government subsidized post office ( post office: A Novel
) to drive on the government roads to deliver their pay-as-you-go-never-was-a-friggin-lockbox-so-shut-up-you-got-all-kinds-of-government-services-back-in-the-day-for-your-taxes-like-the-interstate-hiway-and-the-moon-landing-and-the-cold-war Social Security check. As I said before, you might as well spend it while you can, just don’t think it is anything other than free money. It’s not an entitlement. It’s refreshing that the French ( Instant Immersion French Deluxe v3.0
) are a bit more honest about their system. I don’t care if you’re on SS, grandpa. Enjoy my taxes. I understand. You have no other choice. You were silly enough to believe the government ( odd, I know, since its been over two generations since the JFK coup-de-ta and the Nixon coverup and you would think NOT trusting the government would have been pretty standard a long time ago ) and are now dependent on them. Just don’t take it out on me as you slowly come to the realization that the system is going broke. I’m going to get screwed by it too. Don’t get in my face about how you earned it. If you paid into the system, and I paid into the system, why is your entitlement more genuine than mine? You might have paid in a few decades longer, but your withholding rate was also much lower. It evens out. If you are on welfare, don’t make excuses. Enjoy it and rub it into our faces. *
I’m glad I got that off my chest, since it’ been MONTHS since I ragged on old guys and it was building up pressure. Today, yet another minion suggestion for an article. Thank goodness someone cares. Why you all ignore the coming apocalypse. Deep down, you know I’m right. All civilizations crash and burn so completely there is little to no record of it. Overpopulation, over utilization of the environment, screaming cannibalistic ( Greek Psycho Cannibal
) hoards killing each other off. Great fun is had by the survivors ( nothing like escaping the stew pot to make you enjoy the rest of your life ). But you do almost nothing about it, because it would interfere with your luxurious lifestyle ( which is the same reason you won’t let the SS system stop paying you until Washington DC is nuked ). Why? I advocate dirt cheap survival prepping, little more than $500 per person ( the addition of junk land [ Junk Land
] can be as little as $150 per person for a larger family-little more than a months worth of cell phone use for a lifetime of free rent ). Yet by the looks of things I am asking you to castrate yourselves with rusty dull pruning shears ( Wallace 9658 Bypass Pruner
) without mind altering substances ( Intoxication: The Universal Drive for Mind-Altering Substances
) to make it a pain free experience. It isn’t financial. It is a mental block. We’ve talked about Orr’s Law. What the Thinker thinks, the Prover proves. I picked that gem up from reading Prometheus Rising by Robert Anton Wilson ( Prometheus Rising
), a genuine hippie if there ever was one. That book is basically an instruction manual on altering your minds thinking process, to erase a life times bad habit of deluding yourself. I never followed the instructions, but just reading about the games your grey matter plays is educational. *
We prove to ourselves that a feared problem is not a problem at all. You might stockpile a few freeze dried cans of Mystery Meat In Gravy, a few MRE’s ( 9217 SurePak 12 MRE's- Meals ready to eat.
), a lot of guns and a few pairs of cammies, but you don’t acknowledge the possibility that you will ever have to reduce your standard of living. You fear financial insolvency, erroneously equating money with security as a good little brainwashed central bank peon, and you won’t accept that money will soon be worthless. Every paper currency ever printed soon became worthless as anything other than toilet paper ( chicken and the egg-what came first? Currency used as TP or TP that made paper wipe normal? ). The US dollar is no different. Yet you act like the paper is worth something. It is simply a tool used today but subject to unannounced withdrawal. You fear hunger, rightly. But instead of stockpiling years of food, you convince yourself famine ( The Coming Famine: The Global Food Crisis and What We Can Do to Avoid It
) will never happen here, at least not past a few months while you eat your camping supply. You fear ghetto masses, rioting criminals. Both because they will steal your money ( security! ), burn your home ( 30 years of debt equals SECURITY!!! ) and incidentally have their way with your women ( the women! How much for your women?- John B, Blues Brothers [ The Blues Brothers (Widescreen 25th Anniversary Edition)
] ). But instead of moving out of the big city you stay put ( good paying job is what? SECURITY ), convincing yourself that either nothing bad will happen or you can get out in time. But you are fat and soft ( thanks to both minions for “marshmallow people” and “hail friggin Darwin!” ) and will bug out in a SUV. And with a few junked cars and a couple of burning tires, you encounter a roadblock. ANYONE can build a roadblock. Crackheads with three brain cells between four people can build a roadblock. They know the Yuppie Scum have the best bug out supplies, cause Yuppies don’t deprive themselves of life’s good things. There is one difference between the poor and the rich. They aren’t any more ruthless. They are just used to living closer to our primitive roots and don’t have civilized manners restraining them. The monied persons savageness must be rediscovered which takes time.*
I know I’m right. We have little time and it will completely disintegrate. But I also know this is what I’ve convinced myself of, for whatever little hidden neurotic reasons I have. Yes, it makes it a little hard to believe me, doesn’t it? But one thing I have no ulterior motive in saying. Question your assumptions. Closely. You could save your own life. And your families.
END
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*
My e-mail is jimd303@netzero.com
*
Anyone can submit a guest article. No minimum word length, no writing skill necessary ( just get the idea across ). You retain copyright ( this must be your original writing ) and I’ll just use the once. I’ve yet to turn down an article, just don’t use the N Bomb or libel another that can sue me. Send by e-mail. Payment will be your removal from my enemies list.
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13 comments:
Jim, your flowing locks of hair are looking most wonderful today. The sheen halos your head.
Most survivalist think that a "stockpile" of their favorite freeze dried food and Cabela's gear will see them through any end of the world scenario.
Let's say you are lucky and some gang banger doesn't help himself to your preps. What do you do when you eat the last bite. (to be honest, I think most of the prepared freeze dried stuff taste like crap and if forced to eat it, I would volunteer for the stew pot)Most yuppie survivalist couldn't think outside the box if their lives depended on it.
Living poor on junk land now gives you the practical knowlege that you need to survive. Add a little basic preps like wheat, beans, corn, etc and you have it made.
When SHTF you won't have the luxury of a learning curve.
Idaho Homesteader
Hey Jim,
How cold does it get at your place in winter?
It would be interesting to run some experiments this winter with your Bison Bunker.
Get a thermometer to keep track of the temp. Try storing some potatoes and carrots--like a root cellar. I use cardboard boxes and sawdust to layer carrots in but sand or dirt would also work. Potatoes are just stored in brown paper bags. As long as it doesn't freeze, they'll be good for 6 months.
Besides spiders, what other creepy crawlies do you have to worry about?
Idaho Homesteader
Today's post turned out even worse than usual, it's Nazis and Texans, not Nazi's and Texan's, which you'd have learned by 7th grade if you hadn't been nodding off at your desk, dreaming of having more 26-sided dice than ANYONE in SCHOOL.
Great crack about the SUV-driving marshmallow people, yep the simplest roadblock will stop 'em because well, roadblocks are pretty effective in general, and because the average SUV is NEVER taken off-road. In fact, many of them are based on car chassis and not even meant to take off-road. And of course everyone knows yuppies like to keep the best for themselves. Manning a roadblock will be like having your own delivery service for Toblerone and Maker's Mark.
I admit I like the French. What do we call something when it's really good? French! The Horn, a fine instrument simply called that in the rest of the world, we call the French Horn simply because it's so cool. Pommes Frites, oops fried potatoes, or fries, we call French fries because they're too good to call a mundane name like "fries". French almond, French vanilla, the uses of "French" as a superlative are many in American English.
I didn't know they'd obtained nukes from us then left NATO. Slick.
Brilliant!
Stuff some of us would like to say, but don't.
Cowards everywhere; and did I mention commies?
Mountain rifleman
808-its my belief that the US armed everyone else ( perhaps even the Russians to stimulate the Cold War ) but I don't find many that agree with me. De Gaul did pull the country out of NATO. And please don't hate me for who I am, Grammer Policeman. It's 24 sided dice, isn't it? And I was one of the first to have one.
I think people who read blogs and point out errors should try and develop very high blood pressure from licking the salty sweat off my scrotum and then relieve it by bleeding from their slit wrists.
How dare you attack bison's cherished childhood memories. That was before marriage when he was happy.
Preps? Who needs preps? I'm going to eat acorns and bugs whilst wearing a loin cloth.
Once I get tired of those I'll go check the mantraps for a big fat marshmallow treat...mmmm so good.
When D&D first came out it had 4-sided, six-sided, eight-sided, twelve-sided and twenty sided die. The twenty sided die had the numerals 0 to 9 on it and you had to use paint or crayon on half of them to get the very important 1-20 combo frequently needed in D&D. You can pretty easily make any even number die. A two-sided die of course would be a coin. Or I suppose if you could get it to fall flat, you could use paper money and give yourself another useful function for it after the collapse.
OK my knowledge of D&D dice .... sux. And of course you were the first kid in school to have 'em lol.
True, true, it IS mean to pick on a time when you were happy. When dreaming of dice and the ultimate D&D wizard character with a sword or something was the height of escapism, not post-marriage when dreaming time became, no doubt, filled with fantasies of interesting ways to send various exes for the big Dirt Nap.
Having dealt with the Nukes when I played in the U.S. Navy (10 years of Survival from the Taxpayer! Thanks for the Paycheck, my fellow citizens!), the Feds gave the Brits Polaris/ Poseidon/Trident Missiles for their Subs, the French got Polaris, then went their own way, and we just put the rest of them on Bases that we controlled scattered around the Globe. This way the local Socialists/Fascists got all the benefits of being under the American Nuclear Umbrella w/o having to pay for it, then they could charge us rent for the bases and rob our service people blind when we went off-base to have a good time, all the while bitchin about us in the U.N. as they sold their own piece of crap weapons to such friendly people like Iran and Libya.
But when TSHTF for them, they'll either be screaming for us to save them, or they'll show their True Colors and bring wood to fire up the Stew Pot.
Of course, that also applies to our Federales and the Yuppies. So if you think Uncle Sam can continue to bailout every worthless piece of Yuppie Scum out there forever....
Was it 20 sided? God, I'm not that old. I loved D&D through high school, kept it up a bit through the service ( a lot of computer/RPG geeks in an intelligence unit ), so its been 25 years since I played.
Sorry I didn't notice the grammar thing. Maybe some of James' (comma) Rawles, is wearing off on our own Jim.
I didn't know what the dice thing was till some one mentioned D&D.
I also agree with that it is better to enjoy life in the cafes then try to force little brown people to embrace civilization.
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