A second glass of absinthe
will make the drinker “see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world”. A warning from Oscar Wilde
. Oh, how we all avoid reality. In the case of absinthe, a potent liqueur made from woodworm, who wants to visit RealityLand when you are drinking to dull the frightening things around you? It ALMOST makes you glad the government has your best interests at heart and makes everything that could heighten your senses illegal. LSD
, absinthe. Bless them for caring. Keep contently grazing at the edge of the cliff, nothing to see here, move along. Above all, do not panic.*
You know who else doesn’t panic? Survivalists. Those thirty thousand folks over at Rawles
? They aren’t worried, they have twenty years to pay off their retreat, stock up on freeze dried foods and buy plenty of plastic carbines. Those eight thousand over at Creekmores? No panic there. The one article I submitted there was met with primal screams
of disgust and anger and very hostile reactions. Not against my saving them $20-$30 by not buying a French press
to make campfire coffee, the ungrateful turds, but because I very casually mentioned Peak Oil in relation to future increased fuel costs ( I also tried to save them on energy costs, the unappreciative scumbags ). Peak Oil!?! Surely you are simply mad! Peak. Oil. What a strange and uncivilized concept. Okay, I get being skeptical five years ago when I first started writing about it ( five years after the experts started seriously talking about it ). But since then…?*
Since then, all the fuss made five years ago has been made to seem mild and lame. No one had any idea how bad it could be back then, still assuming magic bullets
or quality leadership guiding us through the devolution. Today, not only is the oil running out faster, proven in rear view facts and figures, but all magic bullets still remain mere theory, and our leadership has actually gotten worse ( who could have guessed after Bush lowered the bar so low? ). Reading six and seven year old books on Peak Oil, the alarmists really look like Pollyanna’s now. They weren’t actually panicking, but selling us just the one glass of absinthe. My beautiful, wonderful minions? Not panicking that much. I can’t even get the 3% to panic ( the 3% being the total number of survivalists out there that stick around and listen- they won’t do anything, but at least they listen ). I can get them better prepared, teaching frugal ways, but they refuse to panic to the point of safety. Me? I don’t panic enough either, so I certainly can’t blame any of my readers. None of us will willingly drink the second glass. Mohave Rat, bless his old scaly hide, senses my impending descent into madness
and roots for me to resist. But until, or if, I drink, I can’t go mad. I’ve built a barrier against reality as surely as a Rawles Ranger. Sad, but true.*
We all willingly drink the grape Kool-Aid of reality avoidance, even if it kills us. But a magnifier of reality is reserved for the few mad fools living on the fringe. This is how a die-off happens: we all go about our normal lives, even those who see storm clouds and marginally prepare, and once 99% die off from an interruption or complete withdrawal of resources, the “lucky” few, not necessarily those that prepared, emerge to repopulate. You might think it crazy, but my view is that the human race has a built in mega-catastrophe survival trait. All the strange, abnormal, unacceptable mental states the weird people possess are traits that could help them survive. The mad desert rat who shuns all people and only comes to town once a year? A safe sperm bank, from a species survival point of view. The normal survival trait of the species is to kill the other tribe, steal their resources, and live and repopulate. You really think Afghanistan and Iraq are just bad policy decisions? Supporting the military-industrial complex
? Bribing the bankers with more interest payments? Those are secondary results. Essentially, our tribe is stealing food to survive. Every thing else is Grape Kool-Aid.*
Do you really think I’m going mad? Do you really think I’m so frightened, paranoid and realistic? I avoid the cold hard truth just like the rest of you. The only difference is that I occasionally dream about drinking the second glass of absinthe. That is all, just a hazy, far off, indistinguishable glimmer of what might be. The crazy rat bastard that constantly looks over his shoulder, shuffling in the shadows, afraid to talk to anyone, afraid to show ID to get a free meal so he eats out of dumpsters, that is the guy most in touch with reality. Because he knows they are out to get him. And he won’t allow that. Me? I’ve got five neighbors within a half mile, and another five within the mile mark. Unless I swallow that second glass and go postal at the first sign of trouble and preemptively pacify them with a shock and awe campaign ( which I simply can’t see happening as I’m just a live and let live fellow ), those neighbors will be my death warrant. I know that and I stay where I am. I live a mostly frugal life
. Whatever preps I make are only a marginal increase in my survival odds. I know what it would take to go from 10% odds to 90% odds of survival, and refuse to acknowledge that reality. Whatever paranoia or fear I display, it is still tempered with reality avoidance. Take whatever I say in warning of the future, and multiply it by ten. If you want to drink up.END
16 comments:
But... a wise man once said to plan for economic collapse first, then social collapse. What it takes to survive the first may not set one up well to survive the second, and vice versa. I keep my white collar job and save cash and buy preps both because I believe cash will be needed to survive an economic collapse. It may not be worth much after inflation, but I can't pay the tax man's property tax bill with 22lr ammo, and last time I checked the tax man don't take 1 oz silver pieces either. I prep a simple rural retreat on not-enough land that is not far enough away from questionable neighbors because it at least gives me a fighting chance if I get past an economic collapse. As you have said, all plans stink in one way or another. If enough people try enough different plans, just by the odds, a few of them will work out.
What puerile, navel-gazing tripe.
In the long run, we are all dead. Why panic?
"Do you really think I’m going mad? Do you really think I’m so frightened, paranoid and realistic?"
And then:
"I’ve got five neighbors within a half mile, and another five within the mile mark. Unless I...go postal at the first sign of trouble and preemptively pacify them ...those neighbors will be my death warrant."
Paranoid, check. Frightened, check. Realistic, nope.
Do you know those neighbors? As in, on a first name basis and able to walk over and shoot the breeze? Tried to help them with anything? Given them a REASON to want you to be OK?
Or are you just the batshit crazy kook in the run down trailer, too paranoid and shrill to be tolerated in polite company?
And what makes you think the neighbors will bother coming after you, anyway? Folks will be so run down with starvation they won't have the energy to kill you and eat you. The ones to worry about aren't your neighbors, it's the raider-warlord types who start taking from others early that will be the threat--and your neighbors will be the ones who might actually HELP in that situation.
And BTW, what DOES it take to go from 10% to 90% odds? Perhaps covering that other 80% is what makes Rawles so darn appealing to folks who buy into the Bison philosophy, and within a month or two have the bare basics. Start at Bison, end up at Rawles.
Fact is, we are handling powering down better than expected. Still plenty of opportunities to mess it up, but so far so good. Destruction is assured sooner or later---but it could be MUCH later than you think, and what we do has an impact on the timing. Might be long after all reading this are dust that the wheels finally fly off (it might not be, either, thus is wise to prep). But if it takes a while, how are you going to deal with aging in place? Do you have a survival strategy for a future that DOESN'T include an extinction level event?
Buy yourself a hockey mask and change your name to Humongous.
SemperFido
Ok jim seems you got the blaaa,s.Time to splurge with the nickle slots and a female hired for a night.Go ahead its a survival prep remember page 142 under stress relief.No drinking your writing skills go in the toilet when your drunk remember all those pages you wrote last time that not even you could read the next day.Time to do a fluff piece like the 20 things that you need first for a hundred dollars total. we know you hate fluff you can rant and rage that you lowered your self for a week after. gary in bama
Survival as a single individual has very low odds - you have to sleep. Just having a partner would more than double your odds. Having neighbors who see eye to eye makes your odds go up exponentially.
Hang tough - no drinking. especially not absinthe!!!!
If you could use anything now it's a reminder that you're only looking at the worst half of the picture.
That's your job, and you ARE right - there's a shitload of trouble ahead.
No battle goes according to plan anyway.
Number Four
One of your best posts EVER because it's not too long but it's big around.
You, Sir, have the right attitude. We can all live sustainably, once we get rid of 9 people for every 1 that makes it through the species bottleneck. But, since population crashes in any sort of organism don't work that way, we may lose 50 humans for every one that makes it through. I'd consider offing those 5 neighbors just a warm-up.
You make a crucial point, without a lot of rambling.
And as always you make your basic point: Prepare for the worst frugally NOW then worry about filling in the details.
Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.
Hey James, Just got done watching Dutch Sinse youtube channel. He beleives you guys are in for a rather large quake do to recent activity that by the way is not being reported.Heads up,Bob
Yup, cuz in the scheme of things all man made things will most likely get real cheap, including life. Or very, very expensive, depends on how ya look at it all.
This from Sipsey Street should cheer you up - and cut down on the rambling complaints...
http://tinyurl.com/3ozkjf2
Those 10 people within a mile *are* out to get you, they have a group blog about it, surprised you haven't heard of it. Maybe you should use VX nerve gas piped into their trailers while they sleep, like the good guys did to the UN occupiers in Rawles' book.
Anyway, thinking about your motto, "Last one in the stew pot wins," I don't think so. That's just the last loser, you're still in the stew pot.
Seriously, why panic? What good will it do? Just add to your preps and be ready. Good luck.
i kinda like having you around. you climb in that bottle after 13 years? might not make it out. learned how to improvise and adapt; you did too.wasn't for you and mayberry i would've bought the rawles tradition and wouldn't be neer as well off and further down the road. thanks jd. delr sgt bisonia eastern command.
http://cluborlov.blogspot.com/2008/02/five-stages-of-collapse.html
The Five Stages of Collapse
my friend, you set unrealistic expectations for yourself and damn yourself and everybody else when you fail.
I don't think you need a hooker.You need a friend. Not a minion. A friend. Not an anonymous friend. A friend. Both rawles and creedmore got the love of jesus in their heart. Where is the love?
I don't believe in god,but I don't want to see if you can pull the trigger of your enfield with your toe!
The only picture of yourself posted looks like somebody you have to sign in and wait for visiting hours too see.
Smile bitch! Either drink or go to therapy or chain smoke or go to church. Climb out of your hole( both figuratively and literally) and go find something FUN to do.
Life is shit! We all need something or somebody. I write you and let all my ass hang out sometimes. It helps.
Oh, and while I am at it. Grow out that stubble on your head and buy a comb and brush. That is not a mane. I got more hair than that in my ass crack.Wait! I know! A tattoo! A Real Bison. NOT ELSIE THE COW!
email me if you need to be a shit. or write it in a blog.,whatever.
your friend, the rat
As was mentioned in a comment on some other day's posting - not only are you one of the best survival writers out there, your minions and their hilarious comments make your writing THAT much better. Glad you have no intentions of changing your style to please the wimps.
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