be all things

BE ALL THINGS


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In the last couple of days I’ve gotten a slew ( slew described as about three or four, avalanche or cascade would be a half dozen ) of minion e-mail on two subjects, the Viet Cong using bikes as heavy duty cargo hauling down the Ho trail and a guy writing on his experience in Afghanistan about insurgents using old bolt actions to inflict a goodly amount of casualties. Which is today’s article, being all things. People have unrealistic expectations that something should perform all manner of activities. Survivalists are the worst of the bunch. Not my minions of course, I would never accuse of, oh, I don’t know, expecting your plastic carbine to smite all enemies foreign and domestic with the number of bullets fired substituting for talent. Let’s take the bicycle. Looking at the pictures of these idiots grinning for the official North Vietnam edition of Pravda, knowing that if they didn’t project the required amount of Party zeal they might end up in a shallow rice paddy somewhere missing their private parts, happily pushing four times their body weight, you might get the idea that a bicycle will be a wonderful Iron Mule of the future ( as I’ve written ). Up to a certain point that is certainly true. But the duration will surely be shorter than the original war in Indochina ( what were they fighting for there? Just rubber? Didn’t that war, I think starting even before the Japanese occupation [ although I could be wrong on that one ] last something like fifty years? ). Those bikes that the mindlessly happy draftees were using as mules were solidly made of real steel. Comparing those bikes to the flimsy turds made today is like comparing a solid body 1960 Chevy with today’s super plastic Toyota. In a demolition derby, the Toyota is a compact cube within seconds. In the future, as spare parts dry up, bikes will be cannibalized and their numbers quickly decrease as hard use ( being the only mechanized means of transport available, they will be rode hard and put up wet ) takes their toll and before you know it bikes will be another vaguely remembered Oil Age relic. Folks remember bikes being an all around wonder transport but they will soon realize that they devolved into marginally effective specialized tools. They aren’t meant to survive without global cheap transportation.

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Next we arrive at a subject near and dear to my heart, attempting to dismantle the myth of semi autos. Even as the discussion board members read about the experiences of a Afghan war vet, they couldn’t take experience as proof and instead stubbornly clung to the Might Battle Rifle As Magical Talisman. If the extreme wonderfulness of follow up shots is the only thing keeping you from a gruesome death of ninja dog packs and attacking swarms of zombies mindless of their own casualties, I can see how you simply must have the newest and dandiest AR with laser sites and drum magazines. But in a long range weapon? Why are follow up shots so important? The experience of the Insurgents ( Insurgents always capitalized to Denote A Very Bad Thing, just like those rebellious traitors who defied the British ) was that one shot was all you wanted to take. More than that and you would more easily be found by your surviving targets. And yet, so as not to admit that a rifle costing two grand was a stupid idea, most folks think they must have rapid fire ( because, you know, those pesky rabid dogs packs go for miles and miles to attack Insurgent soldiers. You better have a means of defeating them ). I’m not saying that a semi-auto battle rifle is necessarily a bad thing. If you can afford it, it is a higher functioning tool. So is a BMW, but I can’t afford one. So instead of trying to get a rifle that Is All Things defense wise, I settle for one much cheaper that will do a tolerable job at most things.

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Your wife can’t Be All Things. She can’t raise the kids, properly nurture them, work a good paying job and be ready to romance you every evening. A husband surely can’t Be All Things. He can’t work all day, spend quality time with both the kids and the spouse, have time to get in touch with his feminine side and do whatever else all those damn parasites demand of him. That is why a traditional household worked much better. One person did one or two things well, the other did the opposite tasks equally well. Stop acting like your sniper rifle needs to be a skinny wasted big busted nymphomaniac that earns a $100k a year and comes home to gourmet cook every evening. It is unrealistic and you can’t afford one if you could find her. The point here is that you simply must lower your expectations a bit. About everything. After the collapse, you won’t anywhere without walking ( and there will be a time without adequate shoe replacements as the skill must be relearned after the last shoe factories using synthetic materials close down ). You can’t afford to rely on an ammo waster when no more ammo is being made. You must substitute skill for firing a swarm of lead, hoping to hit something. The legendary Confederate sniper Hinson, an irregular, or, according to the Federal soldiers, an Insurgent, placed far more importance on site selection and potential escape routes than massive firepower to wage his war against the invaders. He made it through the whole war just fine. Sure, his rifle was custom made and he bought what he could afford ( being a man of means prior to the Federal War Against States Rights ). But he never considered the rifle more important than skill. And it was his pure grit that allowed an old man to outmaneuver an army of young punks, not the gun he was using. And of course, he never expected the rifle to Be Able To Perform Every Imaginable Task. History doesn’t have to be painful ( mindless regurgitation of dates ), and can be great fun. Try to learn from it.

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