Monday, December 21, 2009

Fiction - Part XI - Packing

The next few days started off very relaxing. Natog fell into a routine with spending 75% of his time doing chores. Cooking meals and washing dishes, collecting wood, packing and re-packing supplies for the trip to Maine, loading ammunition, cleaning and checking weapons. One early morning Natog drove to the local range and checked the zero on his M1A and his bolt-action .308 Remington 700. Quickly packing up he made it out of the gun club before any nosy cops showed up.

Al and Mary stopped by. Natog made tea and chatted while they beated around the bush. Seems both sets of parents fled New Bedford and were staying in Al’s tiny apartment. Natog donated a case of canned goods, some extra candles, a roll or two of toilet paper, and five pounds of rice he hadn’t vacuum-sealed yet. He also took the time to teach them how to filter water through T-shirts and boil the water before drinking it or using it to brush your teeth.

Every night at varying times they scheduled before Natog left Dartmouth, the family chatted using the VHF radios. Nothing that would give them away was mentioned over the air. Likewise no mention of supplies, weapons, or Maine were mentioned either. If they needed to, they could have used two identical books to make a simple code that only those with the same edition could decipher, unless you had access to some NSA supercomputers.

Over the next few weeks Natog had to make many hard decisions on what gear to take, and what had to be left behind. Woodworking tools were the toughest of all the decisions. The Berger’s farm had no tablesaw, but Natog’s Unisaw weighed in at 400 pounds and was 3 feet wide and 7 feet long. Natog did pack his dado set, and other 10” blades for the trip, figuring another tablesaw might be squired through barter.

For handsaws he limited himself to two crosscut saws, and two rip saws. The flea market finds would serve him well if he needed to do any construction or furniture work while in Maine. He added his Japanese crosscut saw, a flush cutting saw, a panel saw and two dovetail saws. The dovetail saws were in very rough shape, but he hoped he could salvage them. He managed to get two large saws suitable for felling trees, and those were set aside to strap to the loaded trailer.

He packed all his hand power tools. Including his biscuit joiner, routers, and all the bits and blades he had for them. He bought his biscuits in bulk, along with woodworking glue, so he had plenty there. He did take the router lift for his big router out of his table saw so he could build a router table if needed. He also made sure to take all his drill bits.

Rounding it out he took his eggbeater drill, his brace and bits, and all his sandpaper. He took his water-based poly, and his wax, but all other stains, paints and sealers were left behind. He also squeezed in all his tape measures, rulers and layout tools. He packed a large assortment of files, with a few rasps added for good measure. Finally, he packed all his chisels and planes for the trip.

All of the tools were loaded into totes and loaded onto the trailer. The heaviest ones were put on top of the axle, and the lighter ones were set down next to the trailer to load on top. Canned goods were carefully gone through. A few items were set aside for morale boosting up in Maine, namely the Spaghetti-O’s and Canned Ravioli. As much as possible was set aside for use in the next few days. The rest was packed up and loaded in the back of the jeep, or the trailer in totes.

All of the staples such as rice, beans or, pasta were destined to be packed up for Maine. As he was packing it, he noticed a few vacuum packed bags of rice were no longer sealed, but no teeth marks could be found. Upon further examination, the rice itself punctured the plastic bags, allowing air in. When Natog checked his mylar packed corn, all but one were no longer sealed. Since there was nothing that could be done, the buckets had the lids put back on, and were packed in the trailer for the trip.

One problem Natog had was the glass mason jars and spaghetti sauce he had. The best he could come up with was to load them into cardboard boxes he had saved from moving, and cutting the box down even with the top of the jars. Then he cut the extra cardboard up and slipped it in-between the glass jars. These boxes were loaded into the truck, with clothes he was taking tucked around then to keep them from moving, and to act as added padding.

Natog packed his firearms for transportation. His M1A, shotgun, and pistol were to be kept handy, but the rest was packed up for transport along with all of the ammunition and cleaning supplies. For the M1A, Natog loaded his vest with mags, giving him 8 total. The shotgun had it’s short barrel on already, but the longer one was loaded into the truck as well as it’s choke tubes. Natog kept his skeet shooting bag out, with about 20 shells of slugs and 20 buckshot in the two halves. The rest were packed up. He also loaded the shell sock on the stock of the shotgun with 5 rounds of 3” buckshot. With the 5 rounds loaded in the gun, he had plenty of ammo for it. His prized bolt-action rifle was loaded in it’s case, with 7 rounds in it’s stock sock of hunting rounds. It’s 4 round magazine was loaded but, not in the rifle. In all his packed guns the trigger locks were left off, a clear violation of Massachusetts law, but odds are there were going to be bigger problems with the cops with the arsenal Natog was taking to Maine.

All of the reloading supplies for his rifle and pistol would be making the trip. His reloader for shotgun shells wouldn’t see much use as he had nothing but #8 shot, which would be good for quail and doves, but nothing else. He did pack 200 1oz skeet rounds for the trip, in case there were quail up in Maine. The powder and primers were loaded carefully in the jeep, and at no time did he mix powders or put one kind of primer in another box. It would be a shame to get up there and blow your own head off by being a dumbass he mused.

Clearing out his shed, he loaded his generator, chainsaw, and all his rakes, shovels, etc. onto the growing pile on the trailer. He also collected his spare bar oil, chains, the shorter bar, and so on and so forth for the trip. He filled his jeep’s tank with the stored gas he had, and still had 2 ¾ 5 gallon cans left. These would be lashed in the front of the trailer, but in easy reach. Packed deep in the middle of the pile was his spare propane tank, and the half-full one from his grill.

He had been packing for several days when a police cruiser rolled up while he was carrying a box of food from the house to the garage. Two men got out and started to approach Natog. Turning his right side away, he checked that it was a Brockton cruiser, not a Middleboro one.

The first thought through Natog’s head was a string of profanity followed by a series of ideas to get out of this situation. Before the officers could take a third step, Natog called out “That’s far enough, officers.”

They were both in uniform, and had their hands casually on the butts of their guns. The larger one shouted back, “We jus’ want to talk to you.”

“Well you can do it from there.” Natog kept his hands visible, he knew there was no way he could out-draw a service holster, and wanted them to have no excuse. He had a sinking suspicion that one of these two was the boy’s father from the other night.
The officers continued to approach. “That isn’t very neighborly of you! Bob, get a load of this guy!”

While the two were looking at each other, Natog made a run for it. Turning fast he dropped the box and dove into the garage. A few choice swears followed him as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Quickly scrambling to his feet, he turned the deadbolt as one of the cops laid a shoulder into it. Natog was heavier, so he managed to shut the door and turn the bolt. His shotgun was in the house, so he pulled his pistol and took cover behind his joiner. Finally, he could hear the cops over the rushing blood in his ears.

“Open this door you cocksucker!” The cop was trying to kick open the door, but he was unable to gain any leverage. The threshold was a foot off of the driveway, and there was just a single step. The other cop was trying to lift the garage door, but Natog kept the bolt on the door engaged with the track, preventing it from opening.

“I didn’t see a warrant, and you are out of your jurisdiction, so take a hike!” Natog yelled at the door.

“We just want to talk!” came back as the kicking on the door tapered off.

“Bullshit, why did you have your hands on your guns then? You have no reason to be on my property, so I will ask you to leave, after that you are trespassing!”

“Heh, Charlie, get a load of this faggot! We are in a State of Emergency, we ARE the law! Now you get your ass out here, we need to talk with you.”

“Any talking will be done through a door, I do not recognize your authority.”

“Recognize this. When we get you out of there, we are going to beat the fuck out of you.”

Natog thought to himself “Oh Shit.” Digging in the jeep he pulled out his combat vest and M1A out. Holstering his pistol, he took a magazine from his vest he slapped it into the magazine well and pulled the bolt back before letting it slide home.

The slide of an assault rifles bolt slamming shut makes a rather impressive sound. To Natog the sounds of Bob and Charlie scrambling, grunting and swearing while taking cover was more impressive. He took his position behind the joiner again, with the barrel of the M1A leveled at the door.

“So… What did you want to talk to me about, anyways?” Natog waited another minute “Bob, Charlie? You there?” There was no answer. After a minute he heard the dogs go crazy in the house, and one of the cops curse a few times.

Although now armed to the teeth, his mobility was limited. The only entrances and exits were through the garage door or the regular door. Both were on the same side of the garage. The garage did not have a doorway into the house. Natog took a long time listening, but heard nothing.

Pulling his shop stool around he took a seat and prepared to wait it out. He knew they were out there, as he didn’t hear any car doors or engine. Eventually, they gave themselves away by walking around the back of the building, and stepping on some snow.

“Listen, I’m not coming out of there, and you guys are not going to get me out of here by force. IF you had a legit reason to arrest me, then this place would be crawling with Middleboro cops and Troopers. So, I turned your kid in for trying to rob me and you want to blame me for it? Is that it?”

Finally they broke the silence. “My kid is going to a detention center because of you. So yeah, I’m going to take it out on you. You better grow eyes on the back of your skull, because I’m going to get my due. You hear me?”

“Whatever. Stay away from me, stay away from my house. I’m not intimidated by thugs.”

“Fuck you.” With that he heard a set of feet crunch through the snow and get into a car.

Natog strained his ears, and sure enough, one car door slammed and the car started up. Then another set of feet crunched to the car and got in. Just in case, Natog waited another half-hour before sticking his nose out. Using tactical movement, and wielding the M1A to point to likely ambush points, he made his way to the house. The box of food was gone. One of the panes on his front door was broken, but the bolt was still locked. When he unlocked the door, the dogs were freaking out, and trying to rub their eyes. They must have dumped a whole can of pepper spray into them. Thankfully, his foresight into having a deadbolt that was keyed on both sides paid off. There was some blood on the floor, not much, just enough if the thug cut himself on the glass or one of the boys bit him good.

The bathtub was almost empty of water, so he brought the dogs in and carefully washed their eyes out. It took a while, and it used half of his remaining water, but he couldn’t let them suffer. He had about four gallons left for drinking and washing. The dog’s bathwater could be used to flush the hopper.

Natog didn’t get much sleep that night. Every sound brought him wide awake, reaching for his shotgun. The next morning he unpacked the trailer enough to get at a few tools. Cutting down a 2x4 he made crude braces to help doors resist being kicked in. he made two for each door he used regularly. The front door simply had a couple scraps of 2x6 across it at chest and knee height. These 2x6’s were screwed into the frame of the door, and the next studs over. He used 3” deck screws, as drywall screws were too brittle for this task.

To add security to the door, he attached a 2x4 strip to the door just below the doorknob. He placed another on the floor a few feet in front of the door nailed into the floor joists. Two 2x4’s were then cut to fit in-between the two braces. The 2x4 was trimmed with 45 degree cuts on all 4 sides so it was very snug and form fitting between the brace and the door, likewise with the floor. This with the addition of the kickplate around the deadbolt, and 3” screws used for the hinges made the steel clad doors very resistant to being kicked in.

Using some scrap plywood he blocked off windows as best he could. He put up these over the drapes and curtians so they couldn’t be seen from the outside. He covered the windows in the living room, and the inlaw apartment, the rest would have to wait.

None of these precautions would prevent someone from getting in, it would only slow them down. With his pile of scrap wood exhausted, Natog sat down and had a nice lunch.

The hardest part was going from room to room collecting everything he wanted to take, and putting it in the living room to pack and sort. Some of his prized possessions he couldn’t see taking, but didn’t want to leave them for the looters. All of this was boxed up and brought to the attic above the garage. Natog knew that a fire would take it all, but he had no way of protecting it if he could bury it in the frozen yard.

Sorting clothes was tough, as he fully anticipated losing weight, but gaining size in the shoulders and legs. To compromise, he packed a three day bag of clothes he would live out of for the next few days, and would pack the rest around the other boxes and the nooks and crannies of the jeep. Summer clothes were the last to pack up and were going to go on the trailer in garbage bags.

In the definite pile were a fair amount of board games, decks of cards, and several series of books. Also he had a selection of cookware, camping gear, sleeping bags, and his tent. He also had all his books related to blacksmithing, Gardening, brewing, and survival.

In the maybe pile were more books and games, his laptop, and all his hard drives that had data he needed on them. He also had his big monitor and his desktop system. All his fly tying supplies, and fishing gear, including salt, fly, and bass.

In the growing pile of discards were all his RPG’s other computer systems boxes of more books, and clothes that had no use in the outdoors, mainly dress shirts. The pants could be hacked into shorts, so they were in the maybe pile.

In the end the laptop was going with the HDD’s, all but one brewing book would be left behind. Two Hawaiian shirts were going to make the trip, just to liven up the winter doldrums. 90% of the camping gear was going, he was unable to fit the three camping stoves, so the large two-burner one would be left behind. He did take his kitchen knives and a few additional pots he normally didn’t take camping because they would be useful for an extended stay.

The one item he wished he could take, but couldn’t fit was a ladder. He hoped they had one up at the site in Maine.

After eight days of packing and re-packing his jeep looked like it belonged on the set of Mad Max. The rakes, shovels, and bucksaws wound up strapped to camping gear on the roof of the jeep. The trailer was covered in several green tarps and was stacked with six feet of supplies. The trailer was rated for a ton, and Natog knew he was well over it. There was no way he could run if he had to, stealth would have to be the way to go. From past experience, he knew that he would be unable to go faster than 50mph with the rig as it was now. Nothing else could be left behind. As it was, he wished he could fit more power tools.

All packed, he saw no reason to stay any longer. He would leave very early that morning, and planned to take the same route to Mum’s as he used to get to his house. He contacted them via marine radio before going to bed to let them know the plan. Mum gave stern warnings about being careful on the trip to Dartmouth.

About oh god thirty in the morning, Thor and Loki went nuts. Exhausted from the work, Natog was in a deep sleep, and it took a minute for him to clear the cobwebs from his head. Someone was trying to break in the front door, and the dogs were going ballistic trying to get at them. Jumping into his pants, he was pulling on his boots when things went from bad to worse.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Winter Wonderland

Well winter has showed up with a vengeance. Last week it was about 15 degrees F every morning when I left for work. Then we get 18" of snow over the weekend. I was ready for it, but still 18" of snow is a lot. Thankfully, it's all powder, so shoveling it is easy enough.

I had to swing by a few markets the day before the storm, not to buy anything, but to see the panicked buying of bread, milk, and eggs that precedes any snowstorm. If people panic-buy eggs for 2" of snow, I can assure you the shelves were totally bare for lat night's storm. If sheeple cannot plan ahead for a simple snowstorm, how in sam hill could they be ready for a real catastrophe?

Typically, most people forget how to drive in the snow, and as I made my way to a friends house to watch the Pats game today, I saw several knucleheads sliding all over the road. All the four wheel drive gets you is the ability to not get stuck, and allows you to accelerate without slipping. A 4x4 doesn't prevent you from sliding when trying to stop or turn, and that's what the noobie 4x4 driver doesn't get.

So part of My prepping has been to learn how to drive a 4x4. I don't get to practice often, but when I can I go out to a freshly plowed parking lot and do snow donuts. Learning how your vehicle reacts in a skid will help you if your car does start to slide in the rain or snow. Remember, we are not just preparing just for some grand disaster, but for the smaller more personal disasters that could hit us almost any time.

Being able to change a tire, or for that matter making sure your car has a spare tire. It's becoming less common in this day of "roadside assistance". I doubt AAA will be able to help you if your fleeing from a hurricane. So it's a smart idea to learn how to swap a spare tire, or change your oil, how to fill the anti-freeze, so on and so forth.

Here is a short list of skills everyone should know.

Build a fire
Change a tire
Tie the following knots: Bowline, Tautline hitch, clove hitch, sheetbend, square knot.
zero a rifle
sharpen a knive, axe and saw.
split wood & stack it correctly
perform CPR
Heimlich manuver
pitch a tent
Figure out the directions from the sun or stars.
Fell a tree
Field dress game
Clean a firearm
Use a map and compass

I could go on for hours, but this is what I could think of in the few minutes I had before going to bed. Expect the next installment of the story real soon. On the train ride to boston, I am either reading, or writing.

I just finished Heinlein's Farmer in the Sky. Although written as "youth fiction" I still found the story enjoyable, and it was a very, very, quick read. Only took me 5 hours to read the whole thing. There was a bit of deus et machina to end the book, but hey, your average movie has that to somehow have a shriveled up pitiful excuse for a plot!

Thats enough rambling for now. I need to hit the rack because tomorrow's commute is going to be brutal.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Can't Sleep

I'm having some trouble getting to sleep tonight. I got a big day ahead of me tomorrow, the first day back at work in six weeks. I have a few other things bugging me as well.

I've been dickering with a 3% logo, but so far I'm not happy with the results. I don't like the III logo running around on a patch, and I'm not a big fan of the ones with MOLON LABE on them either. That's a bit to militia-ish for me. I'm not in a militia, I'm in a revolution.

More troubling is I cannot find my iPod anywhere. Damn thing is just gone. That's what I deserve for cleaning the house as thoroughly as I did. I have my old Rio player from 2001, but the software doesn't run well on XP. It like windows 98 much better. ARGH! I lost half the songs on it and I cannot load any new ones. Looks like it's going to be a long train ride tomorrow.

So nothing out in the market is making sense. the dollar is getting stronger and gold & oil are dropping. Looks to me like there is some subterfuge going on in the markets. Someone is manipulating things, and I'm willing it's the Fed. Ron Paul has been gaining support for an audit the worse things have been getting, so I wouldn't put it past the banks to pull this kind of crap.

Well it looks like the stiff drink I drank is kicking in (finally) so I'm going to hit the rack. Good night all, and be sure to keep prepping through the holidays. Speaking of which, whatever holiday y'all celebrate, I hope it's well spent with family and friends!

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Back to business

I have been slacking off a bit lately, and it is high time I got to get my butt into gear. With the looming Zombie apocalypse, there are a few things everyone has to do before the mindless horde comes looking for dinner.

First off, there are some movies out there that are absolutely a must-see. Zombieland is a must-see. Very funny. The Hangover gets a little raunchy at times, but I honestly fell out of my chair while watching it. This is the logical child of Animal House and Airplane! This film was so funny, I would be willing to bet the script was written in the 70's, because that's the last time I watched a move that funny. Animal House, Stripes, Caddyshack, and Airplane! could be topped by this movie on the all-time- funniest movie list. Avatar looks real good, but I am a little concerned that James Cameron might get on a soapbox.

I do not watch a lot of TV but a few shows will be missed when the balloon goes up. The Big Bang Theory is a staple for geeks anywhere, myself included. I got the boxes of comic books in the basement to prove it. The new series V, based on the 1983 & 1984 miniseries (the regular series was so bad I removed the memory forcibly by inserting an icepick up my nose) is really, really, good. Hope they don't fuck it up like Heroes. Or die off like Terminator: The Sarah Conner Chronicles, or The Dresden Files. Flash Forward is getting high marks from friends, but I have not had time to check it out. Any if ANYTHING, and I mean ANYTHING gets in the way of me watching the last season of Lost, I will hunt you down and beat you to death with my shoe.

As for books, anything of any decent quality is being drowned under by sparkley vampires and assorted other lame-ass emo drivel. I have been going back and re-reading older authors like Heinlein, Herbert, Asimov and Tolkien. I am in the middle of the Belgariad, by Eddings right now. I couldn't find the last three books in the local used bookstores so I had to order them online. Still used, but they have to be sipped from the left coast.

So stock up on entertainment. For boardgames I recommend Settlers of Catan, and ALL it's expansions, it is a load of fun, and even women like it. Citadels is a small, compact game that is fun to play as well. Carcassonne: Hunters and Gatherers is fun, but not good for the youngsters. Another favorite is Boomtown, which is published by a Rhode Island Game designer. Expensive, hard to find, and out of print makes Civilization, a hard game to get, but if you're lucky enough to have one, it's a good weekend game. Finally there is World in Flames, which I played at the convention in MI this year. Epic in scale and complexity, it has the price tag to match.

So stock up on fun stuff to do, and take care of seeing those movies before it all goes to hell. If it's bad enough of a collapse I envision movies being re-done as plays by campfires. Until we get back on our feet.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

A Job

So I found me a job. I'll be a contractor for a major University in Boston for three months, and I have a good chance of being picked up as a permanent employee after that.

The advantage of being a contractor is I get paid for overtime, which is nice. The drawback is I got no benefits, and I don't get any holiday or vacation time. I won't even go into the insane benefits package if I become a full time employee. I am getting more $, so I can easily pay for the benefits.

So now I got me a job, so I'm going to have to go back to the grind.

This has been a learning experience, for sure. It turns out between severance, saved vacation, and unemployment, I've been making more money than ever. All of it carefully stashed away for the end of the 3 month contract, in case I'm not picked up as a perm.

What's surprising to me is the lack of stress about the whole thing. I've lost some weight, been getting great sleep of night. Funny how bad the situation was at the last place. I can laugh at it now.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Weather

Anyone else feel the weather is just too freaky right now? All summer we had cool temperatures, I think we had only 2 or 3 days over 90 this year. Now, it's been a solid 55-60 every day for the past month. Not that I am complaining, as I am saving expensive oil. We had the quietest hurricane season in decades. All due to the solar cycle residing at it's lowest point of activity.

Farmer's Almanac is saying a lot of snow and ice for us this year, which means January and February is going to be a bitch. I have serious doubts about a white Christmas as well. Most of the trees and shrubs in my yard think it's springtime and have started to bud. I hope I do not lose too many when the frost sets in.

I've come to the realization that looking for a job is just as much work as having one. I normally use about 200 minutes on the cell phone a month. I've used 450 minutes, plus all my rollover minutes as of yesterday. My billing cycle starts the 18th, so I had to up my plan to 900 minutes a month. If AT&T didn't let me do this, my phone bill would be over $250. Yikes!

I have a phone screening interview tomorrow, and I need to head into PRC (the People's Republic of Cambridge) for a face to face interview. At least I am getting interviews. I haven't heard from the one last week, so I need to send an e-mail today to follow up. I'll never get anything done around the house!

I've cut way back on my news reading, it is refreshing to the mind not to be buried in the doom and gloom of what is really going on. Although the drawback is I'm limited in my foresight when the collapse actually happens. Contributing to this is a sad and terrible thing that happened to me.

You see, the day I got fired, my projector died. So I can't watch tv at all. To fix it it will cost $325 + S&H... I'll send it out once I have an offer. That's just my luck though.

Keep prepping, the crash is coming. Dubai is just another domino in the long line of causality that will terminate rather abruptly once the system collapses under the weight of it's own illicit trades and schemes.

Monday, November 23, 2009

A war in solitude

It's been real hard the last week or so. I've been trying to keep super-busy in order to keep from worrying about my financial situation.

I've been running a bunch of ads on craigslist in order to get some money in under the table, but no one has contacted me for any work. After talking with friends it is easier for people to deal with the crappy and slow computer, or charge the repairs on the credit card than to pay cash. Lots and lots of people are out of a job, and it's getting harder to make ends meet for everyone.

I had two phone interviews last week and I aced them both. I have another phone interview today, and I have a follow up face to face interview from one of the phone interviews from last week tomorrow afternoon. I should be happy because I am getting interviews because there are a lot of people out there who aren't even getting their foot in the door.

So I am fighting a war, a war versus expectations, versus depression, and verses the desire for revenge. Now I'm not going to do anything stupid or rash, so the last battle on the list has been won, but every now and then I get the urge to crack the last job's systems open and basically fuck with them. Set the screensavers to nasty messages, set virus scanning schedules for 2pm in the afternoon, etc. Just mean, but non-critical, things. But I won't do it even how fun it seems like it would be.

I just finished another phone interview, and I aced it again. With the holidays this week I doubt I will get anything going, but who knows? Phone interviews are tough. You need to be confident without being cocky. My problem is I know this shit cold. Like absolute zero cold. Like a witches' tit in a brass bra cold. One problem I am having is these managers are terrified I'll take their jobs so they want to hire someone smart, but not as smart as I am.

I've been thinking a lot about the Second American revolution, and trying to see a way to make it bloodless. I can't. When there is drastic change, there will be bloodshed. I just have to figure out how to keep it limited in scope. I honestly think that there will be a collapse in government, whether from the have-nots vs. the haves, racial tension, or a flat out open revolt due to government mismanagement and absurd taxation. There will be a collapse. I just need to do my part in keeping it as small and targeted as much as possible.

Congress and the leading political families will have to leave or face the wrath of the population. In a collapse of this magnitude, you can expect a backlash against those who put us here. So all of Congress, the Senate, the Supreme Court, and the last few presidents might fall victim to mob justice. In these days expect most of wall street to go with them to the chopping block, hangman's noose, or prison.

I hope we 3%'ers who come to lead these revolutions have the wisdom and common sense to keep it contained and directed towards the return of law here in America. The rule of Special Interest Groups and mob rule have no place in our country. We were founded as a republic, and the sooner we can strip away all the accumulated years of bullshit laws, the sooner we can start down the road to prosperity once again.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Reloading

Bitmap left a bunch of good reloading information on my Sunday post. For anyone interested in reloading you should check it out. I agree with what Bitmap is saying, but my problem is that the 7.62x51mm round is not the same as a .308 Winchester. The specs call for a 12,000 difference in pressure. So I could shoot 7.62x51mm out of my bolt action, but not the other way around.

Now I do use the same components. A Large rifle primer, H4895 powder and a 168grain HPBT. I use 39 grains of powder for the 7.62x51mm and 40.2 grains for the .308 Winchester. This gives me about 2 MOA from the M1A, and 3/4 MOA from the Remington 700. If I use 7.62x51mm in my Remington, I shoot about 3 MOA.

I've found that if I load the rounds long, I can squeak another 1/4 MOA of of my Remington 700, but the rounds will not load into the internal magazine. So my hunting ammo is 2.80 COAL, where my bench rounds are 2.92 COAL. I could easily seat the bullets deeper if the poop hit the fan, so that's not an issue.

Yesterday, I put 7 rounds into 3/4" at 100 yards. Five of them were in 1/4" or so. Now that's zombie hunting! If I could get a bit more consistent, I could get to the 1/2" MOA I am seeking for egg shoots.

I don't mind having different loads for each rifle. Each weapon has it's own purpose, and these don't overlap with each other. The M1A is a battle rifle, and 2 MOA is plenty. The Remington 700 is to put food on the table and to pull headshots on zombies out to 600 yards. The shotgun is for food on the table and close-quarters assault. If I ever have to kick in doors, that's what I'll use. The Sig220 is for personal protection. The .22's are for practice, small game and varmit shooting.

Thankfully, I have all the bases covered. I would love to buy a few more weapons, but considering my financial situation, I can easily make due with what I have.

Bitmap, thanks for the information! I've never used AA powders. I use H4895 for the rifles, Unique and Blue Dot for pistol, and Clays for the shotgun. I weigh my bullets for the rifle and use the odd ones for the M1A. Only those that weigh exactly 168.0 grains are used for the Remington 700. I use the Nosler Balistic Tip and Combined Technologies for hunting, and Nosler Competition HPBT for the bench shooting and the M1A rounds. For primers I prefer use CCI large rifle because they do not slam-fire like the others in the M1A. I use the bench rest version for the Remington 700. The bench rest primers are about 50% more expensive, but I have 2000 of them already :p

I need to shop around and do some research on 168 grain bullets. I'm concerned the thin-skinned 168 grain Nosler competition HPBT won't be effective enough at stopping zombies. I could use 168 grain ballistic tips, but they are about 5 times as expensive. I'd like to run some tests to see the differences, maybe in the spring I can.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Cloudy, with a chance of Apocalypse

Things are real bad in the job market, nothing is moving at all. I've done so many phone interviews that my head is spinning. It seems that the interviewers are only going through the motions. No one is serious about hiring with the holidays and such.

I've been able to reconnect with more people and actually have a chance to talk with then since I'm a jobless bum. The word on the street is simply "This can't go on." Whether it's the health care crap or the theoretical "jobless recovery" everyone agrees that there is no recovery, and we are in for worse times then we are seeing today.

Now what to do about it? I'm prepping like mad. Although I am dipping into my preps to save money, I am still doing what I can to get ready for anything that may come my way. I've been packaging foods into mason jars and using my foodsaver to seal them. I've been making (almost) all my meals myself, saving more money then if I ate out at a restaurant. I'm buying foods on sale in as much bulk as I can and packaging some and eating some.

Monday, I got to tidy up a bunch of things. I got my old jeep to sell, so I need to work on that. I got to get my COBRA health insurance squared away. I also need to get in touch with the mortgage company and see what I can do, I have a Fannie Mae loan, after all. Busy busy busy. I didn't finish cleanign the yard before the rain came through so I got a lot of yardwork to finish as well. That, and finish the in-law apartment and get it ready to rent.

For other preps I have been diligently working on reloading. I already own all the supplies, now I have the time to develop the best load for each application. I'll have to post my findings later on. I'm currently testing the 5 kinds of large rifle primers I own to learn what's better or worse between them, and which provides the most consistency in ignition. Then I need to work up hunting loads for the 150 and 180 grain bullets.

I really, really need to upgrade the scope on my rifle. It's 30+ years old, dark as heck to look through, and there is mold growing inside it. Just a little bit, but it will only get worse. I also need tires on my Cherokee, so I'll buy tires and a a scope if I manage to sell it.

If it wasn't for the holiday fueled consumer economy, I think we would already have seen the collapse of the dollar. So finish what you can for preps, keep and eye on the thieves on Wall Street, and have that bug-out bag ready to go.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Well it looks like gold has shaken free of the artificial restraints. I read that we would see $1500 per troy ounce by January 1st, and I think we will see it. We also saw predictions of $2000 and $3000 and ounce, but I dismissed those out of hand. Gold's price has been artificially manipulated for a while now, of this I have no doubt. I'm not claiming the Illuminati are doing it to further their plans of galactic, inter-dimensional conquest of the left wing conspiracy or whatever. Just with the inflation we have with a fiat currency gold should have broken $1000 a while ago, and is now going to correct itself relative to the weak US dollar.

Speaking of a weak dollar, I'm now having to pay attention to what stuff costs. And my dollar doesn't go that far at all. Not that the prices have changed that much, it's the contents and packaging. For example, Lay's Salt and Vinegar potato chips used to go on sale for $.99 for a 7oz bag. Now they no longer make them in that size, all you can buy is a 12 oz "family size" for $2.99. Huh, three times the price for less than double the amount of product. And Lay's saves production costs using less packaging, etc. Not that it's Lay's gouging us to make a huge profit, their costs have gone up as well.

I've been noticing this all over the place in the grocery store. I fully expect this trend to continue as people, even my frugal butt, don't notice these sorts of things until money becomes such an issue. They are sheeple for a reason, contentedly browsing the pasture, oblivious to the wolf in the woods.

One good thing about being a prepper, is you tend to buy a lot of extra when on sale. I bought all kinds of italian sausage the other day, as it was $1.99 a package instead of the normal $3.99. Took it home, vacuum sealed it in the foodsaver and tossed it into the freezer. Like wise, I bought a ton of pre-cooked breakfast sausage for a $1 a package. Handy because I actually eat breakfast these days. For a quick meal I'll heat them up and eat them with pork 'n' beans.

Back to the economy. Shadowstats.com has the unemployment at 22% nationally. Almost one in four people are out of work. How come there is no rioting in the streets is beyond my comprehension. I've been hitting the pavement real hard looking for a job, but it seems that almost all the companies slowed down their hiring this quarter. All the phone calls I was getting have dried up. I still have a few irons in the fire, but I'm not hanging my hat on anything.

Talking with guys at the club, or neighbors, or random strangers when standing in line, I get a pervasive sense that people are trying to be hopeful, but there is doubt lurking in the shadows. Everyone, and I mean everyone I spoke to has a brother or sister, son or daughter, mom or dad that has been out of work for months. As a country, we can't take much more of this. Someone is going to have to keep paying for the family member out of work. What happens when there are two, or three people in the family out of work? How much more debt can they pile on?

Stores are already running their "black Friday" sales, in order to lure customers into them. I wonder if they are trying to get the cash they need to stay afloat, hoping to lure consumers to spend more on the holidays then they normally would?

There is so many strange things going on, and it's not adding up. Consumer and retailer behavior are out of sync, the government is playing doctor instead of focusing on the economy. It's like they see the economy as fixed, when obviously it isn't. Maybe they realize it cannot be fixed, so they are throwing the mother of all smoke and mirrors show to distract everyone from something they would really freak out about?

Friday, November 6, 2009

Archery

I managed to take the bow down to the club today for a little while and get some practice in. It's currently archery season here in mass for deer, and I might go out and get one. I wanted to practice for a while anyway, as there is a serenity in shooting a bow that I don't feel with firearms. Maybe it is because of the muscles used, the weight of violence contained in my hands. Then again, maybe I just need more practice with my .22!

Now for those of you without an education on Zen, here is a brief primer. There is no past. There is no future. There is only Now. There is no target, there is no archer, they are one and the same. I think Zen translates to English as "no mind." Anyway that's the best way to not think about what you are doing.

I was only shooting 10 yards, as I haven't shot in a long time I didn't want to lose any arrows. It was more about emptying the noggin, and re-training my muscles. It was bliss.

Now I don't use a fancy compound bow, I have a German glass-reinforced, lemonwood bow that was given to me years ago. The finish is a little worse for wear, the gel coat is cracking. It still pulls over 60# when I draw it. I do own a 1968 Bear compound bow, but it's just as powerful as my recurve. If I'm going hunting, that recurve is going with me. I have added silencers on the string and they are surprisingly effective. I would have to buy new arrows, though. I do have some cedar shafts, and broadheads that can fit them, but the new lighter carbon fiber arrows are better suited for harvesting game. I like the expanding broadheads, as the slower speed of the recurve is more prone to crosswind interference. And I can get them in a subdued pattern, as my cedar arrows are white and red.

If you have a bow, you should shoot once a week to keep your muscles tuned up, and your arrows in the kill zone.

On an economic note we broke the 10% "magic number" for unemployment. Jobless recovery, indeed.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Fiction - Part X - Thieves and Miscreants

Peacefully asleep, Natog had been back a couple days when the dogs went ballistic in the middle of the night. Pulling on his boots, he grabbed his shotgun, and a flashlight, silently went up the stairs.

Sure enough, someone was trying to cut the chain securing his generator to the foundation of the house. Listening quietly, he could hear two voices, both male, as they whispered to each other.

"Hurry man! He's going to get up!"

"Fuck him, He's an asshole."

Now there was no way Natog was going to let himself get ripped off. But there was no way he could sneak around the house with the snow crunching underfoot. That left one option. Quickly and quietly he went downstairs and pulled on some pants. Putting his boots back on, he tied a quick knot, no need to lace the hiking boots all the way up. Climbing back up to the stairs, he quickly pulled the door open and the dogs just about went through the storm door. Hitting the pressure pad on the shotgun, the tactical light illuminated the two men, blinding them as the dogs attacked them.

"UP AGAINST THE FUCKING WALL!" Yelling at the top of his lungs Natog leveled the shotgun at the two men. The frightened faces as Thor and Loki growled and barked while nipping at the two figures sprawled out in the snow. Natog could see that one was George's boy, but the other he had no clue who he was.

George’s kid was cowering, as the dogs nipped at his hands and face. "Get your dogs off of me - I'll sue!" His reply was a few octaves higher than any normal male voice should be able to reach comfortably.

"Up against the fucking WALL, NOW!" Natog motioned with the shotgun.

The other boy rolled up and tried to make a run for it. Natog planted a swift short kick into the boy's quadricep, sprawling him on the ground again. Loki grabbed the boy's hat and started to attack it.

Cycling the shotgun, Natog yelled again for them to get up against the wall. Although this sent a shell spinning into the snow, it had the desired effect. George’s boy turned and faced the wall. The other kid was rolling around on the ground in pain, tears streaming down his face.

"On your knees, hands on your head, lace your fingers. Palms up. OK, do NOT FUCKING MOVE."

George's kid's voice cracked, "Don't shoot me!"

"Then don't move." moving so he could watch both teenagers, he motioned to the kid on the ground. "Get up, against the wall."

"It hurts!"

Natog planted a swift kick into the kid's backside, "Up, against the wall, NOW."

Half dragging, half crawling, the boy managed to get up to the wall.

George’s kid was sobbing now. "Please mister, don't kill me."

Natog spoke with what he hoped was a fatherly tone to his voice, "You'll be ok, just do what I say, OK?"

"Yeah"

The other boy chimed in "My father's going to kill you, man."

"He can try. Ok you on the left, lift your jacket, slowly." The boy lifted his jacket, and Natog took a look for a weapon. "Ok take off your belt and drop it in the snow."

Natog heard a door slam from the house behind him, and someone running through the snow. Keeping an eye on the two boys, he put the next boy through the same procedure.

Marty came into Natog's vision in pajamma's and a parka. He held a baseball bat and a flashlight. "Jesus, Natog!"

"Marty, it's alright. I caught these two trying to steal my generator."

"Those little shits, I wonder if they stole the gas from my shed last night!"

The two boys has their faces turned to each other, and were whispering to each other. Loki and Thor had wandered off, to chew on the boy's hat.

Marty looked over at Natog, "What are you going to do with them?"

"I'm not fer-sure yet. Don't even think of moving you little bastards."

Natog took the belts from the snow, and used them to lash the boy's hands behind their backs and quickly searched them. He pulled a pocket knife from George’s boy's pocket. The other boy tried to get up when Natog moved to him, but a heavy shove got the boy back on his knees. Squirming furiously was no help, as Natog pulled a small pocket pistol from the boy's jacket pocket.

"Well, well, well." Natog tsk'd tsk'd as he ejected the magazine and emptied the chamber. "Looks like a little .380 automatic."

"Christ, he had a GUN?"

"Yeah, at least he didn't try anything with it, or I would have shot him dead. That settles it though. This shit is going to the cops. Armed robbery, what are you, 16?"

The kid turned with a defiant look in his eye, "Seventeen. My dad is going to fucking kill you, man." Seems the boy got his courage back.

"I doubt that. Looks like you're going to be tried as an adult. Better start stretching that ass out now, they’re going to love you in prison."

Marty looked concerned, "Shit he's just a kid."

"He made his decision, now he will have to live by it."

"Fuck you man, my dad will get me out of it. He's a cop."

That sent a shiver down Natog's spine. Last thing he needed is a local cop with a thug kid fucking with him. "Alright, get up you two. We will drop this shit off with his dad. And the other's going to the Troopers.

"That's 2 miles away!"

"Yep, so you better get a move on."

"Hey, I'll get my car and we can drive him there. I need to change into something warmer, though." Marty was starting to shiver, you could tell because the beam on his flashlight was wiggling.

"That would be great, Marty, I'm sure our felon appreciates it."

Marty climbed back over the fence to his yard and went into the house. A few minutes later, his car pulled up onto Natog's lawn.

"Ok you fuckers, in you go."

Natog stuffed George's kid behind Marty, and the other boy into the passenger seat. Sitting behind him, he verified the safety was still on. Marty backed off the lawn and pulled into Georges driveway. Marty honked the horn until George's face looked out the window.

Natog got out of the car and slung the shotgun off of his shoulder. Pulling George's kid across the seat, Natog made sure he had a firm grip on the boy.

Geroge opened the door and cried, "What have you done to my son!"

"Your boy tried to steal my generator."

"I did ask you to share, now look what you have done!"

Natog let George grab his son from him, "I did? fuck you, that little shit is an accessory to armed robbery. I'm releasing him into your custody."

"W-w-what!" was all George could stammer out as he untied his son.

"Yeah that's right. The other boy was armed with a handgun."

"Junior, you get inside the house right now. I'll deal with you in a minute." George pushed George Jr. in the house. "Look, I didn't ask him to..."

"Relax. I know. But I have to tell the cops. Just make sure you keep an eye on him, and keep him away from my property."

"Will do."

"Know who that kid is?"

George looked into the car, "I think he lives a couple streets over. He got in trouble for spraying graffiti on the church up on Webster Street. His dad is a cop in Brockton.

"Brockton, huh."

"Yeah, rumor has it he's been on duty since the power went out."

"Ok George, you go have a chat with your boy, I'm taking this one to the cops."

George looked around a little lost, then climbed up the stairs to his kitchen door. With that, Natog got in the car, and Marty pulled out the driveway. About halfway to the Middleboro barracks the boy started crying. Marty tried to console the boy, but Natog's heart was as cold as the January night they drove through.

A few minutes later, they were pulling up to the front entrance of the barracks. A Trooper was there in his car, and he got out as Marty's car pulled up. Leaving the shotgun in the back, he got out with his hands visible.

The trooper shown the light into the car, "Tell your friend to cut the engine."

Marty turned off the car and got out. The trooper kept the flashlight on the boy in the front seat. "What have we here?"

"Trooper, that little shit tried to steal my generator."

"So you're the cops now?"

"Well yeah, it's not like the phones work."

"How did you catch him?"

"I got the drop on him, and convinced him to give up."

At this point the prisoner decided to start yelling how he was kidnapped, so on and so forth. The racket brought out another trooper from the barracks, which moved to cover the other Trooper.

"Hey, Troopers, I'm armed, and I got the pistol this kid had on him on me, and my shotgun is in the back seat. Just don't shoot me, ok?"

The two troopers drew their weapons, which solicited a quiet "Oh, Shit." from Marty. The two troopers looked at each other and the newer trooper moved in, "Just walk towards me slowly. Ok turn around, where is the pistol?"

"Right front jacket pocket. It's unloaded."

The trooper grabbed Natog's laced fingers and rummaged in his pocket. A quick frisk, and Natog was released. "Ok stand over by the door." Marty was quickly searched, and the trooper grabbed the shotgun. The other trooper grabbed the boy by his arm and pulled him from the car.

The troopers had taken the .380 as evidence, and locked the boy up in one of the cells. Two hours later, after Marty and Natog were interviewed, statements taken, so on and so forth they were allowed to head home. Marty dropped Natog off before going back home. Natog unlocked the generator and brought it in the house before collapsing in his cold bed.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Growth! Ha!

So last quarter we had "growth" in the economy. All those who are drinking the magic "green shoots" kool-aid are screaming from the rooftops that we have seen the end of the recession.

The trouble is we are in a depression, not a recession. More importantly, the reason we saw a positive growth in the economy is rather simple. It's the government-funded Cash for Clunkers and the $8000 Tax rebate for first home purchases.

So when you boil it down, there really was no growth whatsoever. More smoke and mirrors, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. This is probably the last trick they have up their sleeves, and it's perfect timing. Our economy is ~70% consumer spending, and with the holiday travel, gift buying, so on and so forth, I expect to see "growth" for this quarter as well.

The sheep will buy it lock, stock, and barrel, but it's just the eye of the storm. The financial hurricane is still raging around us, but the sheep will chill out in the pasture and think everything is just ducky.

Do not be fooled. Watch the year to year and "seasonally adjusted" numbers for a real look at our economy. Notice with all the hoopla around the growth, no one is mentioning these numbers in the MSM? It's propaganda. It would be right at home in the pages of 1970's Pravda Newspaper.

I have job interviews scheduled, so I'm not going to get to Maine this week it looks like. I'll be putting the time here to good use. I've got a lot of items I'm going to sell through craigslist, even an older Jeep I was going to work on. Bill needs ammo for the FrankenFAL, so I'll load some up for him. I hate working on new military brass, removing the pocket primer crimp is a pain in the wrists. Although, I'm not goign to drop $300 for the Sinclair tool that's motorized!

Monday, November 2, 2009

Goons!

Well D-Day H-Hour came and the goon squad showed up at my cube to "escort" me to HR for processing. Yep, I'm unemployed. At least I can pick between being fired and resigning. I got to decide by the end of next week.

So needless to say, I'm a bit out of sorts. I never guessed they would actually go through with it. I'm still getting phone interviews, and I'm off to see another (the 4th) recruiter in as many weeks. They have a job lined up, but it's a pretty big pay cut. Oh well, better that than losing the house.

Tomorrow, I put in for Unemployment Insurance. Dealing with that bureaucracy is always a hoot. At least with all the government extensions I might be able to collect until the system collapses. Hey, I might be the straw that breaks the camel's back, right?

To make matters worse, My projector is on the fritz. Can't even watch the boob tube. To keep busy, I've been cleaning the house, loading tons of ammunition, and playing some video games here and there. I'm planning on visiting the "Berger's Farm" in Maine tomorrow and spending a couple days helping my brother Bill finish building a barn for them.

I'm going to put together a couple of 6 gallon buckets of supplies to stash up there. Prepositioning some supplies would make sense, and I can increase the stash as I trust them more, or I hit the lottery and buy my own survival retreat. I'll be making my own desiccant
packs to keep the canned foods from rusting, and keeping the ammo good and dry. I'll also include come medical supplies like aspirin, ibuprofen, band-aids, super-glue, etc. I've vacuum bagged some pasta, rice and beans to go with the canned food, so I should be able to stretch it to a weeks worth of food for three of us. I'll also include 50 rounds of .45 ACP, at least 20 hunting .308 Winchester rounds, a box of .22LR, and 60 .308 FMJ for the M1A. Never know what you'll need, right.

Damn, hope I can fit it all in the buckets.

I'm putting the finishing touches on the next chapter of the story too.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Seasteading

Today I went to a lecture down at the University of Rhode Island to see Patri Friedman speak about seasteading. It was only an hour long, but it was a very thought-provoking talk abut the nature of government, and how to turn government into a business model.

I was the only non-student to make the trek, and I did stick out like a sore thumb. I find the whole idea of founding your own community fascinating, as that is what I would love to do. Post-TEOTWAWKI I plan on doing just that.

I probably shouldn't have taken a day off so close to my D-Day, but WTF, I needed to get away. And Patri rarely comes out to the east coast.

HR hasn't said squat about my supposed termination tomorrow, I still think my asshole boss was bluffing. well i will sure find out tomorrow, right? I did get a chance this afternoon to go to the range and run some of my pistol loads through the chronograph to compare the different loads I am choosing between. One thing I can say from my preliminary look at the data is the reloading book is way, way off. By about 200fps. I figured it was because of different pistol barrel lengths, but it turns out that they used a Sig P220 for thier test gun, so WTF, over?

Anyway, check out the idea of Seasteading sometime. It's really interesting for us Libertarian-types.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

As the Days Crawl By

It is interesting on how we humans perceive the 4th dimension. Time can zip by, or slow to a crawl. For me, it is crawling along.

One of the side effects of this slow economy is that employers can take their sweet-ass time when hiring a new employee. This sucks for me because I have a financial gun pointed at my head.

I went to HR to see if they could do anything for me. Well suffice to say this HR department is like every other HR department, they just try to fuck you over, and avoid a lawsuit. I do have excellent grounds for a lawsuit, but whatever cash I could get wouldn't be worth the stain on my reputation.

Time, time, time. The collapse of the American dollar is just a matter of time. Just look at this graph:
It is in freefall. a few micro-rallies aside we are going straight for the magic number of 72. Rawles feels this is the magic number for collapse, and if he is right then we will dance around it for a week or two before finally plummeting through it. It is a weird psychological barrier, like gold breaking $1000, or the DOW breaking 10,000. Break 72 it it will. The question is what do our bondholders do about it...

I'm old enough to remember Carter's presidency. What I do remember was that America was the world's bitch, to put it in the modern vernacular. Iran taking th hostages, OPEC acting tough, the CCCP throwing a coup in Afghanistan. I'm going to come out and say it: Obama is a pussy. Now I feel he will have an excellent post-presidential career as a peacemaker, like Carter. I have always respected Carter's work in that regard, but as a president he was a clusterfuck. Obama is just like him. Willing to push the Progressive "America sucks" mantra to the rest of the world. I bet that if we weren't neck deep in a multi-war shitstorm that he would be cutting military spending, even if to fund his own S.A.

This got me to thinking on how Carter and Obama are different. Carter wasn't involved in actual warfare when the rest of the world figured out he could be pushed around. The US military is under strain from fighting two wars. Our whole post WWII military has been designed and geared to support two major wars at once. What happens if China invades Taiwan? Or North Korea goes over the top into S. Korea? Our military needs to finish up Iraq and Afghanistan pronto, before something really, really, bad happens.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Question Everything

By default, we accept the viewpoints and opinions of others. It’s a natural byproduct of our tribal heritage to agree with those in our tribe and to distrust those from another tribe. Of course I don’t mean tribes in the literal sense, as tribes in modern society can be numbered in the millions. And you can belong to many tribes. I am a member of the American Tribe, the Libertarian Tribe, the Geek Tribe, the Gamer Tribe, so on and so forth.

What we need to do is question everything. The white house has admitted they don’t release anything without an iron hand controlling the media. The most sought-after position is that of a “spin-doctor” or “Press relations” or “Media consultant” In other words liars. Worse than liars, as they limit access to all the facts to prevent you from making an honest opinion on whatever happened.

This is why I question everything. Nothing is accepted as fact without evidence to back it up. Let’s take a look at the Gold investment people. You have seen them quoted on survivalist websites and I know you see their banner adds everywhere. They have an agenda – to sell you gold – and they will spin any economic DNG (Doom and Gloom) news to get you to do so. They are a business, there is nothing wrong with that. But if you’re using those articles to plan for an economic crisis, realize the whole story is not presented. Avoid the trap of using only limited information.

With All this fact checking, you run the risk of being late on making some calls. The most pressing for us is when/if to bug out. I’m finding that with the research and checking of facts I’m better prepared to make calls of what’s going to happen. But understanding the information behind what crap’s coming out of the talking heads mouth, you can put together a better picture of what’s the real story going on.

A funny by-product of all this is I’m in between the two main “survival circles”. There are those who feel Waco was completely orchestrated by the illumanati, or those who think David Koresh deserved everything he got. Likewise, there are those who feel 9-11 was an inside job, so on and so forth. I’m smack dab in the middle of both sides. My brother, “Bill”, who thinks I’m “asleep” because I don’t think the jet contrails are medicine being dispensed to keep us depressed. Or my good buddy “Joe” who thinks I’m an idiot because mass passed that law to kick in doors and forcibly quarantine you and I feel that the cops are going to take advantage of it, since the WHO already declared a pandemic.

So question everything. Question why that ad wants you to buy gold. Question why they want to raise taxes. Question why Executive orders are not subject to approval by congress or the Supreme Court. Question why milk and bread prices are going up, but inflation is negative. Question why towns are cracking down on speeders and performing “taxation by enforcement”. Question ALL of it. If enough of us ask these questions maybe then we can get the truth for a real journalist, rather than some shithead who can read of a teleprompter and whiten his teeth.

Monday, October 19, 2009

2+2=5 (for very large instances of 2)

So we are in the midst of a Great Revival. The worst has past. Unemployment is a lagging factor, after all, and the consumer economy is beginning to boom once more.

But wait. Why are there so many homes for sale in my town? In the last month, 25 homes have gone up for sale, and that is just the ones I can see going to the market or to work every day. there is no way in a healthy environment that there are so many homes for sale. Most are not foreclosures, possibly families want to move up in size or retireees want to move down, but that's not all of them.

Please lock your trays and return your seats into a full, upright position. We are all in for a bumpy ride.

I have focused almost exclusively on an economic collapse at this point. My personal issues aside, the dollar's value is plummeting. China will only hold onto American toxic treasuries for so long. When China dumps them we get flushed down the shitter. Our economy collapses. I am prparing for this to happen as best I can. I'm looking for side work to make some extra coin. If I don't need the cash for the mortgage, then i can invest it into land, or silver. I am 99% certian the economy will collapse, I see it an inevitable. The trick is, what happens? Do we face a slow decline into oblivion, or do we face the Zombie Apocalypse? I hope it's not the latter.

On a personal note, I've done 13 phone interviews. I have second interviews with 3, and I bet another 1-2 more will ask me for second interviews. Two of the jobs involve a lot of travel bt pay well, the other is a dream work environment at a gaming company. Wish me luck.

Now get your self some silver to go with all that food and ammo!

Monday, October 12, 2009

Decline is a Choice

This article is a must read. My feeble writings are unable to summarize what this well-written and thought-provoking article articulates.

The liberals have to be stopped. I am not responsible for the sins of my father. This is America, and we laid the foundation for the removal of the feudal class system. I am not responsible for the sins of my ancestors who were slave owners. I will not apologize for something I was unable to prevent. I don't practice slavery, I didn't elect the officials who led us to war in Vietnam. I didn't fly a plane into the WTC.

I will not, cannot, and would not grovel or debase myself or my fellow Americans to the altar of "Political Correctness". I will not bend my knee to the Chinese Communists, nor to the Saudi King. They can go kiss my ass!

But yet I'm the "bad guy" because I think America has a lot to offer. I feel the idea of America is the best thing to hit this planet. What's written in the Constitution is not what we live under. Sure it is a Utopic vision that we never will reach, but we have a blueprint that works as long as everyone does their part.

I'm not making a heartfelt plea for us to return to the 1950's - fuck no. What I do want is to have the National Pride of the 1950's. People didn't litter because THEIR country wasn't a trash heap. Walk through almost any area of the country and let me know how many plastic grocery sacks are in the trees. It's the perfect yardstick to determine who has pride in themselves and their country.

I also would like to see the economic policies of the 1950's - to some extent. Industry and innovation to provide real wealth - not the funny money of wall street. I could rant for hours.

Please take the time to read it for yourself, it outlines exactly some of the things I just never understood about the Liberal mindset.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Freedom and the Welfare State

I'm not crazy. Well, not completely crazy. heh. The majority of Americans don't see the welfare state as slavery. This recent article on CNN.com proves otherwise.

In this aspect, freedom is financial freedom, and slavery is being subjugated to the whims of the government. There are how many hundreds of thousands of people wondering if they will have money for food or groceries because the Senate is wringing it's hands about who should get the money. In other words, these people are slaves to the government teat.

Funny coming from me, as I'm about to go on unemployment myself. I'm looking hard and fast, but so far everything I can get quick is out in AZ, NM, NYC, or TX. All temp work too. I really don't want to live in a hotel for 3+ months, and if the balloon goes up have to cross 3000 miles just to get back home.

I'm not desperate yet, I got a few irons in the fire. The problem is at my level it takes a while for the hiring process. It's one thing if you're a desktop tech, those are a dime a dozen. Engineers are harder to get and more expensive, so companies need to interview you 4-5 times before you get the job. That's the one thing I'm short of: time.

This has got me to thinking, which is always dangerous, about the nature of freedom. What is Freedom? Is owning your own business freedom? Or is it just another form of confinement as you are slaved to your customers.

King Missile has a song called "I wish" and it's one of my favorites. In the lyrics he says "Freedom is within where I shall never find it." I suspect this is the real truth of the matter. We are all dependent on each other and our society in ways we cannot fully comprehend because we accept being dependent.

I look at the world in shades of gray, there is no absolute good, and there is no absolute evil. This has to be the case with freedom as well. You can never be 100% free, and likewise, never completely imprisoned. All degrees of freedom or slavery we find ourselves in.The $64,000 question is what are we going to do about it?

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Rough Times

"I'll miss the sea, but a person needs new experiences. They jar something deep inside, allowing him to grow. Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken." -Duke Leto Atreites
Things have come to a head at the job. I've been told I have a month to find a job elsewhere. Such is the reward for a decade of working 60+ hour weeks. I am already interviewing, and have a few irons in the fire. I do need to move quickly, though. If the new employer finds out I'm out of a job, then they can lowball the offer, figuring I'll be desperate enough to take it.

It is my responsibility. I was too dense to see the truth of the working relationship between my inept manager and the higher levels of management. I have misread the relationship between my boss and the enterprise architect. Arguing with the architect is pointless, as my boss is drinking the magical kool-aid this guys' spouting. Regardless if I am 100% right, I should have been perceptive enough not to make these kinds of mistakes.

Now the company is going to have to break a whole lot of internal policies to fire me. I'm not sure why they don't just lay me off, other than they don't want to spend any money. I have an excellent case to collect unemployment if they do fire me because of these neglected HR procedures. I can easily demonstrate that this was a hostile workplace. If I quit I get nothing, and my Boss really, really wants me to quit. So since he might not be able to get rid of me, then I almost certainly have more than 4 weeks. It takes 1 year to fire someone where I work from normally.

My plan is to get out of there without lawsuits and everything else. The reason is there are only a few companies that can hire and pay IT guys of my level, so if a stink is raised, then they will catch wind and I might fuck myself out of a job. So I'm keeping quiet for now, but documenting EVERYTHING.

I had two interviews yesterday, one with a headhunter, and another with a company a friend works at. Both were "getting to know you" interviews, but at least I'm out there. I feel I made a good impression. I had to drop $1,000 on suits for interviews, a required expense for my salary bracket. I almost bought a stainless steel Savage in .308 for a hunting rifle on Sunday. Good thing I held off.

So I'm sorry I haven't been posting a much, but once I get settled somewhere else I will post more often. I almost have the next segment of the story done, and I want to talk a bit about the conspiracy craziness out there., and the American Police Force and who knows what else.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Big Lie

I was looking through the multitude of information out there that is available on our economy and realized just how many lies we are fed every day. We get more spin than any real meaningful data for us to plan our retirement, a vacation, or home purchase. From Unemployment to GDP, all the numbers are skewed to make the current administration look good.

We are spoon-fed bullshit by a media that refuses to dig for the truth. What good is any newspaper, TV news show, or online news outlet if they don't ask the hard questions, if they don't seek the Truth.

If they are not telling the truth, then what are they? Entertainment. This is evidenced by how much time is spent on the "human interest story" in every broadcast. What is Jennifer Aniston saying now? Did you see Demi Moore in her new fabulous bikini? How about you tell me the real unemployment numbers? Including those who are discouraged, or are forced to work part-time, or teenagers who would like a job but cannot find one?

How about we see a story where the hard questions are asked to those in charge? Ask obama flat out what his strategy in Afghanistan and Iraq is? And don't let him off of the hook until we get a real answer. Not a sound bite, a honest and unambiguous answer to a direct question.

We will not see such things in our lifetimes. Our world has been forever changed with the 30 second attention span we have adopted. I'm just as guilty as everyone else. All I am asking is to get honest facts in that 30 second blurb.

Everyone has their own agenda. Remember that. Even the bloggers who try to put together the real story are slanting the news one way or another. We all see things going down the tubes, but in reality, the majority of Americans are too stupid to realize the poop is hitting the fan, and that might be enough to avoid the big crash.

You never know. All we can do is set the bullshit filter to "high" and hope we can make sense of what's left.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Quick Post

Been real busy of late. A new MMO called Aion came out, been playing that pretty heavy. Working on the resume too, can't wait to be free of this crappy job.

After reading a post the other day on Survivalblog.com, I went to the store and got some Tang. I also got one of the other items I was missing from my preps and that was multi-vitamins. I had forgotten how insidious scurvy can be. The one thing you need to remember about vitamin C is that it become inert very quickly when exposed to oxygen. So get some Tang, and pack it up into week-long packages and vacuum seal them.

I didn't see another item on my list on sale, so I'll wait. Fiber supplements will be rather nice to have, if all your eating is meat for 3 months. The more I think of how poorly my garden did, the more I worry about feeding myself and my family greens when the poop hits the fan. I think that if your cooped up hiding from roving bands of mutant biker zombies, one of the only pleasures your going to have is to take a nice dump once in a while, right? I doubt my stash of liquor will last too long, so what little entertainment I get might be from my digestive tract.

I'm getting really worried. Things are not looking well at all, and I fear the "zombie apocalypse" might not be too far off. I'm still living my life, I haven't given up on the world, but I am prepping more and more as my budget allows. With the shortage of primers I am super glad I bought what I did.

I now buy almost everything in bulk. If I need toothpaste, I buy two, and put one aside. Reminds me I'm out of aluminum foil, but I'll buy a lot of that, the stuff is too damn handy. Buying extra now of the stuff I use now will make it easier to prep. The downfall is you wind up with a lot of food that needs to be inventoried. That's what the next big task for me will be. I need to see where I am light on preps and focus on getting that squared away. I bet it's protein, but I'm not 100% sure until I verify it myself.

Mum and "Bill" aren't prepping much at all. Although they are putting up some extra ammo, the food situation isn't going to well. To help with this I'm packaging up a care package for them to store. Everything inside will be vacuum sealed and will have a shelf life of at least a decade. This way if something happens to me, they will have enough food to last the a few weeks. When it's done, I'll be sure to post pics.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Fiction - Part IX - Tea at Mum's

Something was hitting him in the head. Natog tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t, and there was this awful screeching sound. He started to struggle but something was keeping him pinned to the ground. With a final THUNK, and the associated flash of light against his closed eyelids the hammering mercifully stopped.

It seemed his hearing was clearing up because the screeching was finally quieting down. Then something wet and cold was being rubbed over his face and eyes, struggling, he still couldn't move his arms, but he managed to twist his head some so he could stop the wet thing from suffocating him.

It stopped and his addled mind could start to make out a litany of "Oh my god I hope he's OK." over and over. Then a man's voice "Mum, he's going to be ok, I promise."

Finding his voice Natog managed to croak "Oi, it's just a flesh wound! But why can't I see?"

Bill's voice came from closer this time. "It's because you won't let me wash off the blood, dick-for-brains."

"Fucker, you were waterboarding me! And it's cold as a witches' tit."

Mum was still frantic, but she seemed to be calming down. "I'll get some more hot water."

Natog heard Mum go into the house. "Ok, Bill, how bad is it?"

"Er. It's a good gash. Mom was freaking out because we could see your skull."

"No shit."

"Yeah, fucking blood is everywhere, I wonder if you need a transfusion."

"Nah, I'll be alright as long as I can see. What the hell were you doing to me? hitting me in the head with a hammer?"

Bill replied, "It's the surgical stapler you gave to us for the first aid kit."

"No shit. Hurts like a bastard."

"I'm glad you were out cold, we washed the cut out with hydrogen peroxide, that would have stung."

"Just a little."

"Yeah a little bit. You gave Mum an awful scare."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"You've been out here at least 20 minutes. What the fuck happened to you? Your Jeep looks like it was used for target practice!"

"Fucking redneck national guard. They have New Bedford locked down. I ran into a roadblock and they started shooting."

"Where? I'll go kill those fuckers right now."

"Let it go. The last thing I saw was one of 'em wrestling with the one that shot at me."

Natog heard the front door bang open and Mum come down the walkway. She was still alternating between the "Oh my god, I hope he's ok", and the "I'll kill the summbitch" litany’s now.

This time the water was hot, but not painfully so. Bill finally got up off of Natog's chest so he could help wipe his eyes clean. Finally able to see, Natog got up. It was a big mistake as the world started to spin and he barfed up his breakfast all over the front lawn.

"Easy there tiger, you have a concussion."

"Yeah, not the first time. Remember that day we went sledding in the woods?"

"Fuck yeah, we should have been wearing helmets."

"Help me into the house, My ass is frozen."

Natog looked around as Bill and Mum helped him into the house. There was a lot of blood, a LOT of blood all over the snow. With his head still spinning he let them carry and drag him into the living room where he was dumped onto the couch. Mum stripped the blood-clotted jacket and shirt off of him and wrapped him in several blankets.

Lying on the sofa, he noticed Mum hand Bill had brought the old woodstove in from the shed and had it hooked up to the fireplace in the living room.

Bill busied himself with tending the fire, "So it looks like the Berger's are going to sit tight down here for a while."

Natog watched his brother load the stove. "Why's that? Thought they would go up first chance they got."

"Well, it's cold up there, real cold, and they don't want to get stuck on the way there in an ice storm or something."

"You sound disappointed."

"Well it makes the most sense, we have food, and fuel, and up there we could survive!"

Mum came in with a bucket of water and some soap, and washed Natog's clothes sitting by the fire in her favorite easy chair. "I'm not ready to just leave, Bill, and neither are they, it seems."

Natog watched the flames of the fire through the little vent in the stove's door. "I don't think we could take everything anyways. I was doing an inventory, and I could fill my whole truck with just canned goods."

Bill sounded sullen, "So we leave some behind. We will still have plenty!"

"I know, but I think they have the right idea. If I abandon my house I know the local thugs will break in as soon as they can. Anything I leave I'll have to assume it's gone. I have the trailer, but even then there is no way I could get everything we could need. Plus, we are in no immediate danger here."

"Natog, could you handle something to drink?" Mum asked while she wrung out the fleece pullover and sweatshirt and hung them near the wood stove to dry.

"Hell yeah, I'm starving, but food might be a bad idea. Hate to waste it of I'm still out of sorts."

Mum went and made some tea from the kettle on the kitchen's wood stove. Returning with three mugs, she dispensed them to the family. "Ok, now what happened? I need to know who I'm going to shoot."

"Mum, It's the national guard from Nebrasksa, I think. They have locked down New Bedford."

"Why would the Guard from Nebraska be in New Bedford?"

Natog looked around at Bill's and Mum's faces. "Because New Bedford is burning."

Mum looked puzzled. "What?"

"At least 20 blocks are on fire, it’s a scene right out of hell.”

Mum looked a bit frantic, “I wonder if Ginny is OK.”

Bill gave Mum a hug, “I’m sure she is, Where did these National Guardsmen come from?”

“Looks like they were just about to be shipped out of Handscom when the lights went out. They were probably deployed to New Beige to assist the cops. I bet they'll be in Fall River, Brockton, etc. as well."

Mum looked concerned, "But why shoot? I mean if it comes to that..."

Bill chimed in, "The Federal government is tossing the Constitution out, and enacting Martial Law! We need to rise up and kill these totalitarian bastards!"

Natog sat up a bit during Bill's rant. "Easy there Sam Adams. Let's look at it logically. These troops were about to go to a war zone, and spent how many months in training to face a hostile population. I rabbited, and that was that, the training kicked in."

Mum turned the drying clothes and replied, "I don't know, but if anyone shoots at me I'm going to shoot back. And that is that."

"Hell Yeah!" added Bill.

"I agree, but I was outgunned, and out classed." Natog sat up more, feeling a bit better. "Now we need to figure out what we are going to do. It's tough as hell to keep in communication with each other."

Bill got a evil grin on his face. "I think I got us a solution to that." He got up and went outside.

"Want more tea?" asked Mum.

"Please, got some toast? I think I'd like to try some food."

"You always did love that as a child. I'll get the supplies we can make it here by the fire."

While Mum was in the kitchen, Natog got up experimentally and stood. Bending over he got a little dizzy, but he didn't barf, which was a good sign. His head was throbbing though from the rush of blood.

"What are you doing!" Mum cried as she came back in the room.

"I'm fine Mum, really. Just a bit lightheaded from the blood loss, but I'll be fine."

"You were SHOT in the HEAD."

"I wasn't shot in the head, it was a ricochet. It just proves just how stubborn I am."

"Got that right." Mum began warming a cast iron pan on the wood stove when Bill came bursting back in.

"Happy Kwanza!" Bill exclaimed as he tossed a few boxes on the floor.

Digging into the boxes, Natog and Mum pulled out a series of marine VHF radios. They were brand new and still in the box.

"I got a few real nice antennas too, we should be able to chat back and forth."

Mum asked the obvious question, "Where did you steal them from?"

Bill was still grinning like a fox in a henhouse, "I didn't steal them, I got their generator working, and took these in trade."

Natog and Mum exchanged dubious glances and Mum asked the next question, "Do they work?"

"Hell yeah, if we put the antenna high enough we should make the 20 miles to Natog's house."

Natog grabbed bill by the shoulder and looked him straight in the eye, "It's a good catch, but don't hang around these guys. The cops or guards will catch onto whatever they are up to. And If they will shoot at me for running from a checkpoint, who knows what the fuck they will do to a looter."

"I know, but when opportunity knocks, you got to run with it."

Mum handed Natog and Bill toast with butter, sugar, and cinnamon. While they happily munched away, Mum refilled their mugs with tea. After breakfast, Bill got suited up and went out to cut wood. Mum cleaned the house, and with Natog's urging she reluctantly went through the pantry to inventory what food she had.

With the supplies Natog brought last week, it looks if Bill and Mum were going to have enough food for the month, but that was going to be a bit tight, and repetitive. Looks like the old cans of green beans that haunted the back of the cupboard were finally going to get eaten.

Natog was feeling a lot better with the sugar and starch in his system, so despite the protesting of Mum, he went outside and cut and split wood with his brother. After a few hours, with lots of breaks, they had enough wood cut and split for a week, and enough wood brought in from the woods to easily last a month, once Bill cut and split it.

The source of the wood was hundreds of felled trees in the woods across the street and in the landlocked lot behind the house. Both property owners could do nothing with the lots because they couldn't pass perc tests, so they did nothing with them. Which includes harvesting damaged or felled trees, it seems. Bill and Natog were more than happy to provide the service to clean up the wood when Mum's money was tight, no need to ask permission, either, as the owners lived out of state.

Mum made lunch and called the boys in. A meal of leftover pasta from the night before with Mum's spaghetti sauce, sausage and the last of the bread made into garlic bread was just what the doctor ordered for Natog. During the meal, they came up with call signs and what channels to listen on at what times to monitor.

After lunch, Natog loaded the roll of cable, the antenna, and the radio into the truck so he wouldn't forget it. Then the climbed a tall pine tree in the back yard and hung the antenna as far up as they could. Running the cable into the house, Bill connected the VHF radio to a car battery. A few minutes after they powered it on, a message came over the speaker.

Mum looked up from her knitting, "Well looks like a few others have radios that are working too."

Natog picked up the packaging and sorted it into burnable and not burnable piles. "Yeah, I wonder how many base stations made it, the EMP must have fried anything hard wired."

Later on, after more tea, Bill and Natog went over his maps and managed to plan out a route through Dartmouth, Westport and Freetown that should avoid any major intersections. If they were going to go to Maine, then Natog would have to conserve fuel, which meant they wouldn't be able to see each other. With the radios they could keep in touch.

They busied themselves with patching the two bullet holes in his windshield with packing tape, and putting fresh snow on the blood in the driveway. There were two other bullet holes, one in the passenger side quarter panel, and the cross brace for his roof rack. Bill summed it up succinctly, "That nitwit needs to learn how to shoot!"

With plenty of daylight left, Natog drove down the back roads through Westport, then Freetown. Once in Freetown, he used bolt cutters he kept in his truck's tool box to cut the locks on the entrance roads through the State Forest. He closed the gate after he entered, and used a zip tie to keep the gate from opening on its own.

He drove with the window open a little, as the fresh air made him feel better. Also, the noisy Hummers could be heard far away with the radio off. It was just getting dark when Natog pulled into the garage. He had a hair over a half a tank of gas left. Feeding the dogs, he skipped dinner and went to bed after getting a small fire going to warm up the cold basement.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

In Response to ADMIN

A quote by Admin on an earlier post.
I don't understand right wingers.

Why are you right wingers so worried about the poor that Jesus told us to care about when it is Big Business, Corporate Welfare, and Jacked up Defense Spending taking almost all your money? The percentage the dollars going to the poor, whether deserving or not, is minuscule in comparison.

Why don't you ever worry about the rich ripping off the bulk of your tax dollars?

That seems to be hunky doory with the greedy, evil, nasty, mean and racist rightwingers (and that's how I see y'all--simply as awful people).

They shill for corporate health insurance, Big Pharma, and anybody who PAYS off some loudmouth to rile them up such as Beck or Rush.

Talk about your stupid and dumb masses.

The Scandinavians are happiest with their government, dummies. They must be doing something right with THEIR tax dollars--oh, they're taking care of their common people instead of the rich like we do.

Duh, brain dead stupidos. Go get mad at the Mexicans they are letting in to do the rich man's dirty work for pennies so the wealthy can make a bigger profit at YOUR expense. Don't ever get mad at the rich who hire them.

Get mad at the poor and unemployed instead of corporations shipping all the jobs overseas.

Maybe you can march against the native Americans next. They get some tax dollars, a few, since most of them are dead.

Why don't you stupid right wingers just go and worship Satan outright?

You greedy and evil people deserve all you get. You are like th people who get scammed--played off their own greed.

It's too bad the liberals, the progressives who actually care about other human beings (that's the difference in a nutshell) might have to suffer too.
September 13, 2009 9:29 AM
First off, let’s get this out of the way: What the FUCK did you call me? A “Right winger”? Fuck you! Obviously your rush to judgment neglected to notice the fact that I am a Libertarian, which is on the Z axis of your little “Right vs. Left” or more appropriately, “Us vs. Them” world.

Your ignorance of what I stand for is as obvious as the lies coming from a politician’s mouth. I do not support large corporations, nor do I support the military-industrial complex, nor do I rally behind big pharma. Perhaps you should take a look at yourself, and educate yourself before coming onto my blog and attempting a feeble smear campaign. A few facts go a long way, my misguided troll.

Let’s take a look at ACORN, the poster-organization for the Liberals. They are under investigation in many states for voter-fraud, and pay their officers bigger salaries than most of the fortune 500 companies. So they get you to donate money for the poor, but yet stuff their pockets with the cash. The point here is that each side is flat-out wrong, and there needs to be a change.

The tragedy here is you cannot think through your position. I’m willing to bet you never thought to ask why half of my salary should go to taxes. And a large portion of those taxes are going to “feed the poor” who will not fend for themselves.

Let’s have a thought-experiment, shall we? Let’s say we have a single mom with 5 kids. She gets welfare to provide for herself and her family. The problem is that something given has no value. Let me repeat that so it sinks in, something GIVEN has no VALUE. So the food stamps are traded at half value for cash, which is spent on the drug of choice. The food stamp money wasn’t EARNED so it is WORTHLESS. I realize this is not always the case, that there are welfare mothers out there that just need a leg up.

How do I know this? You see, I was on welfare as a child after my asshole father left. Did my Mum stay on welfare? No, she worked 3 jobs to get off of welfare. It can be done, but the vast majority of welfare recipients do not see welfare for what it is: SLAVERY.

That’s right, Slavery. Slavery is when your will is surrendered to another. It doesn’t matter if it is voluntary. These people are subjecting themselves to suckle on the rotten teat of the government. They mindlessly follow the path of entitlement and are used as political footsoldiers by the Liberals.

Now, to continue our thought-experiment, what if instead of a handout, we give education on how to better stretch the food-dollar. By baking bread for 25 cents a loaf at home instead of $3.75 a loaf in the store? Employ her part time at a reasonable wage filing paperwork in a government office, and performing data entry on old birth certificates, etc? Some of these welfare-mothers would work in a day-care with a certified day-care employee that runs the joint. That would be their job. These jobs would have a “three-strike and you’re out” rule so if you’re fired for smoking crack, then you have two more chances and then you go hungry, and the kids are put in foster care. Bet your ass these mothers would work like hell for that money, and that money would have VALUE, because they WORKED for it.

So what’s better? A handout, or work? Education in a career (probably not glamorous, but a career) or working the street to make a score? This is the limited thinking of the progressives that drives me nuts. You don’t think that the Left is not in bed with Corporations? That Big Pharma isn’t behind the National Healthcare being rammed through Congress? More healthcare = more patients, more patients = more profit. Stop being a fool and open your eyes for the truth. You really, really, need to read Atlas Shrugged. Your eyes would be opened by what the Mouchers and the Looters do. Then again, you might be cheering for them. At least I can try to convince you of your folly.

You criticize me for being part of a “stupid dumb mass” but in the last few paragraphs I have provided you with a positive, clear-cut solution to some of the poverty in America. What suggestions have I heard from the Progressives? None. Nothing but more of the same shit that is obviously not working.

While I am on the subject, you refer to yourself as a Progressive. If you have read anything of history you would not refer to yourself as that. Progressives were behind the Eugenics programs of the 30’s which was a direct influence on National Socialism and the slaughter of millions. Even in America the Progressives are directly responsible for the forced sterilization and MURDER of thousands. I suggest you quietly contemplate if you really do want to call yourself a Progressive.

If you do you will be supporting the following:
Protesting the government would be a crime
Forced sterilization of all criminals (regardless of severity of crime)
The abolishment of the middle class by taxation
Increasing reliance of all families except the political and industrial elite onto welfare. That’s 95% of Americans on Welfare.
Subjugation of Americans to a Global State, where the Bill of Rights has no legal status.
Employment into slave camps to work for the few international corporations allowed by the State.
Just read 1984, by George Orwell, for the endgame of the Progressive State. I’m not joking here, I am DEAD FUCKING SERIOUS. After careful consideration, if you still claim to be a Progressive, then realize that when the uprising happens that we will be at war. That I am one of the 3%'ers that will rise up and destroy the Progressive State. I prefer action to to empty feeling of taxing someone else to validate my theft of thier hard-earned money.

I found a Bug-Out-Location?

I wrote this post from the “Berger’s” farm in Maine. I was invited to come up and hang out, and seeing as wasn’t on call this week, I made the trip up. He’s got a lot of land, and it’s very remote. The only problem is there are ICBM missile silos up here in Maine, quite a few in fact. I never would have guessed, but because of its remoteness, but still in the lower 48 it does make sense. I guess this is why JWR doesn’t rank Maine too high on his list of retreat areas.

Unless you’re worried about nuclear Armageddon, I think Maine is just dandy. You have to be prepared for the cold though. Here on the farm it gets to -30F regularly, and the maintenance of the animals in wintertime can take its toll. You need a lot of hands for the amount of animals he has up here. They have a couple horses, about a dozen geese (who I’m going to kill for getting me up at 4:30 am) a few ducks, two kinds of goats, pigs, pigeons, rabbits, a hundred chickens, and a llama.

That is a bit too much for two people to handle, no wonder Bill is up here all the time giving them a hand. That’s also why Bill, Mum and I have an open invite if the poop hits they fan. It is remote enough that a LP/OP isn’t needed, or at least I think the dogs do a better job, there is no way they would be able to provide for themselves without additional manpower. The two of them couldn’t hope to protect themselves from any kind of determined attack. The farm is a farm, not a firebase with 300m of cleared land around it.

The other reason is if the rest of the family convoys up here, they will need shooters, like Bill and myself to help them make the trip. There are 12+ major cities that you need to cut directly through to get here. The rest of the Berger family has not one clue on military tactics or what real dangers are out there. The Matriarch of the family knows the poop will hit the fan, and more importantly, she knows what she doesn’t know. That’s where Bill, myself and a couple others come in.

Works for me. Works for them. A win-win if there ever is one.

It is beautiful up here. The trees are just starting to change and the sky is clear and cool. Autumn in Maine is a grand time, it is my favorite of the 6 seasons they have. Oh yeah, Maine has six seasons, didn’t you know? You have Winter, Spring, Black Fly, Summer, House Fly, and Autumn. Black Fly season is legendary, as swarms of black flies roam for the blood of humans for a couple weeks in June. House Fly season is in the end of August, when houseflies swarm from who-knows-where for a few weeks. I talked with a few locals and they originally scoffed at the six season idea, but after a few of the farmers agreed, they all decided it was a keen observation from a Masshole like myself.

The whole point of the trip was to see a 4ish acre parcel of land with a cabin for sale for ~$10k. I never got to see it because of a few scheduling issues. I’m pissed, but that’s Bill being Bill. I’m going to have to make the trek up there soon to see it before it’s snowed in. Once the snow falls the only way in or out of this cabin is by snowmobile, or on foot for the 5 mile hike to where the roads are plowed. So I need to get up there sooner, rather than later.

I’ve always wanted some land in remote Maine, for camping. Now, it would make a good place to run too, but the Berger’s farm would be better. The small town has a medical center that would come in real handy, along with other infrastructure that the cabin would be too remote to use. I know people are thinking about a town + lack of food = lawlessness, but in this part of Maine, just about everyone has chickens, goats, or pigs they raise to fill the freezers for the winter. Plus the game is plentiful, and the population sparse. IF I make the drive up here again, I better see this place or I’ll strangle Bill.