Starship Survival

I have come to the realisation that preparations for post-cataclysm survival are much like preparations to travel to another planet.

Firstly - you're going to be in your little shelter for a long time, and you don't quite know if conditions will be exactly what you're expecting.

Secondly - you have to make sure you have everything you're going to need once you get there, or at least be able to make what you need out of what little there is.

If you're planning to be there for a while, you better be able to grow your own food, including while you're on the way, even to the extent of planning what essentially will be an ecosystem. It's not enough to pack lots of food - at some point, the food that you need for an indefinite stay becomes more than you possibly could take with you. So, you begin to examine first the easy things to grow, then realise that you need much, much more to make it happen properly. Of course, in a small shelter/space vehicle, your options are limited, you make seed stores, perhaps some smaller animals, and hope that they all last long enough...

Or, you go big, make lots of space to get a range of basics going all the time - fish, grains, even trees (at least trying to keep them from getting too tall), bees possibly. You begin to realise that it's a lot of work for one person, of course, and a single person may not have the capital and time to bring it all together.
Moreso if you want a secure, underground shelter - anything large and good is not going to be cheap.

I mention bees, and immediately people would think of european honeybees. There are, however, a number of other species of bee that are much smaller, and more fortunately do not sting - making them much safer to handle in a confined area. It also means that you have less to get - beekeeping is expensive if you think traditionally.

In short, you start thinking much along the same lines as someone planning to send humans to another planet.

The Right To Survive

A new shadow has cast itself, this one much closer to home - quite literally.

Over the past weeks, we have had a number of white supremicists in. It started quietly, though offensively - after all, what do you say to a customer, in their 50's or 60's, who lays the blame for the New York terrorist attacks of 2001 on the Jews, and says so quite plainly?

There has been, though, a slow increase in more out and radical types; it is not that we are a shop meant to appeal to them, such as a militaria shop, nor do we target them other than as individual members the buying masses. We don't (professionally or privately) espouse racist or separatist ideologies; we don't treat customers any differently because of their ethnicity, sexuality, or any line drawn by people to differentiate between "Them" and "Us" - we just obviously supply some of what they want. Not surprising when you supply solar panels, batteries, amongst other things.

Encountering them has left me wondering... If and when civilisation was to fall, if the rule of law was to suddenly break down - would it be possible to do what I am trying to prepare for, with them knowing where I was, and what I was doing? Would it be possible to come to some accord with them? Not supporting them, or being at war with them - but a level of mutual understanding and non-interference? Would it be possible, even, to have some level of trade? Could I prove myself (and anyone with me) more useful to have alive than to kill?

The grapevine has it that they have a warehouse about half an hour further out from where I am endeavouring to grow a food supply; in it, they are well armed, with assault rifles and plenty of ammunition. The unanswered question is whether they have made preparations for post-civilisation survival, or would they quickly take to raiding?

Can you negotiate with people who want to take the food from off your trees? Would it be possible to persuade them to stop at your fence line (or even further off), when they are armed and you are not?

Am I white enough for them to even accept me as human in their eyes?

Obviously, it would be easier if I had my chemistry lab set up, or was better equipped as a field hospital (there again is the need to befriend a medical doctor), obviously better prepared for some things than they are - giving them a reason to not harm.

Another thing would be to include a few poisonous plant species in your garden - nothing says leave me alone like a lethal salad.

A counter example, one that I have always found false, and indeed irritating, was in the movie Mad Max 2 - the titular character finds himself hired to side with a group of post-apocalyptic survivors who run a small, remote oil well and refinery, and against a group of raiders. Both sides obviously have things that the other needs - the raiders use fuel at an alarming rate, all things considered... Yet neither side seems to realise that they would be better off finding a way to trade...

Of course, a semi-organised group would be much easier to deal with than lone survivors, hungry for the fruits of your labour, and having no reason to stop from trying to take it.

Yesterday the end, tomorrow the beginning.

Today the last war started.

Today began the slow, downward spiral that at once brings oblivion and birth. Like the phoenix immolating itself, a fire has been lit that will consume all only to bring life anew. Perhaps, though, a life without us - that is always the risk.

Like all things most dangerous, it has started barely noticed, and the flame that is given time to build, a gentle gust of wind to build its strength. A flame can be too easily snuffed out - too strong a wind will whip the flame away before it can become independent, so can it be smothered in fuel. So, a few notice it, and either ignore it, or cannot report it... or are the arsonists who lit it.

Anger is a strange thing; it can give us the strength to keep going, yet will easily rip us apart. When applied by nations, only desolation results. Nationalistic pride leads neighbours to aggression - preemtively "assuring their own safety", yet pulling the house down around their own heads. When one attacks, there is little need to whip the people into a beserk frenzy.

I do not know how long it will take for the few flames to build to a firestorm, all that I know is that, for all their leaders bluster, millions of civilians will die - for little cause.


So, I continue my progress at building a farm, learn all the things required to become self-sufficient. A few more trees arrive, some with nitrogen fixing bacteria - useful if you live somewhere where the soils need developing. More food trees, some spice trees; never denigrate a spice tree - the taste of something beyond the bland can have a good effect on morale.

A good variety of food, spices, and essentials (such as tobacco, coffee, even pepper) could be traded if one is of that mind. Albeit most people would have plenty, even for the medium term, or would be able to steal while shops were still full... but consumables get consumed.

A change of track

Having long since grown irritated with my job, I have quit without much fanfare but with a few nice flourishes.

Have you, for example, ever seen or read "Fight Club"? A very interesting film and book. One character makes a habit of inserting single frames of... interesting material into the films he shows. I had also had the opportunity to tell the manager exactly where he could put his managerial style, and to ensure certain back pay will be paid out.

It wasn't a difficult decision to make, obviously, but I did not take it without securing some employment elsewhere - in my case in a small electronics store. Mostly retail, some repair, a lot of giving advice. The owner had been thinking of retiring, closing the shop completely, but I and a few other fans of the store were able to convince him to keep an interest, and let us run things. The pay is reasonable, not as much as before, but there is no need to travel an additional two (or more) hours.

There are definite advantages to it, even with a small drop in wage. Firstly, I do not have to travel; this means not only do I save substantially in fuel and car servicing, I also get time in the evening to tend my growing garden - savings which more than compensate for the pay drop. Secondly, and importantly, it allows me the chance to not be in the city.

Consider most survival scenarios - a city becomes a very dangerous place, and getting caught in one is a problem. Obviously, keeping away from a city is a good thing; it must be balanced with certain conveniences that the city brings. Getting caught when the roads are blocked because everyone is trying to leave in a panic is difficult, but so is getting access to things by living as far as possible from "civilisation". I have decided that, as compromises go, living a little over an hour's travel from the city, on acreage, working in a satellite township, and going into the city the once or twice a week that I need is, while not ideal, at least leaves some of the worse problems behind.

So, I have started a new job. Another useful aspect is that many people in the area want solar panels, and plenty of other alternatives to mainstream technology. There are the people that classify camping as having all "conveniences" - such as television; there are plenty of the type who give a good reason for the need for thinning out of the species, and who would be unlikely to survive any major troubles for long. Yet, there are some who have a certain level of awareness...

Rider on the storm

I have been troubled of late...

Recurring dreams... are they products of worry, or foreshadowings?

I dreamt of a museum; relics of dead cultures festooning the walls. None of the exhibits were worth remembering, except one pair. On the wall, a large, stone mural, its carvings of Fenrir and his wolves leaping, attacking, ravaging the last few men left - a prophecy of the end of the world. Its sandstone almost dripping the blood of those already fallen.

In front, a raised platform, a large horn of bronze, even with its curls easily three metres long. Undecorated, its simplicity belies its nature. This horn, I knew without hesitation or possibility of error, was the horn; the horn that opened the gate, and shattered the chains that bound Fenrir.

I knew that the time had come, that what was to happen had to happen. There was no time better, or worse. It had been written, it must be. I knew that I could not permit anyone else to take the burden of responsibility for what was to happen, I had to press my lips to the mouth-piece. Without allowing my steps to falter, I stepped forward and embraced the end of this world.

A long, sonorous note came forth, a note not before heard in history; I stepped back and waited, the moments of silence only interrupted by my own heart. Then, I heard the start of the end. A soft scraping, the stone mural pulled apart, mist pouring out and a swallowing blackness beyond. Only when the carving had opened its fullest extent did the howling of wolves begin.

I pulled out the shotgun I found slung across my back as the wolves leapt out, ignoring me on the way to do their tasks, the obsidian skin of the beasts sleek, only allowing a glimpse at the chaos. The few rounds fired from the shotgun found their targets, yet I knew that it would be insufficient to deal with the hordes. My body stretched and changed, taking a more panther-like form, giving me claws to rend, and a mouth capable of snapping their necks or choking the beasts.

I knew that, while I might not last to the very end, I could and would make a good account of myself - I had called the darkness forth, and begun battling it. I had accepted all the responsibility and blame, but knew that from the destruction, new life and a new world would eventually come.