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Hunkering Down – The Response

SHTF

As I suspected, the response to last weekend’s Hunkering Down post was thoughtful, and in some cases dismissive.

Pretty much everyone dismissed the original thesis’s choice of Hinsdale County CO as unworkable, as did I.  And most regarded that choice as “confirmation bias”, i.e. getting the facts to support a preconceived conclusion, or close to thereof.

The most supportable argument came from Reader Mike S., who wrote in part:

Lived in Fairfax Co., VA, a contiguous suburban county of DC. Slowly turning into Southern Maryland.
After visiting 5 states (including Texas) and filling in spreadsheets (Wife does NOTHING w/o a spreadsheet) we settled in East Tennessee.
Her health issues preclude further movement but Southern Appalachia is well watered, (mostly) self-sufficient in food, HEAVILY armed (It’s not “Are you carrying?” but “What are you carrying?”), and compared to the DC metro area crime free*.

*Almost anywhere is going to be crime free compared to our Nation’s Capital/Capitol.

And from Comments:

“Most people will never get out of the planning phase of this, treating it as a thought exercise. The few that might, will likely undersell the effort necessary to make it happen. It’s an expensive proposition to set up a redoubt or bunker. A true survivable landing spot will not come ready-made–it needs to be lived in, the land farmed, the ponds and streams kept clean, neighbors known, that sort of thing. Fewer than 3% of the population can sustain two livable homes simultaneously, so most believe their primary choices are to flee (to what, they have no idea) or hunker down and wait for FedCo and the Military to rescue them.” — Topcat

“And while big game and hunting may play a role, here in WY if the S truly hits the F, you won’t be using any vehicles (short of a mountain bike) to get around since gasoline will at best be rationed, and at worst simply unavailable. After a couple of years whatever you have stored (regardless of treatment) will be essentially useless. If you can’t hike to your hunting area and then pack out your kill, it don’t mean nothin’.” –– Blackwing1

The general consensus seems to be that the time to “bug out” is either in the past, right now or very soon.  During or after the ‘Pocalypse isn’t going to work.  Almost everyone seems to be resigned to staying put (as am I).

In similar vein, given that the average age of my Readers is ummmm advanced, the most pressing, and pretty much insurmountable problem is that of Rx resupply, with some saying that after about 90 days they’re gonna die anyway.  I’m willing to bet that nobody has a year’s worth of critical prescription meds in the cache.  I have about two months’ worth, and I’m probably in the distinct minority even there.  (New Wife, despite my urging, has less than half that, to my great despair.  Her response to my warnings can be summed up quite simply as:  “I have no interest in living in such a world anyway.”)

Let’s face it:  nobody is going to survive for very long if our current civilization turns into the New Dark Age.  Sure, some may survive a little longer than others because they’re well-supplied or else already close to being hunter-gatherers (living in the boonies, hunting / growing their food needs etc.).  Or else they’ve prepared to be predators to get what they need, although even that is going to be transitory as things like food, medicines and other essentials slowly disappear altogether from any kind of supply chain.

But as SOTI pointed out not long ago:  human beings survived being hunter-gatherers for centuries, but the average life expectancy was about 25-35.

The optimists among you suggested that perhaps some kind of order would be restored after a few months or so — but given how our society recently responded to a simple lockdown (let alone a complete breakdown), I’m not that confident.

Me?  I’m not going anywhere except maybe to Doc Russia’s little Festung  a couple-three miles from here.  I’m reasonably well-armed (coff coff ) and have several large Wal-Mart / Sam’s Club-type outlets within walking distance, so I’ll probably just do some shopping (of the AK-47 variety)… until those giant stores are emptied of everything I need.  After that… que sera, sera.

I’ll go down fighting, if I can;  but go down I most certainly will, eventually.  We all will.

Range time?  I think so.  If I’m going to go down, I’m damn sure going to have some fun, and take a few assholes with me.

News Roundup

Bad News

And speaking of friends not worth Smirnoff:


...just for kicks, we need a couple of Christian families to ask for an opt-out too, based on… ummmm I think it’s called… equal protection?


...like ordinary old headaches weren’t enough?


...at the moment, the ANC government is too busy offering support to Hamas to worry about the White Man’s Magic.

And speaking of the latter:


…1.) I don’t think that many Pals live in Gaza in total, and even if there are, 2.)
#Don’tCare #TheyStartedIt #Fuckem.

And the Great Cultural Assimilation Project News:


...there should be a LOT more of this.  (Not the slashy-slashy, the shooty-shooty.)


...could somebody pass the news on to this asshole?

And speaking of “shocking”:


...newsflash:  we never are.  Go peddle your panic somewhere else.


...for once, they got it right.  And proud we are of it, too.


...the Catholic church was unavailable for comment.  No doubt they were too busy hosting the funeral of a trannie atheist.


...her half-dozen OnlyFans subscribers must be distraught.  A quick reminder of whom we speak:


No man should;  but at least one man apparently has, as she recently popped a sprog:

…to prevent mass vomiting.

And speaking of the unspeakable:


...I had no idea that Pedo / Paedo World even had a hierarchy.  So what’s Joe Biden’s title, then?

And in the Travel Department:


...don’t go to:  1) Monaco, 2) London or 3) New York City.  Ask me how I know this.

And in today’s

  


...I imagine that the Hotness Competition among female firefighters is not that strong, but lessee anyway:

I guess her background as a porn actress has helped her in her new career.

And that’s the news.

Simplifying

Drive Time

I have often thought that our transportation problems can be largely solved by the re-introduction of the pared-down small pickup truck, similar to the Toyotas, Datsuns and Mazdas of years past, i.e. the 1970s:

Then I came upon this article, which talks about Toyota’s current attempt to do just that, the result looking something like this:

The 70s light pickups look almost dainty by comparison, but that’s because Nanny Gummint decrees that even the simplest and most basic of cars need to have all sorts of safety equipment included.  (By comparison, the earlier pickups had about as much safety equipment as a skateboard.  My old Mazda pickup from that era didn’t even have seat belts.)

And as for selling such things for only $10,000?  I’ll bet Mr, Free Market’s country house that not one American car manufacturer would even give lip service to the concept.

Not when a loaded F-150 sells for $75,000 and yields about $25,000 profit.

Afterthought:  my last Chicago car was a Mazda B4000 (similar to the Ford Ranger of the early 1990s), and I loved it.  I lost it in the Great Divorce Of 1996, and Ex-Wife drove it until (I think) 2012.

All the power I’d ever need, complete reliability, plus room for guns in the little extended cab.  If I could get its clone (11,000 miles on the clock as it had when I bought it, for $9,000) I’d grab it now with both hands.

Prole Drift

Food & Drink, Travels

I think it was the late (and much-missed) Paul Fussell who in one of his books (either Class  or Bad ) coined the term “prole drift” to describe how American society was shifting inexorably towards the working classes in terms of clothing, manners, taste and so on.  (Aside:  I love books written by ur-patricians like Fussell because I’m one of them, and unashamedly so.)

So I gladly admit to bias when I read articles like this one:


Almost a quarter of the population of Marlow in Buckinghamshire are aged over 65 and many of them think a Wetherspoons pub will attract ‘the wrong sort of people’.

For Readers of the non-Brit persuasion, Wetherspoons is a massive chain of pubs found all over the place, whose modus operandi  is typically to buy a failing pub (or any failing business, for that matter) and reopen it (sometimes under its own name even) as a place that sells cheaper fare — beer, wine, food whatever — to attract a large and it should be said loyal customer base.  Needless to say, the toffs and trendies tend to look down on Wetherspoons because inevitably, the kind of people attracted thereto are quite definitely Not Our Kind, Dear.

So this latest kerfuffle in Marlow should be seen in that context.

As it happens, I’ve actually been to Marlow simply because in looking for a place to have lunch while on a road trip, I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up there.

It is undeniably beautiful, as these English small towns go, but like the curate’s egg, only in parts.  While the main street is lovely, there are also parts that resemble Typical Brit Suburbia (i.e. fugly semi-detached dwellings) with a population to match. Not Yorkshire Mining Town, to be sure, but not a place where Mr. Free Market would feel at home either.

Here’s what I discovered when I retraced my steps and went back up to Marlow Road (the main drag):  fucking hell, it’s an expensive place to eat and drink, even by Brit standards.  Worst of all, the high street pubs are of the gastropub variety — at least, the ones I looked at were — and when I finally did find a place to eat — off the main street —  I ended up ordering a simple cheese sandwich, chips and a pint which still set me back close to £10 (which was a lot, back in the early 2000s, when the same meal in London cost me just under £5).  I don’t remember which pub it was, but it sure as hell wasn’t The Coach (as mentioned in the article).

So I can see why Wetherspoons would choose to open one of their corporate or franchise pubs there, because if you’re not one of the Snooty Set, there’s nowhere to get a decently-priced pub lunch in Marlow.  And while the Snooty Set are well represented in the town’s demographics, there is also a sizable percentage of people like, well, you and me;  and that that makes for a sound business case.

Finally, I find the outrage at the “prole” Wetherspoons to be hypocritical.  Why?  Because on that same Marlow Road can be found a Domino’s Pizza and Subway sandwich shop.

And if that ain’t prole, I dunno what is.

Quote Of The Day

Music, QOTD

From SOTI:

“The Rock ‘N Roll Hall Of Fame is as legit as the Nobel Peace Prize.”

Tangential thought:  Let’s assume that you had the option of selecting the very first ten entrants — performers separate from non-performers — to the RRHOF, which would they be (order not important)?

Mine are below the fold.

Read more

Perfect Something

Fine Art, Two-Minute Hate, Wokism

And another fine and wonderful thing comes under attack:

Michelangelo’s masterpiece, The Creation Of Man, on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is a symbol of white supremacy, according to one woke writer.

The world-renowned piece of art which features a white-skinned Adam reaching out his hand to God, has come under fire.

It has been called ‘the perfect convergence’ of Caucasian dominion.

My idea of “perfect convergence” would be that of an axe with this fuckwit’s head, but no doubt someone is going to have a problem with this.

Update:  Never mind;  it’s Robin DiAngelo.  Should have known.  Not even worth a rant, although I had one ready.  Every time this human shithole speaks, she lessens humanity’s sum of knowledge and goodness.

Worthless sack of wokist shit [redundancy alert].

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