A Texan Prepares

I occasionally get comments of the sort that I'm full of excetum bovis and don't believe half the stuff I say, or in this case write about.  One of the things I am very serious about is being prepared, following the wisdom of Louis Pasteur, who famously said, "Fortune favors the prepared mind (La fortune favorise l'esprit préparé).".  

I grew up with hurricanes and tornadoes, and I now live in one of the most earthquake prone, volcanic regions on the planet.  Furthermore, we are all living through a period in which the Bumbledicks are driving humanity to the point where things have already started to burn.  Living the prepped life, as I always have, means being fully self-sufficient under as many different circumstances as I can imagine for as long as I possibly can - meaning the rest of my natural days.

One reason I do this is to provide the most comfortable lifestyle for my family under the worst possible circumstances.

Another reason is that I have no intention of being one of those hapless people sitting in a filthy refugee camp being screamed at by goons with pathological lack of empathy and bad breath.

When one begins the process of prepping, the first order of business is to assume the worst possible scenario one thinks is most likely.  For example, a major earthquake and tsunami wipe out any semblance of civilized living, and it is necessary to get far away from the filth, rot and despair left behind.  Or perhaps millions of people are driven to desperation and begin revolting, followed by a strict military clamp down and one needs to bug out fast.  Both scenarios have occurred within the past 50 years right here - the Banda Aceh quake and tsunami of 2004, and the military coup of 1964, or the sequel in 1998.  I have no reason to believe they couldn't happen again.

So, once one imagines the worst-case scenario, one begins to ponder what things would be most important and then figure out a way to address the issues in the smallest, lightest way available.  I also look for solutions that have multiple uses, so that each item you carry has a range of survival applications.

Finally, I highly recommend reading the Foxfire Series of books.  This is a collection of lessons learned for self-sufficient living taken from folks living in the Appalachian mountains of the US (a.k.a. hillbillies).  Tools are useless if you don't know how to use them.

Priority #1: Water

The average person will die in 3-5 days without water, and dehydration is not a pleasant way to go.  There's also the issue of parasites and bacteria, which need to be addressed to prevent illness.  My pack contains a Berkey Sport filter and storage for up to 10 liters for drinking and hygiene.  I also have the necessary skills to make a water filter out of sand and charcoal, as well as knowing how to find subsurface water. 

Note also the the mylar space blankets and climbing rope (mentioned below) can be rigged to catch dew and rain water for collection in the 10-liter water bladder.

Priority #2: Food

The average person will die in 20-30 days without food.  In the tropics, finding food in the wild is not particularly difficult, but there is the matter of getting to it.  My pack contains some beef jerky and 1kg of mixed nuts, which provide a surprising variety of vitamins, minerals, fats, and carbs in a compact and flavorful form.  Chewing nuts also activates the salivary glands to keep mouth, sinuses and esophogus moist.  I also have an assortment of seeds for vegetables if I manage to find a place where I don't have to move for a few months.  Additionally, the seeds themselves can be eaten and are full of energy.  Having skills for preserving and canning food are very handy, as well.

In addition to trail snacks, I have energy bars and soup packets, along with a German military style cook set, with two pots and a bowl in one neat package.

Priority #3: Shelter

Being able to get out of the elements is not only physically desirable, it has a significant psychological effect.  My pack contains a machete, a hatchet, several knives, a 30m climbing rope, and mylar space blankets that can all be used to create and secure a make-shift shelter and even a house with enough time and scavenged materials.  I also have a 4-person tent with enough room for 3 people and gear, which can shelter up to 6 people if half sleep at night while the other half keep watch, and vice versa.

There are tools, as well.  A Leatherman's 17-in-1, a portable tool kit with a hammer, crescent wrench and pliers, and a gross of nylon and velcro cable ties.

Included under shelter are clothes.  I carry 5 t-shirts, 3 pairs of shorts, 3 pairs of underwear, socks and a towel - always a towel.  If you've read Douglas Adams, then you know how useful and necessary a towel can be.

Priority #4: First Aid

This is one thing that you can never fully anticipate nor preapare for.  Fortunately, my wife and I don't require any regular medications, so a well-designed First Aid kit, some aspirin, and a variety of salves, cleansers and bandages is sufficient for most foreseeable issues.  A little training in basic first aid helps, as well.  Knowing how to set bones, close punctures and stanch bleeding is far more valuable than a weighty pack of stuff.  Don't forget that a sewing kit not only repairs fabric, but can close a wound in a pinch, as well.   Here, the most useful tools are a sharp pair of scissors and tweezers.

Priority #5: Communications & Luxuries

These are items that are extremely useful and can make life a lot more comfortable, but not critical to survival.

My pack contains a solar panel with two USB ports for phones, power banks and a 21-channel shortwave radio.  The flashlight is also solar charged and has a third USB port.  I have a trekking stick with built-in compass and flashlight that also serves to hook fruit a high as 4m off the ground (my height plus the stick).  There's an air mattress and sleeping bag to make like just a little bit more tolerable, a magnifying glass for starting fires with a lens cleaning cloth, and a supply of Zip-Lok bags to keep things dry.  I also carry a 2T solid-state disc with scans of all our documents, which I won't bother to list, but think of all the documents you might need in an emergency, along with a little cash and barter items.  On the way out the door, I can also grab my original identity docs.

Altogether, the pack weighs about 20kg, or 50 pounds.  It's a monster, but I agonized over the purchase and ended up with a Kelty Coyote 85-liter.  It is extremely comforable and buckles up nice and tight to prevent load shifting and keep the weight close to my body.  I am 189cm/6'-2" and the pack still has a little extra slack in all directions.

Life, as George Carlin obserived, is having a place for your stuff and an ever decreasing supply line of smaller versions of your stuff.  My pack is designed for maximum survivability and functionaality, without sacrificing some key comforts.  In a pinch, though, there are things that can be shed to lighten the load.  Some are handy, other just fun, and any of those items can be pitched to get more agile.  

So, there you are.  Money where my mouth is.  I am personally prepared for what I think may be the worst-case scenario in the near to mid future, and it is adapted to the environment where I live.  The only remaining skill is knowing how to pack for maximum efficiency and functionality.

A note about electronic devices and carrying a solar charger.  Plenty of people say why bother with this if it's TEOTWAWKI.  My phone has two 128Gb SD cards, one in the phone and one stored in a safe,dry spot.  Both are loaded with books, music, art, and even a couple of indispensable movies. My book collection contains about 4,000 titles ranging from how-to references to the most arcane philosophical treatises (think of all the reading time you'll have with no TeeVee).  I am essentially carrying Western civilization on 2 grams of silicon.  Though your phone may not reach out and touch anyone, it can be a life-saving reference library and educational tool.

None of this is wasteful or silly.  Every last bit of it can be used for recreational hiking and camping.  Considering the Frankenvaxxx has probably killed off most commercial pilots, I anticipate doing a lot of that for the foreseeable future, since we won't likely get off the island any time soon.

No worries, though.  Indonesia has 5,000 deserted islands just waiting for me to assault them.

Sing-A-Poor

Doa-Doa Perjalanan - Traveler's Prayer

SINGAPORE -- As you may have guessed by now, your intrepid reporter has trekked across the Java Sea to land on yet another island, though one considerably smaller than the one on which he dwells.

Lion Air provided the transportation, which was unremarkable (something most air travelers want) except for the amusing game of runway hopscotch at touchdown.  Fortunately, Lion provides for just such occasions by placing prayer books for six different faiths in the seat-back pocket.  I read all of them, being one who dislikes flying commercial, since I'm not the one making life and death decisions, especially when it comes to my own life and death.

Once inside the terminal at Changi Airport, you quickly realize that if there is any place on Earth you have to be Snowdened (c), this is it!  Cactus and butterfly gardens, shops and amusements, piano players at sundown, sleeping lounges, digital theaters, free internet, even a hotel inside the customs zone.  It's a place one could live for a while and not get bored.

Changi is, however, HUGE.  You will get some serious exercise dashing around that place.  Keep in mind that Singapore is not only a major Asian hub, but also every flight in or out is an international flight...there are no domestic destinations.

Once freed of Changi's charms, you break out into the blazing daylight to try and get a taxi.  I say try because, as I've noted before, Singapore is the only place in the world where the taxi drivers tell you where they are going, and with a bit of luck, it's close to where you want to go.

Me: "How much is it, sir?"
Driver: "Let's call it $20."
Me: "Let's call it whatever the meter says."  It was turned so only he could see it.
Driver: "$15.80."
Me: "Let's call it $16, then, shall we?"
Driver: (Mandarin cuss words)

I alight (it's a former British colony after all) on the sidewalk.  One thing I will grant Singapore, as much as I hate the place, is that it has wide, clean sidewalks, many with overhangs for shade.  It's a radical difference from Indonesia, where if there are sidewalks, they are covered with warung and kaki lima (tobacconists and makeshift eateries).

I'm on a visa run, which for those in the audience who are transnationalists know, is the bane of every foreign domiciliary outside the US, where immigration control is little more than a bad joke.  I've arrived at my agent's office building.

We all use agents around here.  If I were to try this myself, it would cost me $75 and two or three days in Singapore.  An agent can get it done in a day for $230 (Sing dollars, by the way).  I show up, fork over the passport, entry card, telex (authorizing my visa), a photo and a pile of cash.  I spend the next seven hours wandering the streets of Singapore, and POOF, I can go home with my shiny new permit to live in the country where I have a family and property.  Of course, that doesn't give me the work visa.  That's a whole different process that begins tomorrow when I'm back home.

Singapore has a number of benefits.  The mass transit is, in a word, amazing.  In another word, it's cheap, too.  All the way across the island is less than three Singbux.

In addition to the aforementioned sidewalks, it's also very clean, organized and runs like clockwork.  On top of that, this being the first day of Ramadhan, there are lines out the doors of the restaurants, whereas at home, the FPI is waiting to pounce on and trash any establishment that caters to non-Moslems (i.e., those of us who continue to eat during the fasting month).

On the bad side, Singapore taught me...at long last...the real definition of fascism.  You see, the definition of fascism is not the lost of freedom, but the commoditizing of it.  You can have all the freedom you want, as long as you have the money to pay for it.  For instance, you can have a car here as long as you buy the license to buy the car.  The license costs about the same as the car.  You can have a fully detached house as long as you buy the license to buy the house.  You are perfectly free in Singapore, as long as you got the Beeg Bux.  Same in all the other fascist countries.

Speaking of money, Singaporean money is a bitch.  It's made of plastic, so it is smooth as a baby's bottom.  While this may seem like a cool idea - the bills don't get wadded up and you can wash it and disinfect it if you want - it is impossible to fold and even harder to keep a grasp on.  If you have several bills in your hand and a stiff wind comes along, it slips right through your fingers.  I suppose that's the idea.  The fascists don't want you hanging on to your cash.  It slows the economy.  It's all about velocity.

The people are nice enough, but it's the kind of nice you would get if you lived somewhere where they throw you in jail for being unhappy.  You know the kind of smile folks give where the mouth does all the right moves, but the eyes refuse to join in the fun and games?  It's that kind of nice.

Singapore has all the vices for those stricken with them.  There's casinos, but if you are a citizen, you must pay 100 Singbux to get in.  Foreigners are free.  There's a whole section of town devoted to whorehouses, and you can find women from all over the world there.  Doesn't matter the country, you can find at least a dozen representatives from the Social Club there.

Booze is cheap and beer makers compete to see who can make the brew with the highest alcohol content.  The winner so far is one with 9% squeege.  That's a hefty beer, bro.  But I guess if you live in a fascist regime, it helps to be drunk a lot so's you don't really notice the right good a$$ pounding you're getting every day.

One can't escape the feeling of being cattle here.  People all seem to move in lock step.  They all wear Dior and Giordano.  They all reek of the latest designer pheromones.  The laws cover everything down to your bathroom habits - I kid not.  1000 Singbux if you don't flush a public toilet.  Makes you wonder if someone runs in after you leave to check, perhaps even measure.

Singapore is very sterile.  The longer I'm here, the more I feel my testosterone leaching away.  It's kind of like kryptonite to Superman.  Imagine an entire country full of Michael J. Foxes in The Secret of my Success.  Scary really.

I have received one good inspiration since coming here this time.  I am now determined to learn Mandarin.  That will be the international language of the coming century, replacing English in board rooms all over the world.  English may remain as the primary language of the plebes and proles, but if you want to enter the heady realm of corporate globalism, Mandarin is where it's at.  It's a stiff barrier to entry, which makes it perfect as a means of separating the executives from the wannabies.    If you want to be one of the privileged boot-lickers, I highly recommend Malay.

So, tonight I'll return home after a 21-hour ordeal.  Tomorrow, I'll give my passport to the agent who will initiate the IMTA (work permit) process.  In a couple of days, I'll have to go to immigration to give yet another set of electronic fingerprints, yet another digital signature, and yet another photo (they already have half a kajillion on file).

By the way, you may have read in the past week or so about the smoke from fires in Indonesia choking Malaysia and Singapore.  Singapore had near-fatal levels for a day or two.  Both countries complained loudly and bitterly about Indonesian farmers slashing and burning their fields.  Global press reports made Indonesia out to be the bad guys - international polluters.

What the stories didn't tell you is that the farms that were being slashed and burned were owned by Malay and Singaporean corporate palm oil interests.  Ain't fascism grand?  You slash and burn countries for profit and then blame them on the global stage for polluting your air.

A word to Singaporean corporate plantation owners - F%$K YOU!

So, now you have a little insight into transnationalist living.  It's all kinda wild and wooly.  There are competing business, lifestyle and religious interests all trying to claw over the other to get on top, because only on top can you buy more freedom.

Tote Board at Changi Airport

I'd give you more tastes of the Far Side, but I've got to catch the 2120 back to Jakarta after I hit the duty free and buy a jug of reasonably-priced hooch to tide me over the fasting month.

One last bit of news...when I do these day-trip things, I only carry a satchel, what the fags call a man-purse.  I've been back and forth to Singapore six times with my satchel, which I haven't really added or subtracted from in all that time.  Tonight, the security witch in Singapore confiscated an X-acto knife I've had in the bag for years across half a dozen countries and two continents.  Forgot I even had the thing.  Couldn't do much more than carve my initials in the seat-back with it.  Even made me sign a confiscation report, which I refused to do.

Agent: Would you sign here, sir?
Me: Why?
Agent: (pause) I need your signature.
Me: For what?
Agent: It's an acknowledgement.
Me: You're stealing my property and you want me to agree to it?
Agent: We have to confiscate your knife.
Me: Confiscation is theft with legal authority.
Agent: Please sign here.
Me: No.
Agent: I...er...this...
Me: Thank you for stealing my property.

Probably all because I always put "TEXAS" in the area where it asks for nationality.  They hate when I do that.

Irishman On A Barstool

While the title of this column may seem redundant, it comes from the old saying: Put two Irishmen on barstools and they'll solve the world's problems in a night.


Being Irish AND Texan makes us imminently qualified to save the world.  Certainly, those two groups are the only being on the planet with a point of view big enough to even consider the task.  With that said, it falls once again on our shoulders to straighten out this mess we ironically call Western Civilization.


Like any farmer will tell you, you can't kill the weed unless you kill the root.  Many folks will tell you that money is the root of all evil.  We beg to differ, seeing more clearly than most.  Actually, the Root of All Evil is Matthew 18:20.  In case your New Testament is a bit rusty, this line says, "For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."


We know what you're thinking: "How could one line in an ancient work of fiction be the cause of all problems in the world today?"  We hear you.  Took us a while to figure this out, as well.  It just doesn't seem possible, right?


Well, follow along here...


The Roman Church (the Eastern churches are a little more sane) read this line as saying, when people gather at church, it constitutes a Body in Christ, or Corpus Christi.  Remember that word "corpus," it will come back to haunt us.


As a Body, this group therefore acted in concert as one being for the greater glory of God, and could not be separated into its individual components, or human being.  As the theological reasoning goes, this Body became the spiritually purified Corpus Christi, fed by his Flesh and Blood.  It acted as a single Mind, ultimately uniting the katholikos, or Universe, under the single banner of God (which gets into Law of Flags pretty darned fast).


This concept was incorporated (see? there's that word again) into the Ecclesiastical and Canonical Law, which was basically Roman Administrative Law inherited from the Law of Hammurabi via the (Holy) Roman Empire.  The Law of Hammurabi is the first known codification of contract, which is the foundation for all that follows from it.


So, the Roman Church decided that any group of its members constituted a Body, and was therefore incorporated, or 'within the Body'.  


By applying the Law of Contract, the Church decided that each member of the corporation (embodiment) was essentially under contract with the Body as a whole.  Thus, they were required to perform certain duties to ensure the health of the Body, such as pay taxes (donate money, tithing), observe certain rules and rites, and so forth.  If one failed to do this, he or she could be ex communicare, or 'out of communication' with the rest of the Body.


Now, since the (Holy) Roman Empire pretty much dominated the Western Hemispere for 1,000 years, it stands to reason that the Ecclesiastical and Canonical Law would underpin pretty much all other law in the nations subject to it.


Almost every voyage of 'discovery', such as Columbus', were invasions of conquest to claim the world for the Body of Christ.  If you didn't 'volunteer' to convert to Catholicism, you were summarily slaughtered.  If the color of your skin was anything less than the pearly white color of Jay-zus, then you were a lesser Creation and needed extra purifying (by whatever means were most painful).


What's that?  You don't think Jay-zus was white?  Just look at a thousand years of art throughout Europe.  He looks pretty danged white to me.


Back to the topic at hand...


When you were baptized, and later just by being born and 'registered', you became a part of the Corpus.  The modern nation-state operates almost identically to the (Holy) Roman Empire and its official church.  As a means of control, you are made fealty to the State, which is turn pays fealty to Rome.  It's just a hierarchical structure ultimately leading to the ruling God-head.  In other words, it's a pyramid with God at the top and His Ambassador (the pope) His designated ruler until He gets back from wherever it is He goes in times like these.

Pyramid?  With an All-Seeing All-Knowing God at the top?  Hmmm...where have we seen that image before?


Thus, we come to the modern situation.  We have groups of people acting in unison to effect change in the world.  They are united in purpose and vision, and thus constitute a Body under the law.  Since they are corporate, they are called a person without distinction for individuals within that Body.  Therefore, they enjoy a 'corporate veil' that shields the individual 'cells' of the Body from personal liability for the actions of the Body, since the Body is groups of cells acting together in common cause.


Now, with all that lined up, we can clearly see that the mega-corporations that run our lives and have more rights than individual human beings are nothing more than an extension of one line in one gospel in one book written back in the 300s.  Since these corporations are probably 90% of the problem with current society, we have a clear and defined means to change the world.  It requires three steps:


1) Immediately stop the requirement to 'register' (tell the king) the details of every birth, and all the documents and IDs based on that registration.


2) Strip corporations of their veils and legal status as 'persons', and limit the term 'person' to mean a single, solitary, natural human being.


3) Strip the Roman Church of its sovereign legal status, and forbid all churches everywhere from owning property of any kind, and take away their tax-free status.  They may only hold property as individuals, and the individuals are liable for the actions of the organizations they run.


You could write the law on a single sheet of paper, double-spaced for clarity.  Once passed and signed into law, it would take all of about three months to bring the world to a New Age of Liberty and Freedom, the likes of which have seldom been seen throughout history.

So, true to our Irish-Texan heritage, we have solved pretty much all of the world's problems in 1,000 words or less.  We think that anyone who deeply ponders the broad implications of both the status quo, and the beauty of the world without artificial 'persons', will have to agree with us.  In fact, you have to agree with us just because we're Irish-Texan and infallible in our reasoning.  Heck, the world should band together as a single body and declare us pope!


Ugh!  What are we saying?  Letting our power run away with us again...


Oh, and one other little change.  How about making politicians joinly and severally liable for any damages caused by laws that they pass?  Maybe that would get them to actually read the dam nthings before they vote on them.  Or maybe not....