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Saturday, May 31, 2014

event horizon


EVENT HORIZON

An event horizon is the boundary from where you are safe from an observable position.  Or, better yet, the point of no return.  Usually referred to the point where you get sucked into a black hole in space and who knows what happens.  You could be transported back to Victorian England where dinosaurs besiege London, or you could disintegrate painfully.  Whatever happens, you ain’t gonna tell everyone else if its good or bad because you ain’t in this universe anymore.  Any rational space traveler is going to stay the hell away from the event horizon unless he can Suicide By Planet Governor, pulling both of them down in a splendid orgy of revenge.  Now, I submit to you for your consideration just this:  survivalists are usually living on the wrong side of the event horizon.  As soon as the collapse of civilization creates a black hole they are going to be sucked in and never be heard of again.  And I don’t just mean the large urban areas they are inhabiting although that plays a part ( as I’ve said before, you are in as much danger from living in a city of a million as you are living in a town of one thousand if you can't escape the notice of the starving mobs ).  I’m talking about the actual dependence you have created on most things long distance trade related.  Civilizations don’t actually happen without trade, so even if our three thousand mile salads and our trans-Pacific sole source of shoes is silly as hell, in relative terms it is no more dangerous than Greece being dependent on its next door Mediterranean countries for grain. 

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Any dependence sucks you in within target.  If you own twenty acres yet must commute by car twenty miles for a job, you are still as exposed to the death of the petro-dollar when suddenly no one but Canada will accept our currency for the sixty plus percent of oil imports we are still dependent on even after fracking- just as exposed as the city apartment dweller.  Which is why I still think it is smarter to have paid for junk land instead of an in debt farm.  Intuitively, it is far smarter to be able to perpetually produce food rather than rely on a dwindling set amount.  Yet with storage food, as imperfect as that strategy is, importantly you escape being sucked into the system that is set to collapse ( obviously you need other factors in your favor such as distance from crowds and paid off land ).  By embracing a less perfect solution you just might be able to lessen the original problem.  I understand it is counterintuitive.  You think farming makes you less dependent.  And it would, a hundred some odd years ago before you needed debt and a petroleum dependent job to pay for that farmland, before taxes had to be paid for in Greenbacks rather than In Kind.  Being dependent on the system is like being in the trees and hence unable to see a forest. 

END
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Friday, May 30, 2014

mora knives

MORA KNIVES

I know that there are a lot of sites than feature weapons porn stars. Buy X plastic carbine. Oy, with the Veh, only twelve hundred dollars- such a deal! Only buy two grand battle rifles- your precious darling Yuppie skin shall wear it as a talisman and ye shall be free to inherit the valley of the blind as the one eyed king! That is bad enough, thinking that the reloading mechanism of a firearm can compensate for all your other failings. Far worse is the Carbon Steel Knife ONLY And I Repeat ONLY By A certified Stud Muffin Designer or Manufacture. Only buy a $60 pocket folder! Only buy a three hundred dollar belt knife. Your families life shall be forfeited if you settle for anything less you insignificant redneck worm! Now, while I think it is silly to buy let alone use something gay like a zombie hatchet or a ninja sword or a D&D inspired edged weapon, I’m thinking that as long as a knife is, one, sharp and two, based on a proven design, what the hell do you need it to be expensive for? Other than bragging rights?

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I don’t know about yours, but my crappy made in China stainless steel knives are sharp ( I use the kitchen ceramic disc between two plastic wheels sharpener- cheap and they work even on dull as dirt crap I pick up on the side of the road ) and use standard designs seen elsewhere on far more expensive weapons. Come on, people! Knives are about one damn thing the Chinese can’t screw up except by really trying. Yes, I’d prefer they were still made in Pakistan instead. That wish and $1.50 will get me a Starbucks plain coffee. Chinese stainless is a middlin weapon. Good enough. Buy many, and stock them deep. In the future when we are forced back into home cottage industries, knives will be far more expensive. Plus their sheaths will be far more dear as well, almost like buying a custom pistol rig is now.

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If you simply cannot be seen without a carbon steel knife, run to your nearest Bison Amazon ad link and go buy a Mora Swedish knife. You can buy them under $20. Yes, the sheaths are a bit crappy. But, hey, they are still functional if ugly. That takes care of your belt knife. As far as a folder, ask yourself how many dollar bills you want loose in your pants pocket. None, right? They will fall out and get lost. Same with a folding knife. Eventually, it WILL come up missing or lost. Pay accordingly. You want to know what kind of survivalist only has one really expensive rifle, or knife? An optimist. What do we say about that?

Optimist: my glass is half full

Pessimist: my glass is half empty

Realist: who pissed in my glass?

Don’t let someone piss in your half full glass.

END

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can oil update


CAN OIL UPDATE

When I last wrote on my marriage of a brilliant minions suggestion and my worship of the most important food group, I realize you were all agog yet troubled.  My, you exclaimed, what could possibly be a better idea ever.  Alas, the evil spouse is a Yuppie Scum who won’t be seen with any generic items in the kitchen so I am unable to emulate my favorite survivalist writer.  I wept for you and so did a little experimentation and am happy to report you too can now be just like me except the pretty hair.  I had taken empty Master Chef coffee cans ( the dark blue Wal-Mart coffee that is a reasonably modest $5.28 a can and tastes much better than the Wally generic or the Kroger generic ) and used them as a can to protect my Crisco type cooking oil.  You turn the coffee can upside down and place it over the oil, flip that upside down and put the coffee can lid on, then flip back over.  The oil is then right side up and protected by the can against rodents or what not.  Now, I suppose a lot of you don’t drink that brand of coffee because you are all refined and have fine tuned sensibilities and consider ten dollar a can Folgers the very least you can drink.  Well, lucky for you I had run out of blue metal coffee cans but had plenty of the plastic Folgers I get from work ( the stores donate the open cans to us- evidently the majors think they are losing money on $12 a can coffee so they have cheapened the glue on the plastic seals ).  They were JUST a smidge too short for the Wal-Mart generic shortening cans.  But by taking off the oil lid they then fit.  Just cram the oil lid in the side between the two container walls.  These are the Folgers red cans with a barely indented carrying handle- the 33 ounce cans.  I’ve not only replaced my then $5 lard pails that are all too old and have been repeatedly frozen by being in the travel trailer over winter ( they now sell for $7 up ), I’ve more than doubled my cooking oil on hand.  You don’t want to just store the waxed paper oil cans as is-but by putting the protective plastic over it you’ve now got the better packaging at half the price.

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Thursday, May 29, 2014

bio and biblio


BIO AND BIBLIO

I’ll probably never be an important enough writer, heard by enough people or ever making much of an impact ( this leaves aside the obvious fact that as we head into an extinction level event the last thing anyone is going to do is use any author of any import for anything other than their pages as toilet paper and firestarter ) to actually warrant a biography or a bibliography, but hope springs eternal our oxygen wasn’t entirely wasted and so I’m going to put forth a modest effort to record for prosperity.  I’ve wanted to do this for some time, if for no other reason it is something a bit different.  Believe me, I ain’t impressing anyone with the dubious life I’ve led.  But I’ve always enjoyed reading of authors motivations and backgrounds.  And it is all about me, so here goes.

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My childhood was a rather happy one. Little angst or drama until the teenage years- and those barely count as the teenage construct is an artificial one and unnatural in every way and hence one can’t be blamed for acting as a trapped rat in a laboratory, now can one?  My earliest memory was at two or three ( born 1965, so 67 or 68 ) when I left my breakfast to race down the street and ask a neighbor kid if he wanted to share my banana I was putting on my cereal of frosted flakes.   The rude bastard obviously gave an answer that upset me and there was societies first nail in the coffin of my hatred and discontent.  Next thing I knew I was five years old and we were living in the southern California desert way out of LA ( born in the city, moving from one small burg to the other [ the city was small enough then that I was born in the same hospital room as my mother had been ] until this one to the boonies ).  Leona Valley if anyone can find it on the map- something I haven’t even bothered doing.  This was a wonderful time other than being traumatized by a rattlesnake about twice as big as I was, a fear I’ve never managed to shake since.  This bastard was so big, or else my growth had been stunted from those corn flakes, I ran crying to Mom and begged her not to go outside where I knew the evil Lucifer serpent awaited her ( probably one of the few times I showed her a lot of concern- I was a rather self absorbed brat ).  But this was a time of full size GI Joe dolls and running about the countryside and even the fall from the jungle jim on to my head was all good since I got to go home early and watch Mr. Magoo cartoons.  Nowadays I probably would have been care-flighted to LA and given CAT scans.  Then things were a bit more formal. 

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As my dad was working for the state as a youth consoler,  we didn’t stay in one place much more than two years.  Next we moved up to the northern California coast at Fort Bragg ( the town, not the military base three thousand miles yonder ).  I remember a leaking septic tank and having to get a shot for that- and letting everyone know out in the waiting room how much that hurt with my caterwauling.  But I also remember a wonderful adventure just a block or two away when the foster kids built a fort-underground mind you.  And plentiful fresh seafood.  Yep, the state used to be so uncrowded a modest home was just off the beach and there was excess fish nearly given away.  This was also a time I kept stapling my thumb.  Don’t ask me why.  I kept getting an open stapler and putting a metal staple partially into my flesh.  Hey, I can’t control what memories survive.  Like the only TV I remember then was Mutual Of Omaha running animal shows and “Emergency”.  Next time, I’ll start at age ten in 1975 and we’ll go from there.

END
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middlin gear


MIDDLIN GEAR

Now, I know that for some of you- and you know who you are so please don’t embarrass yourself and others by denying it- that are frankly bored with the whole pointless existence of modern life, essentially doing little more than devoting all your efforts and treasury to other less worthies engaged in such endeavors such as siting all day on front porches drinking malt 40’s, or a boss reporting to the corporate suits that your work was all his idea and would that bonus check be in before the holidays?  And it does you little good to wish upon a star that you were back in a simpler time like when men were men and sheep were nervous and armed gladiators clashed for the rights of bedding fair maidens so that they weren’t very fair once you got done with them.  But if you lived back then you just would have been a flea bitten serf, so don’t go there.  I mean, sure, you’re a serf NOW.  But there is much better sanitation and even if you have to work fifty hours a week and commute ten and must give the wife seventy percent of your pay and Uncle Obamy the other thirty, hey, at least you get to watch seventeen all sports channels all weekend long.  And yet, as great as those sports channel sound, you still dream of arming yourself with plastic carbines with attached red dot sites and cool front guard vertical grip and built in compass and clashing in gladiator combat to win the hand of maidens a little past their prime and definitely in need of a bath before you despoil them.

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Too bad you don’t have any disposable income left from being a debt serf.  You keep hinting that for Christmas all you want is an AK with folding stock, but there never seems to be enough extra left over for that and so you get a scarf instead, and while you suspect that the wife just got a boob job and is getting an awful lot of deliveries from the same UPS guy, you can’t really confirm this since you never get to touch them anymore and yet this seems to be where your cool semi-auto acquisition fund went to.  As I keep telling you, you need to downsize your expectations.  You don’t need the best two grand AR platform in 308, nor do you have to settle on a $150 Russian bolt rifle built by the Czar and then used by five different proto-communist countries after that most of which involved jungles and rust combated only by liberal amounts of coconut oil.  Sure, if desperate and in a hurry and facing prospects of never earning much ever again, go low ( then upgrade if time permits ).  But there is nothing wrong with middlin quality.  It might not be the best, but it ain’t crap churned out at factories even the Chinese peasants fresh off the turnip field wouldn’t buy from. 

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As I keep whining about, every time I buy from one of the China-Marts, I get screwed.  Abysmal quality ( and oh I’m sure it coincidentally starting about when the economy took a bit squishy- but not to worry, green shoots!!! ).  Wal-Mart is especially bad, even with name brands.  K-Mart is not quite as bad.  A Wally pair of slacks might last four months, the K-Mart ones go six to eight before they rip at the seams.  I loved my $15 K-Mart boots, so much more comfortable than Wal-Marts and they did last twice as long but still only six months.  Those were the last pair of shoes I bought cheap.  I went ahead and ordered  a pair of GI style Rothco boots from Amazon.  $55 with free shipping.  You had to immediately replace the laces, but great otherwise-real dead cow skin.  It took half a day to break in and while I need to wait to see how long they last it’s looking promising.  For slacks I ordered Dickies from Amazon.  Spend twice as much, and get four times the use.  It ain’t top of the line, and doesn’t cost it.  Middlin.

END
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Wednesday, May 28, 2014

cause and effect


CAUSE AND EFFECT

Once again I weep at the fragile efforts of my fellow blog writers, trapped in repeating endlessly the myths and ancient ponderings of those they blindly follow.  I’ve run into several articles recently on The Reason The Collapse Is Just Around The Corner And I Implore Thee In The Name Of Baby Jesus To Buy Through My Advertisers And Prepare Right Friggin Now.  Now, there is absolutely no reason to disregard this, because as I’ve snarled and got lippy about before, you need to act like the collapse was going to happen yesterday, not tomorrow.  Just like prepping during the Cold War assumed the evil commie bastards ( kill a commie for mommy! ) could launch immediately and there was zero time to prep, so too  today you never know just when the economy is going to go off the rails and your paycheck dries up and the sheriffs deputies evict you at 3 am with a SWAT team  and you have zero time to prep ( and this is the best that can happen in the future ).  No, what I have a problem with as far as these articles go is the sloppy thinking.  They take symptoms of the collapse and use it as a reason the collapse is going to happen.  There is an implied escape clause there, as if we could all just join hands and forgive each other for being an asshat, the collapse would never occur.  Sloppy thinking leads to sloppy assumptions and those lead to death or being in the stewpot.

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You know the lists I’m talking about.  We have moved away from God.  We have abandoned the traditional family unit.  We have become unmindful of our neighbors.  These are the causes of resource depletion and over-population.  In times of plenty everyone acts like sunshine pours out of their fellow man’s ass, but in times of scarcity it is every man for himself.  This is human nature.  It is hardwired.  You can’t change it even if everyone suddenly started going to church.  Hell, that would make it worse as the mobs were given permission to smite each other.  The fact that traditional values have been abandoned is proof positive we are in a collapse.  Use this as validation to act accordingly.  Which mainly means, as our wise old Uncle Remus says, getting the hell away from crowds.  I’d add it means giving up the traditional values you hold dear but others use as an excuse to screw you.  Such as helping out family when all they are doing is humping you ( yes, I’m guilty ).  Or believing in the sanctity of marriage as your spouse just uses you.  I’m not saying act as poorly as all the rest, you just need to act LIKE them even if you don’t act AS BADLY.  You don’t have to give up living honorably,  you just need to stop treating some people that way.  Not everyone deserves your efforts.  Just food for thought.

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memorial day


MEMORIAL DAY
Okay, I’m glad THAT’S over.  Don’t get me wrong, I do honor our fallen and it doesn’t bother me that it was for an imperial cause.  Just as police officers are mostly state oppression yet still serve a noble peace keeping mission, so to the military is about protecting the civilians even if the federal government has usurped them for largely nothing more than invasion, occupation and tribute extraction.  I can see the good even through the mostly bad.  It isn’t the individuals fault the way the military was corrupted ( of course, to be intellectually honest, you have to admit that without the way the corruption is protected all those in the military wouldn’t see anywhere near the pay or benefits or even a retirement.  Don’t scream “freedom and small government” when your paycheck depends on the exact opposite ).  So, yes, you honor the individuals even if they were misused by our fascist global occupation.  Especially, I would imagine, since usually the government throws away so many otherwise promising lives for its own evil purposes, viewing living beings as nothing more than machine cogs to be ground through.  I honor those that sacrificed for their country, not because what they did for me ( which seems to be the underlying message you get these days- they kept you free.   Sure, douche, it’s all about you, isn’t it? ) but because of the ideal they upheld.

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What I DON’T honor are those that died in public service.  This year, there are idiots pushing for us to honor the fallen 9/11 firefighters on Memorial Day.  I simply could not believe it.  Memorial Day is for the military fallen.  Not every swinging dingus out there that is remotely connected to helping us enjoy our Freedom Fries.  I respect the hell out of firefighters, far more than the police ( sorry, LEO brothers ).  Their purpose is strictly good without any corruption or usurpation by outside forces.  They do put their lives at risk, every day.  For their community.  Not for their country.  It is one thing to risk your life for the neighborhood you live in, your pseudo-tribe.  It is altogether another to risk your life for some asshat you don’t know or like two thousand miles away.  Not trying to denigrate their efforts locally, but there is a direct correlation between their actions and a reward feedback.  They give to the community and it gives back.  There is no such reward serving in the military.  Only indirectly and then it is a far future reward.  Locals sacrifice immediately benefits, long distance sacrifice might not benefit you or yours for generations, if ever. 

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And then there is the slippery slope.  Once you add firefighters, it naturally follows that cops are added to the honor roll.  Even the ones who breach doors at 3pm and kill families.  Even the ones severing at the federal level, the crotch gropers at the airport and the snipers taking out mothers holding babies.  Then slimy politicians are added.  Then county welfare workers who break up families.  Where does it end? 

END
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Tuesday, May 27, 2014

city slicker 2

CITY SLICKER 2

As one who has four complete marriages under his belt, let me share a bit of wisdom with you. Bitches WILL screw you. I know you have all been raised to believe in true love and forever marriages and perhaps even had a religious belief that God only likes those who stick it out until early graves ( from the stress ). And I don’t disagree with the logic. With the ideal. What I’m telling you is that in today’s civilization collapse reality, it is pretty much every swinging dingus for himself. The spouse that you sacrificed everything for will turn on you the moment it is advantageous for them. I know that sucks. None of us want to believe it. Hell, I know better and I still gave the last one a few extra years, just to make sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that our relationship wasn’t going to work ( hint, when sex starts to repulse them, there is no saving the relationship. And, hell, I might not be all that talented, but I do wear size 11 shoes ). But you had better believe. Leave the bitch, pay the separation price. It is the only way to survive. If you don’t screw them, they will eventually screw you. Now RUN, move out of the city as quick as you can.

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Taking a pay-cut isn’t all that bad. As long as you do things right like living in a trailer on land that has low payments and start building a house yourself, and sticking with a local prestige job even if the pay is much lower ( bitches want status more than money or security. One of these days I’m going to explore the evolutionary origins of this ). You will attract a new and better wife. Of course, she might end up screwing you too, but we have to keep trying. There are just as many potential mates in the country as there are in the city. The competition is the same no matter where you go ( unless you go to a bad area like Alaska without enough women, or a boom town where they all turn gold-digger and even the ugly stupid ones are having Princess Barbie delusions of grandeur and are holding out unnecessarily ). Your mating prospects, and your cost-of-living ratio to income are pretty much the same both in the small towns and the huge mega-urban sprawl zones. Do yourself a favor and escape the death traps. There is only illusion making it appear the big city is better. And if you think about it, who benefits from you living in the rat mazes? Your rulers, who love the competition for rent and the competition for jobs and the crime rate necessitating harsh edicts the masses must adhere to “for the good of society”. You do not benefit from city living, just all the parasites getting fat off your efforts. I thought you all were smarter than that, given the reading material you select.

END

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city slicker survivalist

CITY SLICKER SURVIVALIST

If you’ll remember my passing comment on John Ringo’s first in a series on zombie-apocalypse books, it was a glorious science fiction action novel but had about zero post-apocalypse appeal. It could easily been an Alien Invasion genre. Now, when I first read it, the first chapter or two had a comment that stuck in my mind and was burrowing in like a parasitic spore. So I went back to re-read it and planned an article on it so as to purge it from my system. As the dad of the survivalism family was going about his business of day-to-day work, he gets a text from his brother that, in code, proclaimed a zombie apocalypse had erupted and immediate evasive action was required ( all the characters are either ex-special forces or high muckimucks in positions of power- you know, like the rest of us are so we can easily relate ). As he is scooping his daughter out of school is about the only part of the book survivalism related ( the rest strictly shoot-em-up ). Dad is reflecting on where they live, suburbia. In his mind, all those silly willies who move out to the boonies to their retreats are, well, to be chartable, just not right! Why, only here can you attain a decent income!

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This harkens back to an interview with Jerry Pournelle, one of the co-authors of the best post-apocalypse novels of all time, Lucifer’s Hammer. He proclaimed his choice of domicile, Los Angeles, justified on the grounds of culture. Why, the provincials can’t live a decent life without museums and other high brow attractions such as opera! Now, I can relate to, say, a fellow fifteen years into a civil servant position gambling on staying in the city. With a pension ( just five more years! ), you can move anywhere, no nearby job required. It is worth taking the chance because if he makes it he gets to a much safer area. One unlikely to fill up due to the economy in the crapper. But to tie your wagon to high incomes or high brow doesn’t really justify the risk, does it? Because you have no plans to leave. It is just an excuse. The high income might justify the retreat, but it rarely leads to actually moving ( I’m speaking of the majority ). Because the income is both addicting, but it also usually attracts the kind of mate who will NEVER move with you. You are lucky if you get to buy the high income status symbols like the plastic carbines. So, my question becomes, why are you bothering? If I lived amidst a few million people with only a few roads leading away from them, no amount of freeze dried foods or souped up rimfires would allow me to sleep all that well at nights. I look back at my days living amongst the savage urban masses and smile at the thought I ever believed I had a snowflakes chance in hell of surviving.

END

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Monday, May 26, 2014

more panic shopping


MORE PANIC SHOPPING

Well, I had a nice long article already written up yesterday I was going to post as today’s second post but the thing kind of bite me in the ass.  I had written about how wonderful epoxy was and how I improved a belt knife and then the damn thing came undone on me hours after the maximum curing time and the whole concept went into the toilet.  Now, I know I told you that you only get one article on holidays, but my radiant hair and my giving nature compelled me to include the second one.  It was going to be epoxy, but now you just get a quick update on my fevered panic buying.  I always have 101 reasons why I’m in a panic stockpiling as quickly as possible.  This time, besides possible impending unemployment ( I heard rumors of thrift store sales down almost as bad as Wal-Mart, and that’s bad ), I’m getting tired of every swinging dingus out there jacking me on price just so they can continue paying their mortgage and the SUV payment and buying skittles and crack.  Why is it my fault you are a moron, a douche and a rectal sniffer?  Six months ago I was looking for a Mk9no1 Enfield bayonet ( the knife one rather than the tent stake ) and they were going for thirty to fifty bucks.  Today, the few that are left, $100!!!!  They can all kiss my ass.  I went to


and bought four of the mk2’s for $12 each ( two years ago, Shotgun News ad price $9- I can live with that increase ).  Okay, they’re only good for sticking rather than cutting.  I know they are inferior.  But I figure sooner rather than later, everyone else will conclude as I have that they are the only bayonets left and jack up the price on those, too.  I already have one spike and one knife bayonet, but that isn’t enough for four rifles, now is it?  And I bought four more to get free shipping.  Also, for those that agreed with me about panicking on the Russian surplus 762x54r, I see Sportsman’s Guide is out of stock on them.  Good call.  Good minions!  Biscuits for you.

END
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more stupid wheat tricks

MORE STUPID WHEAT TRICKS

According to John Hill in “How To Live On Wheat”, flour has close enough to the same weight and calorie content as freeze dried foods, at considerably less cost. Like, fifty cents verses five dollars. And if you recall your misspent youth in Uncle Sam’s legions, even a putrid can of C-rats tastes better while “camping”. If wheat creations taste good now, imagine their appeal while in the great outdoors. Lawrence Of Arabia recalled his weeks long treks living on nothing but a sack of flour each rider carried. Mr. Hill recounts his trips making stick bread, long rolled out dough shaped like breadsticks wrapped around the end of a stick and roasted like hot dogs or marshmallows ( some practice is required to cook thoroughly ), as being greedily gobbled even half raw with seconds requested. And, he mentions the old natives routinely using wood ashes as a substitute for baking soda or baking powder. Obviously, don’t use anything containing any modern materials like newspaper or cardboard because of the chemicals. Take fresh ashes, sift out any clumps and there you have it.

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To make that old Biblical bread, essene bread, the chewy sprouted bread, first sprout your wheat. Grind into a paste, the best tool for sprouted kernels a meat grinder set on fine. Wet your hands as this will stick like white on rice, and shape into thin rounds. Bake on an oiled cookie sheet for about two hours on 200 degrees, or use a solar oven. When you press in on the bottom and it springs back, it is done. One another note, beware a strict bean and grain diet as being deficient in calcium. Use a supplement, but when those run out green leafy veggies are required. Baring those, at the very least the diatomaceous earth you used to store your wheat does contain trace amounts of calcium.

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Last up from the above mentioned book, raw bean danger. In the past I’ve passed on a very handy tip from the folks over at Emergency Essentials ( who I love and recommend ). For old beans that won’t cook up properly ( old beans refuse to get soft, even with long soaking and cooking times ) you just ground up the beans in your grinder and then added boiling hot water to create a paste, just like bean dip. Well, now I’m finding out that undercooked ( and especially raw flour ) beans are dangerous. They are nutritiously deficient without proper cooking as certain enzyme inhibitors ( if the legume is consumed by an animal in the wild it passes whole through a digestive system and lands ready to grow- a survival trait ) exist. You MUST apply heat to deactivate this, OR sprout the bean. Sometimes just baking the bean flour in a wheat bread won’t supply enough heat. So, by reasoning, just a shot of hot water in making a paste most likely won’t cut the mustard. So, either sprout the bean first before prepping or if that doesn’t work you need to grind up the beans and then roast the flour, THEN prepare however you wish. A further heads up for those of you enamored with soy, as a lot of that is processed with economics rather than nutrition in mind.

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Sunday, May 25, 2014

sweet wheat


SWEET WHEAT

You can act like you are today’s equivalent to an ancient Greek philosopher, shunning all television viewing in favor of deep navel gazing and other pursuits of bettering oneself.   Me, I’ll gladly tell the karate instructor to shove it up his rectum and just go watch a new episode of “Family Guy”.  I have no problem with Low Brow.  I don’t pretend I’m going to train myself into a Super Ninja Survivalist Princess.  In the same vein, you can pretend that your body is a temple and you only drink coconut juice and range fed beef.  I’m going to eat mostly healthy, take a vitamin pill to make up for all the green salads I’m not eating, and eat as much sugar as I please.  The more exercise you get, the less sweets your body actually craves.  I don’t worry, because I balance and try to achieve all things in moderation.  I say, stock the heck out of sugar for doomsday eating.  All that damn wheat you are chocking down, a bit of sugar ain’t gonna hurt all that much.  But what do you do when that runs out?  I don’t stock all that much not because it is bad for you or because of the cost but because I’m seriously running out of storage room ( and that is after burying ).  The answer is malt.  Malt is butt simple.  Take your wheat and sprout it.  Dry your sprouts ( DON’T dry sprouts to preserve them as vitamins.  You need to eat fresh to get that benefit ).  Take the dried spouts ( you are using the whole piece, not just the green part poking out of the kernel ) and fine grind them.  This is malt, your natural sweetener.  Use one quarter teaspoon per loaf of bread.

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Saturday, May 24, 2014

wheat rice


WHEAT RICE

For taste variety,  or just in case a vicious thief snuck into your abode and for some inexplicable reason didn’t steal anything except for your grain grinder and NO other kitchen utensils, yet another way to prepare wheat is to cook it up like rice.  Now, I’m sure there is some low tech way reaching back to antiquity on how to do this, but I have the recipe for it using a pressure cooker.  This and other wheat details you are/will/have been reading are from the book “How To Live On Wheat” by John Hill.  This is one of those books that I don’t know why I ordered, I think it was relatively cheap and I was filling up my weekly book budget with another more expensive one,  and at first I thought I really didn’t need it because I had so many other sources on the same subject, and yet once I read it I fell in love with it and cursed the Gods I hadn’t gotten it so much sooner.  Anyway, pour in X amount of wheat, say one inch from the bottom of your cooker.  Then add in an equal amount of water ( in this case, one inch of water ).  Start the fire, and wait until the ball starts it jiggle.  Take it off the flame and set aside.  Let cool and de-pressurize.  Don’t rush it, it is still cooking.  Once de-pressurized, your wheat is now done up just like cooked rice.  It will be nuttier and much chewier.  But it is variety and it ISN’T rice.  Also, yet another way to eat wheat without a grinder is to simply sprout it.  You can then eat directly without any further preparation.  I’m not sure how it would taste, but it sure would be nutritious. 

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Friday, May 23, 2014

parched wheat


PARCHED WHEAT

I don’t know about you, but I have little desire to eat nothing but boiled wheat gruel in the event I don’t have a grain grinder.  I have several grain grinders as back-up, but one never knows what might happen.  Best just to have a back-up plan for the back-up plan, and after that probably it isn’t a bad idea to figure some jackass sonofabitch rectal licking monkey testicle gargling no-account is going to come along and screw up THAT back-up as well.  But of course I digress.  Your back-up plan for when you have no grinder would first be your all purpose stainless steel vacuum widemouth thermos.  Not only does this bad boy make your coffee and cook your potatoes after a mere five minutes on boil ( then slow cook in the thermos for several hours ), you can also do the same with your wheat.  I’m not sure if it was a fluke, but once when I left the taters too long, as if I was leaving for work, they smelled a bit off.  Experiment with overnight or all during working hours, see what happens.  Then, the back-up plan to that plan is to parch wheat.  Heat your iron skillet to Very Hot ( just as you would for your flat bread ) and toss in a half cup of wheat kernels.  It will pop, just not quite like popcorn because the moisture content is much lower.  This is parched wheat, just like parched corn is the snack Corn Nuts.  You can eat parched wheat without needing a grinder.  If you DID have a grinder and ground your parched wheat you would have a trail food you could just add the powder to water and chug.  No fire, no waiting.  That and jerky would keep you going until scurvy killed you ( boil pine needles for a vitamin C tea ).

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outlaws update part 2


OUTLAW UPDATE PART 2

And when I say the outlaws have absolutely no concept of how to plan for the future, I’m not just exaggerating to be funny.  For instance, you know you need propane to cook with every day ( I won’t even get into the fiasco with the heating propane ).  It is a given.  You need X amount of coffee perked up and Y amount of meals to be cooked and it uses Z amount of propane.  The answer is, How Many Propane Bottles Do I Need To Buy When My Obammy Check Come In The First Of The Month.  Not for these morons.  The answer to them seems to be, Why Are We Out Of Fuel Again?  Which I know is a question rather than an answer, but that is how convoluted the outlaws are.  Oh, gee, we are out of cigarettes again.  Ya Think?  How could that have happened?  Ahhh, duh, we are out of diapers again.  The Humanity!  Who would of thunk it?  They run out of Food Stamps THE FIRST FRIGGIN WEEK OF THE MONTH!!!!! Now, the simple answer is these evolutionary dead ends are either smoking crack or gambling it all away.  Or both.  A little bit is that the step daughter really just takes after her mother.  Both refuse to acknowledge the future ( “you can’t enjoy today if you are worrying about tomorrow” ).  This might just be genetic.  But there is vital difference.  Mom let me take care of the future ( although her indifference to it was the reason we broke up ).  Daughter is such an ex-wife clone, living a life of total perceived independence of men ( while happily suckling off the government teet ) that she only attracts the kind of meek castrated male that follows her every dictate.  She doesn’t get anyone to help her because she refuses to believe she is ever wrong about anything.  Both are firmly stuck in the present.

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Now, this is actually going somewhere.  My point is that this kind of lifestyle involves nothing other than perpetual crisis, a lurching between extra rapid consumed luxuries followed by prolonged shortages of essentials.  They were living this way on grid.  The rent doesn’t get paid, so they are homeless.  The diapers run out so there is a six hour convoluted bus trip to shelters and food banks and churches to get a few as the children leek of day old urine.  The electricity gets turned off.  The kids go without eating a day at a time while mom sees who she can scam out of money while playing “the kid card”.  Which then PARTIALLY goes to food but is otherwise wasted and the cycle starts anew.  They are living the exact same lifestyle here off grid.  All the lights are left on during overcast, no thought given to discharging the battery.  Nothing is pre-bought while visiting town so sometimes there are three trips, wearing out the car and using more gasoline.  They don’t take water bottles every trip, letting it get to the point of running out and requiring yet another trip into town.  Instead of investing in a large tank hose for propane, they keep using disposable bottles.  They cant grasp that a one time expense of $30 saves ten bucks a month, forever. 

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Any moron can move into your home off grid.  They will then consume YEARS worth of investments in weeks for no good reason other than ignorance and laziness.  Beware your outlaws.  To them, no matter how much they pretend to hate the idea of composting toilets or wood stoves or no TV, you are just another source of free everything.

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Thursday, May 22, 2014

outlaws update


OUTLAWS UPDATE

I always listen to my minions.  And when one of you requests an article, I try to write it up ( as long as it falls within my bailiwick ).  Of course, I have to postpone said request so as to not appear cheap and easy ( oh, wait… ).  So here it is, finally- the update to my particularly putrid pride of parasites, the inlaws suckling off both my hard work and my very soul. How are city slickers adjusting to life out off the grid?  Well, short answer is that they are settling in just fine with nary a ruffled feather.  But for all you thinking this will translate over to your family moving to the homestead, not so fast.  The devil is in the details ( he also takes the hindmost, but that’s another tale ), so wait for the long story.

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First, pertaining to the tale, what actually motivated me to write this up other than a desire to curry reader favor.  The other day, the thrift store driver came tearing through the food bank, in an uproar.  “If anyone donates a brain, I need a few over next door” or words to that effect.  I thought nothing of it, just more stress over the supreme dumbassness of the volunteers ( we don’t just get little old ladies filling in their day and trying to bribe Baby Jesus for admittance,  we have a lot of ne’er-do-wells hanging about pretending to be busy so we grant them services ).  He elaborated the next day, a pretty funny story.  Some of the guys had some meat and wanted to have a BBQ ( ingrates didn’t invite me ).  I don’t know why.  Celebrating unemployment?  Anyway, after getting permission they got a grill and cooked up a feast.  The only problem was, they had two gas grills and no gas tanks.  So they just poured charcoal into one of the gas grills and improvised.  The next problem was, they didn’t use the banged up old plain Jane grill that was destined for the steel recycler.  No, that would have been too smart.  They took a brand new looking donated stainless steel all the bells and whistles grill that the thrift store could have sold for a pretty penny and screwed it up to use charcoal for one meal.  The money from the thrift store goes to pay expenses to provide food, showers and laundry to these guys.

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This kind of thinking is totally alien to me.  I simply am confounded by it.  How can people have zero future orientation and still survive?  Or, am I the bizarre one, stuck firmly in the future most of my life?  Perhaps NO future awareness is still a survival skill.  Like, if you only live for the moment you can get through a crisis easier, not stopping to over-analyze long term consequences?  I frankly have zero clue.  It took me decades to kinda sorta figure out females ( according to one anthropologist, there are similarities with like genders across   all cultures, but the differences between genders in the same culture are enormous- which makes me feel better because dealing with an alien species means I’m not as dumb as I thought ) and I don’t know if I have that kind of time left to figure out how people can act like such morons and get away with it.  And the outlaws?  That is them, fit to a T.  They have NOOOOO concept of five minutes into the future.  Next article continues the fun and games with the clueless outlaws.

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less water & fuel


LESS WATER & FUEL

I know that you are all looking at each other and making faces, wondering what the hell this bison guy is talking about.  Use less fuel and water?  Why, the very notion is un-American and certainly unpatriotic, perhaps even enough that you want to call your duly selected CongressCritter and suggest that possibly he might want to exercise his lawful rights ( might does after all make right ) and have this cat “disappeared” on his way to the airport reroute to Uncle Obammy’s tropical paradise island.  Why, if we are given by Baby Jesus himself the imperative to drive SUV’s and shoot plastic guns with large banana clips, surely we can waste a few hundred gallons a day showering and flushing a few capfuls of urine.  If this idea caught on, entire swaths of the economy and local government would perish.  I trust I’ve been sarcastic enough?  One of these days, Alice, you are going to see sky high electric and gas bills, if not shortages, and even if you don’t see much higher water bills due to drought, the local municipalities WILL jack up your cost so they can balance their budgets precariously unstable due to past mayors retiring with 200% pensions after four years of “service”. 

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In the last ten years I’ve had fewer conventional showers than fingers on my hands.  I smell like a field of roses ( until you get too close to my ass ) and I don’t have strange and bizarre skin diseases.  I was listening to the radio last week and on one of the YakFests there was a piece on a doctor talking about daily showers.   According to him, as long as you wash your crotch and butt every day, there is no need to shower every single day.  This backs up my step-mothers practice ( she was a nurse for forty years ), started when she had serious injuries to her entire arm and side, if you recall my telling you when she got lippy with a local deputy while drunk and he face planted her, and couldn’t have pounding water on her.  Wash the crotch/ass daily ( I wash my head daily, but only because I have an oily top ), and every other day just use a washcloth and hot water everywhere else ( the cloth wet enough to drip water is better than it rung out too much ).  Some folks will need the feet washed daily with soap, others armpits.  It is going to vary.  You just experiment, go after whatever itches or smells.  I do a whole body soap twice a week, the remaining just hot water wipes ( except as noted above ).  I find the huge washcloths, almost a small towel, are much better than the regular sizes.  Between skipping several days of full body soap and now using an electric razor half the time ( I don’t care for them-they are expensive and inefficient.  But now I’m clean shaven every day instead of half the week ) I’m hauling about half the water I used to.  Keeping sparkly clean doesn’t require tons of hot water.

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