the long dusk - part 9

April 1, 2028 - Manatee Springs, Florida

Lee and his followers have integrated well with us here. We had to send more people back to Palatka to retrieve all the guns, ammo, and reloading supplies and tools. We've been collecting our spent brass in anticipation of being able to reload it. It has greatly boosted our morale and confidence. Lord Humungous is eager to make war on someone with our newfound advantage. I have cautioned against that, as the longer we wait, the less ammo our would-be enemies will have. They will exhaust their precious stockpiles on frivolous squabbles and be forced to use bows and arrows, or even slings and spears. Instead, I suggested we build an alliance with our immediate neighbors. We already are making each other prosperous through trade. Perhaps we can raise a coalition army and march on some more distant foe. We can't risk all of our men at once. A large portion need to stay behind to work and protect our settlement.

Lee has some technicians among his men. They managed to get power from the solar farm to the pumps that fill the water towers. Chiefland has running water again, and many of our people have moved from the spring into the town's abandoned houses. I'd prefer that we dig wells as a more lasting solution, but this will do for now. Lee himself does not share the Lord's enthusiasm for war. It seems he's had his fill of it, though he is intrigued by our system of slavery. I suspect someday he will want to go out on raids to capture more. The Lord, Lee, and I agree that sooner or later, some group led by a warlord will succeed in conquering all of Florida, and that process will continue with regional warlords in other parts of the country until the country is unified again under a single government. That will take years though, and our main challenge now is building up our numbers. We're still at least 17 years away from having a new generation of soldiers. 

We mulled the idea of conquering Gainesville or Ocala or both, not just for slaves and land, but to capture women. I find a lot of the war talk repulsive as there have already been so many deaths, civilization has been all but wiped out, and our species itself is hanging by thread. There was a science fiction story I read once where a comet hit the earth, bounced off, and took with it a group of soldiers and explorers from different countries. Instead cooperating to survive in their new hostile environment, they carve out territories and plot conquering each other. It must be human nature to do such things, though people do often cooperate rather than fight in some truly dire circumstances. Our social cohesion is strong despite great religious diversity and minor racial diversity. I've mentioned to the senior leaders that our situation is like that of the Founding Fathers [the men who established the United States]. It is within our power to remake the world.

It is warmer than the same time last year, and there are more signs that nature is healing. At night, the crickets chirp and there are scattered bunches of fireflies. The owls hoot and the bats fly out at sunset to feast on insects. One of my hopes for the future is that we will try harder to work with nature rather than fight it and try to bend it to our will. The mosquitoes have returned, but not in great numbers fortunately. We've scavenged bug repellent, but in the long run, we will either have to move away from where the mosquitoes live or sleep under mosquito nets. None of those are readily available, so we would have to improvise and make our own. I've advised people to make note of wherever they see standing water so we can drain it or fill in the hole. Florida was sparsely populated because of mosquitoes and heat all the way up to the early 20th century.  

I've given a lot of thought to our economic system and its future. Barter is still prevalent and is the main form of exchange, but cash is being used here and there. We don't have any taxes, and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible. We also don't have any banks, but at this point, we don't need them. Banking will probably be one of the last aspects of the old order to return. Historically, governments used taxes to pay soldiers, but in our case, the promise of loot, slaves, and women is more than enough to motivate men to fight. That was the case in ancient and medieval times as well. I'd prefer not to have a standing army. It's all too easy for some ambitious general to use professional soldiers to seize power for himself and usurp the government that hired him. So for the time being, we have no official military. The winnowing process of the collapse has turned just about every male over the age of 15 into a soldier of some kind. Warrior is a better word as our battles have been of a prehistoric character.

Once I read a quote from a 19th century tribal chief. He said that before the white man came to this continent, there were no taxes, no laws, men spent their time hunting and fishing, and women did all the work. And the white man thought he could improve this situation? I'm inclined to agree with the chief. Industrial civilization was prosperous, but it was fragile. That's why it broke and won't be back for a long time, if it ever comes back. We'll just have to get used to having a primitive lifestyle. The work we have keeps everyone busy enough, but not too busy. In the evenings, there are dances, feasts, singing, and rituals. Every man is in some sort of newly concocted brotherhood with secret handshakes and passwords. The bamboo staff has become a unifying symbol and most men own one. More were harvested from the bamboo groves of the Kanapaha garden in Gainesville where I got mine years ago.  

May 1, 2028 - Manatee Springs, Florida 

It occurred to me the other day that some nuclear weapons may have been stolen during the collapse. If so, what came of those loose nukes? Who has them, and what do they plan? Wheels within wheels. With enough ifs you could put the moon in a bottle. I put the question out of mind for the time being. 

I have had more conversations with Lee. I've done my best to reassure him that he and his people will be safe here. The goal is to rebuild and remake this land like it was in the Before Time. At least, the way it was in terms of it being safe and there being enough to eat. The sky is not so gray, and the weather is a bit warmer than it was this time last year. The earth is healing from the volcanic shock, just as it did after the asteroid impact that killed the dinosaurs. I wonder how many species have gone extinct this time. I feel lucky that I was able to see the majestic wildlife of North America and Africa up close as a young man. I was also lucky to see the wildlife of so many different places in zoos and aquariums. I dream of a world with new zoos, aquariums, and wildlife parks. Yes, we need farms, but wild, untamed nature has a grandeur that cannot be replaced by technology.

Lee has made it clear that he sees the future as for whites and them only. I told him there are many kinds of white people, and it is impossible to unite them under a single government. The best that can be done is for each white tribe to carve out its own living space. This is what happened in Europe for centuries. Lee countered that the Romans conquered most of Europe through force of arms, and the Russians, French, Spanish, and British carved out gigantic empires in a similar way on the basis of white supremacy. Even the United States was a kind of empire forged on the basis of white supremacy. Lee says white people are the rightful heirs of the world. They are most intelligent and the best at warfare and administration. He said there have been other non-white empires in Asia and the Middle East, but they either collapsed or were conquered by whites. Thus, he said, whites are the master race.

I told him that in nature, there are no master races. Species and varieties survive and spread on the basis of geography. There were no permanent white settlements in Africa until mosquito nets and malaria medicines were invented. Liberia was nicknamed the white man's grave because so many Europeans died there in the 19th century. I said all the people of world must make agreements to share the land. Good fences make good neighbors. He was happy when I told him I did not believe the human race would mix until it was all the same color. In nature, every creature is adapted to a certain role. Perhaps white people are adapted to a role where they are small in number, but rule over many. In the Before Time, whites were 10% of the world's population. Lee said that in the year 1900, whites were 30% of the world's population. What happened? Clearly, something went wrong, he said.

My response is that foolish white governments, out of guilt, spent vast sums of money giving food and medicine to Africa, which caused its population to explode. Given what's happened here, there are probably very few people left alive in Africa. It was sad, but not surprising to see that Lee was pleased by my assessment that black people were on the verge of extinction. Then let's finish them off, he said. I told him there were some black people in our tribe. They were good; they strengthened us. And anyway, the proper Christian thing to do was to treat them fairly. He was skeptical of my Christian beliefs. I said that that I saw Christianity as a beautiful, inspiring religion that encourages the best in people. Even the non-religious follow a moral code that is based on Christianity. I believe strongly in freedom of religion, but even that idea comes from Christianity. 

We agreed that god is on the side of whoever has more guns. The strong do what they want, and the weak suffer what they must. Might makes right, at least in practice. But should it be that way? Regardless, I thanked him again for bringing his people to join us. There will be more battles, and the guns, ammo, and supplies he brought will make our tribe victorious. He said he is glad to have joined a white majority tribe led by whites. I suspect similar things have been said in the other racial tribes that have formed. Prison gangs in the Before Time were based on race. Skin color becomes a uniform in hard times. There have already been race wars, and I myself fought in a skirmish during one of them. The United States functioned well when it was 88% white. Once that number started to drop, it became hard to keep things together. The immigrants from the different countries of Europe married and interbred easily. My ancestors did. But with Africans, Asians, and so on, there is no melting pot, just Balkanization [a term referring to the breakup of a European country along ethnic and religious lines]. 

 

A dictator can herd cats and even make them dance, but a dictator must sit on a throne of bayonets, and no one can do that forever. It's far better to make and keep a country based on a common language and philosophy. That's what the founders did. I told Lee that today, we are the new founders. This country will have a rebirth. It is within our power to remake the world, and we will purge the past mistakes and evil in order to make government that is by the people and for the people. Blessed be the new founding fathers, and blessed be America, a nation reborn!

 

The Purge - Announcement HD

Things to See and Do at Kanapaha Botanical Gardens in Gainesville, Florida

the long dusk - part 8

Preface

The is history my father wrote of the great famine as he experienced it and recorded in his diary. Here and there, he makes references to things from the Before Time which may not make sense to today's readers. In these instances, I have added my own explanatory notes in [ ]. 

February 1, 2028 (?) - Cedar Key, Florida

I'm not sure what the date is, though I've tried to keep track of it. Keeping track of time used to be someone else's problem. Now, we must do the hard work ourselves by watching the sun, moon, and stars. At least we already know how long a year is, and that the seasons will come and go. The telescopes we scavenged from Chiefland Astronomy Village also help our lookouts see people coming from far away, at least during the day. A few have made their way into the hands of the fishermen here in Cedar Key. Following the whales is a good way to find fish. The other day, a messenger arrived. He greeted me on behalf of his master, Lord Humungous, who requested an audience with me back at Manatee Springs. I sensed danger, and gathered some of my whaling and shark hunter comrades to accompany me. They would be better off here gathering food for our tribe, and it pains me to pry them from their vital work.

We rode bikes the 30 or so miles to Manatee Springs. The terrain is mostly flat, and roads are still good, so it was easy going. When we reached the spring, I noticed a large new lodge had been built close to the abandoned snack bar I'd lived in. Outside it was the shrine of the gator skull. The artistry of the totem was tasteful and impressive. Anyone who saw it would recognize that it was a holy place. I bid my retainers to wait outside with their weapons at the ready as I saw armed guards milling about the lodge as we approached. If Lord Humungous had merely wished to talk with me, he could have sent a letter, or come to Cedar Key himself. Instead, he summoned me in order to put himself over me. Such games are tiresome and inevitable. All well and good, the whole village saw me arrive with my armed entourage. Word will spread that I did not take this insult lightly.

I entered the lodge without knocking. A man of my rank has certain privileges. Lord Humungous was seated on a throne of sorts. He spat out his drink when he saw me. I asked him to state his business. He rose from his throne, put his hand on my shoulder, smiled, and asked how I was. I said I'm getting by and pushed off his hand. He sighed returned to this throne. He said that we two are tribe's leaders and need to help each other. He explained that in the Before Time, he was a fireman. He was respected then, and he is respected now. The future of the tribe concerns him. In this brave new world, he said, strength and courage are the most important things. The Christians, the non-religious, and the nature-worshipping pagans lack the proper warrior spirit. He picked up the plastic Viking helmet I'd left behind, and said this is the symbol of the true path, for clashing of the swords is the song of the proud, and the path of fighting is the path of life. 

Almost as a reflex, I touched the wooden cross on my necklace. Blessed are the peacemakers, I said. He asked why I wear the cross if I don't really believe. I said that for me, the cross is a symbol that people can be good if they try. Man is often wolf to man, but it doesn't have to be that way, I said. I've already showed me and my men are better hunters than you, I added, and anyway, outsmarting animals is easy. People got to the top of the food chain back in the Stone Age. He asked what I want. I said that the main thing I want is a simple, peaceful life. He asked what I believe. I said we belong to the earth, and to it we must return. We should enjoy life and take only what we need from nature. Look at how our civilization with all its technology was smashed by the unthinking forces of nature. We built our house upon the sand, and the storm washed it away. We should build our next house on a rock, as the good book says.

He asked what rock is that. My short answer was tradition and experience. Warrior spirit, whatever that means, is useless if none of our tribe's kids survive past the age of five. He proposed a deal: that he stay on as the tribe's chief and I be the official shaman, his righthand man. I said that is acceptable, though I'll disagree with you here and there. He added that all that matters is that I do not contradict him in public. He took a puff from a pipe and offered it to me. The smoke had a skunky smell and a pleasing effect. He offered a handshake, and I joined it. With that, our rivalry ended, at least for the time being. I left the lodge and retrieved my plastic Viking helmet and bamboo staff from the snack bar. Yes, there will be more battles to fight, but the most important battle is the struggle of hope against despair. As I see it, my new job is to get people to do the right thing, even if it's for the wrong reason. After all, that's all religion ever has been.   

To my surprise and relief, Lord Humungous and his men produced a feast of fish, beef, goat, cheese, and potatoes, along with much homemade wine. We made merry under a cloudless, starlit sky. Later, Lord Humungous handed me a small notebook and said I should study it carefully. As I was immediately intrigued, I retired to the snack bar to read it by candlelight. It turned out that in my absence, Lord Humungous had sent scouts along all the main roads and explored a distance of about 100 miles to the north, south, and east. Their most interesting find was a small colony of heavily-armed survivalists near Palatka. My new mission was to make contact with them and persuade them to join our tribe, as their weapons and ammo would greatly strengthen us. The next morning, I gathered a crew and set out.     

March 1, 2028 - Palatka, Florida

We passed through Gainesville on the way to Palatka. The city showed more signs of life than when I first passed through. The many lakes around provide ample fresh water as well as fish, turtles, snakes, frogs, gators, and other edible creatures. Father Michael passed on, and his chosen successor has remade the city into a kind of an ecumenical Christian commune called Zion. They even rigged up bicycles to power electric generators, enabling a few hours of electricity when they are needed the most. Bud is now the second in command, and many shepherds guard his greatly expanded herd of sheep. We stopped here and there to rest and buy food, which was abundant. The main thing we were interest in, however, was any information about the survivalist compound we were headed for in Palatka. What we got was vague, contradictory, and unsettling. The best we could piece together was that the group was relatively small, heavily armed, and inclined toward militant white nationalism and the Lost Cause myth [a belief about the heroism of the losing side of a war to preserve slavery]. 

Nonetheless, we pressed on, and soon found ourselves on the outskirts of Palatka. The warning signs we passed were increasingly dire, and included skulls and shot up cars. Soon enough, the sound of a pump action shotgun being racked stopped us dead in our tracks. The lookout emerged from his hiding place with his weapon aimed straight at me. I put up my hands to show I was unarmed and posed to threat. Who the hell are you, he asked. I explained that we had come from afar to invite you to join our tribe, as we have plentiful food and water, as well as safety in numbers. I walked toward another member of our entourage a removed an arrow from his quiver. One or a few are weak, I said as I snapped it in half. I grabbed a handful of arrows and struggle to bend them, and said but many together are strong. Please, add your strength to ours, I said. The guard lowered his gun as if to think for a moment. He told us to wait where we were.

After some time, the guard returned with an older man, bedecked in a bandolier and holding a belt-fed machine gun. He introduced himself as Majestic Cyclops Buford Lee of the Latter-Day Ku Klux Klan. Well, at least he has self-esteem, I thought. I asked him to tell us about his struggle and the struggle of his people. We were led into an underground bunker hidden in thick brush. There was a room that was sort of like a miniature movie theater. We took seats and Lee turned off the lights to show us a film. I was surprised at the improvised device given the scarcity of electricity and the difficulty of rigging the whole setup. The film explained, in graphic detail and with real footage, the race war that had happened in this part of Florida. A small group of whites had banded together and fought off attacks from every direction, and eventually succeeded in driving their enemies from the area. Their goal was the establishment of a white ethno-state and the extermination or subjugation of anyone who got in their way.

It was the sort of situation that called for the utmost discretion in diplomacy. I began by inquiring about their arsenal and gunsmiths. They explained that their victory was due to their super firepower which included gear for reloading spent brass. That was something new and valuable. If we could reload spent brass, our combat power would increase many times. I asked how well they had been eating. They said they had an ample supply of MREs [meals ready to eat, military rations from the Before Time], but those were running low. They asked about our situation, and I described our farms, fishermen, and so on. As a cherry on top, I added that our village was about 90% white, and we had fought a successful war against an invasion by El Jefe. That really piqued his interest, especially the part where I told the story of how I personally killed the warlord and preserved his skull. 

Come with us, I told him, and see the skull for yourself. You and your people will be among friends for a change. Your skills will be appreciated, you will eat well, and you will be safe. What's more, together we will fight more battles, and we will win them thanks to the help of you and your people. At this, Lee's expression softened, and he offered a handshake. As I gripped his hand, I thought we had just made a new and dangerous ally. We knew the road was safe to travel, so Lee gathered his people, and we hit the road for the journey back to Manatee Springs. In my mind, I pondered how the newcomers would be received. Politics is all a matter of herding cats. If our tribe accepted slavery without much of a fuss, the arrival of these militant racists wouldn't cause much of a stir either. As a boy, much of the entertainment I saw portrayed the mixture of races as not just good, but inevitable, in spite of all the history to the contrary. 

My greatest fear was that Lee and his followers would insist on embarking on an unnecessary war. Still, we badly needed their weapons and ammo. I felt as though we had just made a deal with the devil. Time would tell whether we had made the right decision. Perhaps I could unify the tribe, including Lee and his followers, around a new heroic myth. I thought of the Apollo program that culminated in sending astronauts to the moon. Cape Canaveral was a long, hard journey, but the buildings there would prove that our former country had done great things in the name of scientific inquiry. It seemed to me that many Americans had worshipped technology while others worshipped nature. Perhaps there was a way to combine these ideas.

Chiefland Astronomy Village

Manatee Springs State Park | Crystal-Clear Florida Spring & Suwannee River

the long dusk - part 7

Preface

The is history my father wrote of the great famine as he experienced it and recorded in his diary. Here and there, he makes references to things from the Before Time which may not make sense to today's readers. In these instances, I have added my own explanatory notes in [ ]. 

***

December 1, 2027 - Manatee Springs, Florida

It's been almost a year since this all started. The sky is a little less gray and it is not so cold. It is a lot cooler than I remember Florida being at this time of year. It gets below freezing a night, and we've been chopping a lot of firewood to stay warm. It looks like we'll be eating a lot of fish to get through the winter, but in the spring, we can try planting corn. Corn and potatoes will give us plenty of calories. A few dozen of our men have moved to Cedar Key to the winter to catch fish while another contingent brings most of the catch by bicycle or horse-drawn cart to our main settlement. The other day, a large group of manatees swam into the spring to rest in the warmer water. It was too much of a temptation, though I tried to explain that despite their appearance, manatees don't have much meat or fat on them. I persuaded them to only kill a few of the biggest ones. The rest swam away after the first spears found their mark. I doubt the manatees will return here any time soon. 

A few babies have died. None of them have been vaccinated. Since we can't get vaccines, the best we can do is make soap. I don't know much about it other than if you boil a mixture of ashes and animal fat, you will get something like soap. Fortunately, we were able to scavenge plenty of soap in Chiefland. Mark Twain [a famous writer from the Before Time] said that soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre, but are deadlier in the long run. The other project we have is making chainmail armor, mostly from copper wire salvaged from hardware stores. It's not as hard as steel, but it's lighter and easier to work. Something is better than nothing. We can't let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Given the weather, I don't think we have to worry much about being attacked by hostile tribes. Everyone else like us will be hunkering down for the winter. Some have suggested trying to get power from the solar farm outside Chiefland. It's an interesting idea. If we could charge golf carts there somehow, it would make our lives easier. 

There is also talk of expanding to Cedar Key, though I'm not sure how we'd get enough drinking water. The risk of hurricanes is also a problem. In the long run, we need to get back to farming and preserving food. We'll be slaughtering some of our livestock for meat to get through the winter, but we can't afford to eat all of them. I've been encouraging people to eat fish, eggs, and cheese. Potatoes have been our staple, and we were lucky to have a good harvest before the first frost came. I could tell people are nervous and unhappy, so to shake things up, I called an election. I lost it narrowly to a man who calls himself Lord Humungous. True to his name, he is an imposing figure with a deep, booming voice. People always revert to their caveman instincts. Rather than linger around the spring and sulk about my defeat, I decided to join our fishermen at Cedar Key.  

There is an easy camaraderie there. Sometimes I fish from the pier or gather clams from the shallows. Other times, I venture out in a kayak. In the evenings, we dine well on a portion of the day's catch. The rest gets taken back to feed the others at the spring. In the mornings, we lick dew or frost to get enough water. Plenty collects on the windows of abandoned cars. We've also set out buckets and pans to collect rainwater. It'd be better to have a well, but we have enough to survive here. I thought that I might try catching sharks, not just for food, but to build up my reputation. I made a kind of rattle that I shake in the water to attract them. Another fisherman waits nearby to help kill the shark. The system worked well. The two of us caught 10-foot-long bull shark. I remembered reading you have to boil shark meat to get the urea out, but we ate the liver raw just like killer whales do. We both made impressive looking necklaces out of the beast's teeth. Others have followed our example, and now we have a subculture of shark hunters. 

Not to be outdone, Lord Humungous has led a few successful gator hunts. There are gator warning signs from the Before Time around the spring, but gators by and large avoid people. So he and his inner circle now sport necklaces of gator teeth. The gator leather makes excellent armor, and is lightweight. We could also make boiled leather armor from slaughtered cattle, but that project must wait until our herds are larger. Sharkskin also makes decent leather, and we have been experimenting with that. Otherwise, people have been occupying themselves by making bows and arrows and practicing archery, sometimes on horseback. I like the idea of our tribe being like modern day Mongols and me as Genghis Khan [a great warlord from the Before Time], but for now, I must submit to the leadership of Lord Humungous. Interestingly enough, he invites me to his council meetings from time to time. It's nice to know that rather than viewing me as a rival, he respects my advice. I wonder if he will give up power willingly when his time comes.   

 

I took a break from fishing to lead some of our smarter and better educated tribesmen to the Chiefland Astronomy Village. I don't know how to work any of the abandoned telescopes, but there are plenty to choose from, and we will need to chart the stars to get a calendar going again. I've been keeping track of the days as best I can, but odds are that I've miscounted here and there. They took some of the smaller telescopes from the abandoned museum back to the spring. The abandoned buildings and mobile homes at the village would make decent shelter for anyone who wants to be near the spring but a comfortable distance away from all the drama there. 

    

January 1, 2028 - Cedar Key, Florida

There is growing discontent with the leadership of Lord Humungous, but no one wants to challenge him directly, least of all me. The last thing our tribe needs is a fight that splits us. Most of the unhappy people, particularly the younger men, have migrated here to make a living from the sea. I've been told that Lord Humungous has started his own pagan cult that uses an alligator skull as a totem. Well, two can play at that game. I made a goal of catching a killer whale and making a shrine from its skull, which sort of looks like an gator skull but is a lot bigger. Go big or go home, as the old saying goes. We don't even need to venture that far from shore to find or catch one. All of us who've spent a lot of time on the water are familiar with the sight of whale spouts. The whales and dolphins tend to be naturally curious as well. I regret killing one in order to settle a petty rivalry, but the meat will feed many for months in addition to the prestige I gained. 

  

There was also the matter of how the nature-worshipping pagans would react. I had to be careful not to offend them. I gathered a crew and made some harpoons. My plan was to chase the creature with several boats and jab it with at least two harpoons attached by ropes to our boats. As the orca dragged us through the water, it would inevitably tire and die of exhaustion. We could then safely tow it back to shore, butcher it, and have a great feast. But before that, we would display the slain creature and make a ceremony of thanking it for giving its life that we may eat. I thought that would be enough to pacify the pagans. All of them were hunters too, but until now, manatees and other sea life, particularly mammals, were seen as taboo. The experience of eating the aquarium fish in Atlanta was deeply traumatic for many. For similar reasons, people were very sensitive about the idea of eating dogs, cats, or horses, even though some of them had.

The sea was a bit choppy on the day of the hunt as we launched our boats into the gulf. After a few hours, we spotted a small pod of orcas led by a sole male. The whale was a majestic sight. His tall dorsal cut through the water with power and grace as we drew closer. I was on the tiller of the skiff with ten men rowing and one at the prow with the harpoon. When the first harpoon hit, the whale dove and swam at top speed for several minutes. We were pulled with such force that we nearly capsized as the bow churned the sea into white foam. The other boat with us raced to keep pace alongside the whale from a distance. At last, the orca surfaced to breathe; its spout was bloody. The marksman in the other boat threw his harpoon, and when it struck, the whale let out a moaning yelp. I'll never forget that sound, and I'll never go on another whale hunt. I was angry at myself that I'd made such a majestic animal suffer for petty reasons. That anger turned to Lord Humungous. 

We towed the mighty whale back to shore. There was already a crowd on the beach anticipating our arrival. Dozens of men had to push with all their might to position its carcass on the beach. I knelt before the whale and placed my hand on its head. I couldn't think of any respectable words to say, so I paused for a moment of silence. Many others said goodbye to the orca in a likewise manner as we prepared a bonfire. The men who threw the harpoons were given the honor of making the first cuts. That whale fed about 200 hundred people for over a week, and there was still meat leftover. We preserved the skull in a separate shrine and made kind of a rock garden out of the rest of its skeleton. I told the two men who threw the harpoons that they could each take a tooth to make a necklace. They are now some of the most respected men of the tribe. 

I suggested that we should have another hunt next year, but that I would not take part. Clearly there would be others who would want the honor of hunting a whale. I suggested a limit of one whale per year, and there was a consensus on that. We must not take too much from the sea. Those in wish of a respectable challenge can catch sharks. There are plenty of them about. Caveman politics won out again. Whoever can kill the biggest animal gets to be in charge. Now I have a coalition of whale and shark hunters who will stand by me. I plan on staying here for a while to build up this settlement. Although fresh water is scarce, the ocean is a much better food source than the spring or the river. Still, if a hurricane comes, we'd have to abandon everything we built here, as it would surely be destroyed by the wind and the waves.   

My thoughts turn to the best way of confronting Lord Humungous. I'm tempted to have my men haul the orca skull in front of him. Then I'd point at it and say "mine's bigger", but I need something more artful than that. For now, I will keep mum and let word of the deed spread on its own. As for more practical matters, we should try to scavenge fertilizer and pesticide from the farming supply stores in town. We might as well use it now as there won't be any more of it for the foreseeable future, and it is unlikely to have been looted. Anyway, I'm glad I found a side quest to divert excess male energy from something more disruptive and counterproductive.    

Bare-handed shark fishing | SLICE

RAW: Kayaker Survives Shark Attack In Monterey

the long dusk - part 6

Preface

The is history my father wrote of the great famine as he experienced it and recorded in his diary. Here and there, he makes references to things from the Before Time which may not make sense to today's readers. In these instances, I have added my own explanatory notes in [ ]. 

***

October 1, 2027 - Manatee Springs, Florida

Dozens of refugees from Cedar Key came through with news of an attack by El Jefe and his army. Estimates of the number of troops varied, but all said El Jefe commands at least a thousand, all armed with guns and riding bicycles and horses. A few days before the attack, a rider came through with an ultimatum to either surrender unconditionally or be massacred. The rider was chased away with jeers. Cedar Key was a fairly large, prosperous settlement when I visited it, and there is only one way in or out along a road on a narrow strip of land. Even so, El Jefe attacked in such great numbers that their defenses were overwhelmed. The townsfolk fought back as best they could and inflicted many casualties before they were wiped out. Many young women were captured and violated. Others fled in boats and made their way here. We're happy to have reinforcements, but now fearful we are El Jefe's next target. Sure enough, a few days after we heard the horror stories of the refugees, a rider with a white flag slowly rode into camp. 

It occurred to me that in addition to making the ultimatum, he was also scout and would report back on our defenses. I went out to stop him before he could ride all the way to our inner stronghold at the spring. The rider was a young man about 20 years of age. He was lean, strong, and had a mean and proud look in his eyes. I guess he had delivered many threats before. He told us that his majesty, El Jefe, is the strongest warlord in Florida, and all that he and his men desire are theirs for the taking. Surrender everything now and receive some mercy, he warned. If we fight, all the men would be would be killed. He paused for our reply. I grabbed him and other joined in. We tied him up so he would not report back with what he learned about our defenses. If he was sent out to threaten us, then the bandit horde is already on its way here, and when their scout does not return, they will move to attack us. So we lost nothing by capturing the scout. We decided that anyone who could not stay and fight or did not want to should retreat a few miles to the north by following along the river. 

We sent out a small group of scouts to see if they could locate El Jefe and his men. It wouldn't be hard. If their army was as large as the refugees said, their campfires would visible at night from a distance and the sound of hundreds men talking would carry a long way. In the meantime, we lit many more fires than usual at our village to exaggerate our numbers. Our scouts returned and told us the bandit army was camped in Chiefland, some six miles away. We decided it was best to attack them by surprise at night. Starting at sunset, we began marching out in little bands of five or six. We marched past their camp and then circled back in order to surround them. Once we closed the circle around them, we began moving toward the center. I don't know who fired first, but once the shooting started, there was a lot yelling and some of the bandits tried to flee. Of course, they had to run toward us if they wanted to escape, and all were quickly cut down. The shooting tapered off as dawn approached, and we again started moving toward the center. 

There were many dead, but more were wounded. Since they couldn't be helped, they were disarmed and left alone. If they refused to be disarmed, they were killed outright. Others were playing dead or hiding in tents. We ended up with hundreds of prisoners, including El Jefe himself. Everyone gathered around as I prepared to execute him with my pistol. There was no good reason to let him live, and if I hadn't done it, someone else would have, and my reputation would have suffered. It was over quickly. I asked him if he had any last words. He just gave me the finger and I put a bullet between his eyes. That was the first time I killed anyone. I didn't feel great about it, but I didn't feel bad about it either. He was an evil man, and only death would stop him. I sawed his head off with a hunting knife to keep as a trophy.  

There was a discussion over what to do with the other prisoners. Some suggested mutilating them in some way and letting them go. Chopping off hands or gouging out eyes would be messy and take a long time. On the other hand, doing so would let them serve as living warnings that my tribe is not to be trifled with. Others suggested that we enslave them as whatever work they did was work we didn't have to do ourselves. I was against slavery for moral and practical reasons. There were also some who thought the safest choice was to just kill all of them. In the end, I decided on a compromise. There was roughly one captive for each one of us, and I had already killed mine. The prisoners were huddled in a mass and we were in a circle around them. One by one, I went to each prisoner and led him to a man in the circle. I then told the man to make his choice about what to do next. And so, some were killed, some mutilated, and some enslaved. At the end of the day, we had about 100 slaves. I knew slavery was more trouble than it was worth, but to argue against it then would have been futile.

The mutilated ones were let alone to wander off as they wished. Some just sat down and buried their faces in the hands; those that still had both hands. Like me, a many men returned to camp with human body parts as war trophies. I can't blame them too much for doing what I did. It made the ones who took slaves seem merciful. The enemy dead were left to rot. We cremated our own fallen warriors nearby and made a cairn to mark the spot. From the enemy, we captured many weapons, much ammo, hundreds of bicycles, and a few horses. Most of the horses ran away during the battle. We might be able to catch them later. We set the horses to plow more fields for vegetables and potatoes. We also captured a number of wineskins, and drank from them to celebrate the victory. It reminded me of the need to get a brewery going. Beer is one of the pillars of civilization. What we did to El Jefe and his men is also part of civilization. It still bothers me how it conflicts with what we say about ourselves. 

November 1, 2027 - Manatee Springs, Florida

I have questioned the captured scout at length. He calls himself Huerfano, meaning orphan. Although he has no reason to lie, he also has little incentive to tell the truth. Even so, by reading between the lines, I can separate fact from fiction with some confidence. He said that El Jefe got his start in the Miami area. The collapse there led to a particularly brutal civil war. Part of it was due to the prevalence of drug gangs, but Latin machismo was also part of it. El Jefe was able to unite Cubans, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, etc. on the basis of La Raza, or the Hispanic race. Spanish became a kind of prestige language spoken by the elite while English continued as a lingua franca, albeit with many Spanish words mixed in. According to Huerfano, El Jefe defeated several rival warlords on his way to the top of the heap. At times, he could even be charming and was always generous with the spoils of war so as to build the morale of his troops.   

    

In our council meetings, there is a growing faction which suggests we should strike out to raid and conquer. The best defense is a good offense as the old saying goes. I and others recommend a porcupine strategy of making ourselves are hard target so we can safely build up our numbers. We all agree that the general rule of history is expand or die, so at some point, we will need to fight wars with far off enemies. The aftermath of the battle has led to some social factures. To heal them, I put forth a motion that we not take any more slaves and the ones we do have are to be freed after seven years. The ban on future slavery was overturned, but there was a strong consensus on freeing all slaves after seven years. Freed slaves would have a choice of joining the tribe or being exiled. There is no point in forcing resentful former enemies to be a part of our group. We all agreed it was far safer to get rid of them; violently if necessary.

Likewise, the issue of torture and mutilation arose. It was agreed that we would not engage in such atrocities again, though it was officially allowed to take anything property from a slain foe. Cannibalism was strictly forbidden. As for war trophies, it was restricted to the taking of teeth and skulls. Only those who fought in at least one battle could take teeth and wear them on a necklace. Only one skull, ideally of the enemy commander, would be taken for each victorious battle, and it would be displayed in a common area with the skull of El Jefe. Speaking of which, I decided that should be the one who preserved the skull since I had taken his life. First, I gouged out his eyes. Then I boiled his head so the flesh would come off more easily. His brain oozed out of his skull's eye sockets. When only the bone remained, I placed it in a small shrine located so that everyone who had to use the spring would walk past it. In this way, they would be reminded of our victory and the need to be vigilant.

The crops are doing well, though we will probably have our last harvest of the year soon. The weather is turning colder again, though not nearly as cold as it was in January back in Crossville. The pagans built their own shrine decorated with the miniature stuffed animals from the aquarium. The animals have been named and associated with deities, though I have not bothered to learn much about the new mythology. From time to time, I kneel before the shrine and leave an offering of a small fish. This gesture satisfies the pagans without angering the Christians or inciting ridicule from the non-religious. We pride ourselves on both freedom of religion and a lack of religious conflict. I hope it stays that way. As another ceremonial gesture, we made four extra large pirate flags and mounted them on the Chiefland water tower. It's the tallest structure around that can be climbed easily. It marks our territory and serves as a warning to would-be invaders. I like to say never bite when a growl will do. That's the rule in nature.

Our slaves seem to have accepted their lot in life and for the most part behave. Here they are safe and well-fed at least. They are banned from handling weapons, but otherwise have few restrictions. A few have been killed for refusing their masters' commands or for trying to escape. This harsh punishment keeps them in line and also reduces the slave population to the most compliant. I look forward to the day when there are no more slaves, but I suspect it is a long way off. Slavery was the norm for most of history. At least with our tribe, slavery is restricted to enemies captured in battle. They can neither be bought or sold. That at least keeps a lid on things. Those desirous of slaves must become adept warriors and go into battle. Amongst the young men, there is a growing desire to fight wars, as the veteran warriors have the most beautiful wives. Prostitution exists in our tribe, but is frowned upon. Young men and women, with encouragement from their elders, are marrying with the goal of raising families.  

As for myself, I have chosen to abstain, at least for the time being. Being celibate grants a measure of prestige, especially if a man has easy access to women. I do want children of my own someday. Until then, I am satisfied with teaching the young about constellations, plants, and animals. As far as I can tell, just about all the fertile women in the tribe are either pregnant or caring for a baby. In the coming years, we will need many teachers to educate them. It is my hope that the young people I teach now will carry on that work. The best monuments are living, breathing ones - the people you help and the lives you touch. Even if I end up without children, my legacy will be secure. I take solace in that.

the long dusk - part 5

Preface

The is history my father wrote of the great famine as he experienced it and recorded in his diary. Here and there, he makes references to things from the Before Time which may not make sense to today's readers. In these instances, I have added my own explanatory notes in [ ]. 

***

August 1 - Manatee Springs, Florida

I've taken up residence in the park's snack bar, named The Chubby Mermaid. The sign has a cartoon manatee wearing a seashell bra. There was a small band here already that took up residence in the abandoned trailer park about half a mile from here. Of our original caravan, about a hundred followed me all the way to the spring. I set my plastic Viking helmet aside for the time being, as my leadership is no longer needed. We are safe for now, have plenty of clean water, firewood, and wild game. People have planted vegetable gardens including potatoes. They grow well and should provide a stable food source. As for myself, I spend most of time catching fish and hunting wild boars. Their population grew during the collapse, and now herds of them wander the countryside. If I was a more industrious man, I'd catch some of swine and domesticate them. I figure someone else will do that eventually. I don't need to work much to feed myself, and any excess fish or game I barter for vegetables, ammo, or other supplies. I do most of my hunting with a bow now, thought I still carry my parents' pistol everywhere. 

A few dozen other people have stayed with me all the way to the spring. We often have potluck dinners in the pavilion. Some people are still living in tents. My nearest neighbors live in the gift shop next to the snack bar. I said I'm willing to share the snack bar space with others, but they let me have it, I guess as a reward for leading them to this oasis. There are plenty of kayaks and canoes here, which makes it easier to find better fishing spots out on the Suwanee River. Everyone looks healthier. Lean, but healthy. Despite the lack of dental care, most people's teeth look good. I suppose it's from the lack of refined sugar. We can also bathe and wash our clothes regularly, which is a great pleasure after being filthy for so long. At the potluck dinners, I've said that we shouldn't get too comfortable. We're on a prime piece of real estate, and sooner or later, someone is going to try to take it from us. And then our only choices will be fight, flee, or be their slaves. 

There is a large alfalfa field about a mile from the spring. We should graze cattle and horses there. The field is overrun with weeds, but it's still a good pasture. We still have some bicycles, which allows us to trade and get news from more distant settlements. Gainesville and Ocala are about as far as anyone's ridden. The coasts are much more crowded now. That's going to be an issue when the hurricanes come, but so far, the weather's been calm. Cooler temperatures mean fewer hurricanes. Even so, I'm glad we're far enough inland to be safe from any storm surges. When I lived in this area many years ago, three hurricanes hit close by, but the worst that happened was the power went out for a few days. Cedar Key is the biggest settlement near us now, and it is particularly vulnerable to hurricanes. I rode down there to check things out. It's a bustling fishing village, though many work on the clam farms. Barter is still common, but dollars are widely accepted. Although the money supply is stable now, food is still expensive. Everything else is even more expensive. 

Sometimes I regret not taking my silver coins with me, but it was about 30 pounds and would have just made me a target. Food is still the most valuable commodity, though I'm tempted to say the famine is over, at least for now. The most important thing I learned overseas many years ago is that it's better to have lots of friends than lots of money. There are problems you can't buy your way out of. I remember reading about the various bunkers rich people built to survive the apocalypse. Even if they have several years' worth of food, whoever fled to such places has little chance of long-term survival. Mobs of starving survivors surely broke in, and what good is it to be billionaire when money is worthless? 

Mormons were taught to keep a year supply of food for each person in their household, but I don't know how many actually did that. Anyway, they and the survivalists were concentrated in Utah and the Pacific Northwest. The winters there were harsh even before doomsday. Trying to raise food there now would be very hard, though I suppose there are bands of nomadic hunters scattered around. Those tribes are probably going to be independent for decades at least. If and when anyone ever tries to reunify the country, they'll have to fight hundreds of little wars just like in the Old West. Given the remote areas survivalists likely settled years ago, they've probably been forced to migrate elsewhere to avoid freezing or starving.  

I suggested we build a wooden palisade to protect our settlement near the spring. Maybe we could charge outsiders a fee for water and fishing rights. I've heard very few gunshots since we arrived here, so it's been fairly peaceful. A trader from Gainesville visited us, and we questioned him extensively about what happened during the collapse. Gainesville had about 10 times as many people as Crossville, and Jacksonville is even bigger than that. He said there were armed clashes in Gainesville, and that was made worse by the large number of young people at the university. They formed gangs and fought hard, as they were healthy and had their whole lives ahead of them. The gangs formed along racial and ethnic lines. The white American Christians had the most guns and experience in using them, so they ended up pushing out most of the others. I recall seeing very few non-whites in either Gainesville or Cedar Key. In Chiefland, where I lived years ago, there was a lynching way back in 1927, and it still got talked about when I was there. In 1923, there was also the Rosewood Massacre not too far from Cedar Key. 

He said that the cities of Tallahassee and Jacksonville have a black supermajority now, and whites are not welcome there. I imagine that's true of various other cities as well. Florida's Hispanic population has probably migrated to the Miami area. On the one hand, it's a city, but it's also warm and next to the ocean. The same is true of Tampa. So roughly speaking, blacks control the north third of the state, whites the middle, and Hispanics the southern. There was a low-level race war during the collapse, and I expect it to heat up in the coming years. The non-religious and pagans, being heavily white, will likely close ranks with white Christians when push comes to shove. Whites are still a majority though, possibly a larger majority as I suspect more of them have survived. They still have strong memories of the United States and will want to rebuild it.

Last month, we had a minor Fourth of July [an important holiday from the Before Time] celebration. We built a bonfire, had a feast, and fired a few shots in the air. I've had some success in organizing a small militia. We still keep a fire burning at night and always have at least one person walking around and keeping watch. During the many hours I've stood watch, the same questions of how to survive the future turn over in my mind.

September 1, 2027 - Manatee Springs, Florida   

      

The settlement continues to grow. I estimate about 200 people live within a quarter mile radius of the abandoned snack bar where I live. A similar number live in the abandoned trailer park about half a mile away. There is a daily procession of people coming to fetch water from the spring. Sometimes they carry the buckets, other times they transport them in carts or wagons. There are some dogs which help guard us at night, and people have begin raising chickens for meat and eggs. There are pregnant women and some babies. Life goes on. In council meetings, we've agreed to expand along the banks of the Suwanee River. But that will take a long time. I hold an assembly each evening for those who wish to attend. I being with the words "Pay! Lay! Ale! Oh marvelous god! Hear the words of my mouth!" We then recite the pledge of allegiance in unison while facing the camp flag, which is the Jolly Roger pirate flag. This skull and crossbones banner is particularly popular among the young. There is a potluck meal followed by a ritual we call The Airing of the Grievances. It helps keep the peace.   

A messenger on a bike came to visit. He said that to the south, a warlord who calls himself El Jefe [Spanish for "The Boss"] leads a small army of bandits on bicycles. When they come to a settlement, they demand food, ammo, and women, and if they don't get them, they attack and take what they want. Supposedly he commands a few hundred at most, but I doubt it is that many. A good rule of thumb when hearing news is "who wants me to believe this and why?" It's crossed my mind that El Jefe pays bike messengers to spread tales of his ruthlessness. In any case, we have been preparing defenses. One measure is that we have been lighting many more campfires at night than usual so as to make our numbers appear greater. This has created a virtuous cycle of attracting people who see the fires to our village. They in turn light more fires, and so on. There is a long, winding road leading up the snack bar area. On either side, foxholes have been dug. In the event of an attack, those fighting from those positions ought to slow down attackers long enough for people to escape in boats or deeper into the woods.  

Additionally, a number of barriers which partially block the road have been placed at regular intervals. This slows down those coming to fetch water, but will also slow down any attackers by forcing them to make many turns. Our dogs will bark and the roosters will crow if the attack comes at night. Everyone who can shoot has either a gun or a bow. We've been having archery tournaments and have set a side an area for a range. Unfortunately, ammo is too scarce to waste on target practice, and even if we had plenty, there is no safe place we could put a shooting range. Some people have build stands up in the trees and turned them into watchtowers. On the whole, I think are defenses are strong, but against a large and determined enemy, the battle could go either way. There always unforeseen factors. El Jefe's men probably have combat experience on their side, but the spring is our lifeblood, and we will defend it to the utmost. The rabbit runs faster than the fox because the fox is running for his dinner, but the rabbit is running for his life. 

We have acquired cows and goats, thus increasing our supply of food with meat and cheese. A trading expedition to Ocala returned with several horses. Hopefully we can put them to work plowing fields soon. Life is good in many ways. We have no taxes, no police, no courts, no jails, and no written laws. I expect that will change at some point, but for now, we are a tribal society. In order put the Christians among us at ease, I have begun wearing a large wooden crucifix on a loop of leather. Appearances can be deceiving, but they are what people usually go by. It's a small price to pay for greater social harmony. I've begun ending the evening assemblies with a chant I modified from the one I learned in Boy Scouts [a kind of paramilitary wilderness survival group from the Before Time]. It goes: "We are trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courtesy, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent!" As a bonus, the chant acts as a shibboleth [a kind of password]. Anyone found by the town watch after dark is questioned. The guard shouts one word from the "we are" chant and the correct response is the following word. If they don't respond properly, we know they're not from around here, and more guards are called to investigate. But that's only happened a few times so far. In this way, we can make sure the only way to enter the village at night is to have a friend here who teaches them the passwords. 

There seem to be a few who covet my authority, but so far, I have no rivals, and no has dared to challenge me. It helps that I keep to myself and only make suggestions. I trade favors and never expect to get something for nothing. I picked up a simple moral code from reading many folk tales. Putting them all together, the common lessons are: be polite, take risks, make deals. Those three rules are really about all you need in life. People here, particularly the young, spend most of their time practicing practical skills, but they also enjoy stories and lessons about different subjects. My niche is more of a storyteller and a teacher rather than a chief. Some days, I quietly fish at the Catfish Hotel sinkhole. Other days, I'm helping in someone's garden. There is a strong spirit of community here, and we all share what we have. Again, that will change someday. 

the long dusk - part 3

Preface

The is history my father wrote of the great famine as he experienced it and recorded in his diary. Here and there, he makes references to things from the Before Time which may not make sense to today's readers. In these instances, I have added my own explanatory notes in [ ]. 

***

April 1, 2027 - Crossville, Tennessee

It turns out Bud is friends with the priest from my mom's church, and they've stayed in touch since this all started. Father Michael might be the oldest survivor in this area. The three of us met at Bud's house to talk. We agreed that it was best to make the trek to Florida, but we should stay here long enough to rally more survivors and gather supplies. There is some vegetation now, but not nearly as much as usual. Bud is letting his flock of lambs grow into sheep. That way they can walk with us as we make our way south. The other day I saw some geese flying south, which was an odd sight in the spring. Father Michael says he and his network of survivors saved up enough diesel to power a school bus for a few hundred miles. We can load the bus with supplies and let the weaker survivors ride in it. All the bicycles, wagons, and wheelbarrows have been gathered up. All that's left to do is for us preserve food and build up our strength. Bud thinks a pace of 10 miles per day is reasonable. 

I asked Father Michael how could a loving God let something like this happen. He answered that it must be like Noah's flood. Maybe doomsday was God's way of cleansing the earth of evil. The lord works in mysterious ways, he says. That seems trite to me. On the other hand, if there is a God, then maybe the extinction of the dinosaurs was also his doing, and the purpose of that was to make space for mammals to live and evolve, ultimately leading to the rise of mankind. I don't see the point in arguing about unprovable things, so I usually avoid discussing these matters. There is value in faith, particularly in that it gives people hope to endure the hardships of life. I have a miniature Army Bible. It's the only other book I plan on taking to Florida. Many years ago, I underlined my favorite passage in it. It's Psalm 18:37 - "I pursue my enemies, and I catch them. I do not stop until I destroy them." At the time, I was a young and aggressive soldier eager to prove my worth.

A lot of people, particularly young men, want to be important or do something important. They want to make their mark on the world. In my case, this desire was also driven by a fear of death. I was always doubtful about the existence of an afterlife, so I wanted to do great things and achieve a kind of immortality by making it into the history books. How foolish I was, although the desire to be great motivated me to work hard. Circumstances have given me chance to be important by rallying the survivors and leading them to the promised land, like Moses did. The weather is still fairly cool and I find that a Baja sweatshirt, also humorously known as a "drug rug", keeps me warm enough. 

Father Michael and Bud organized a town meeting. What's left of the town anyway. There was a consensus on the need to migrate south, but the details need to be hammered out. There are a few pregnant women, and it's safer for them to give birth at the hospital even though there's no power or running water anymore. So it seems there will be a small faction staying behind and making the best of it at least for a while. It seems very unlikely they'd survive another winter though, especially with no one else to help them. I suggested that we try to make it to Atlanta before their due dates. Hopefully we can salvage supplies and medicine from a hospital there. Everyone agreed that was a good idea. 

During some long expeditions in history, they brought extra horses or camels and ate some along the way. That practice was called "walking supply" and avoided the problem of having to preserve food. We did a headcount, and there are about a thousand of us. We're still trying to figure out how we can feed that many people for a journey of over 500 miles that will last at least two months. I'm reminded of a video game [a game played on an electronic device] I played as a kid called Oregon Trail. The goal was to lead your small family in a wagon over thousands of miles through various hardships and dangers. It was based on real events, and many people died on the actual trail from accidents and disease.  

We can let the pregnant women, the old, the weak, and the very young ride in the bus. There aren't very many of them, maybe a dozen. Everybody else can walk, push a wheelbarrow, or push a bike. We need to load the bikes with supplies too. A modified bicycle can carry a few hundred pounds, but I doubt the loads will be nearly that heavy simply because no one here is strong enough to push something like that for hundreds of miles. We need to work out a system where people take turns pushing a walking. There are a few horses left, but I don't think they could handle the strain of being ridden or carrying a load. We're bringing them along to eat them as needed, though there is a small chance they might survive the journey, and I hope they do. When their strength returns, we can use them for transport and for plowing.

The days of careful rationing are over, but that's only because we'll be on the move soon. The lake is crowded with fishermen, hunters have killed every wild animal they can find, and all the looted animal feed is being given to the surviving sheep, cows, and horses to fatten them up. People are smiling and joking a bit. It seems the worst is over. 

I've been thinking carefully about what to bring. I'll need to travel light so as to save my strength. The good book says "take nothing for the journey but the staff", so I'll be taking my big bamboo walking stick I bought in Florida. It's a symbol of hope for the journey in addition to being protection. The guns and ammo are heavy, so most of that's going on the bus. We'll have a few people carrying rifles as they walk for protection, though I suspect the size of our caravan will ward off any bandits. I'll carry by parents' pistol in my pocket. Hopefully I'll never need to use it. There's been enough death already. Otherwise, we won't be carrying much besides food, water, knives, lighters, and blankets. Like an old song says, the secret to surviving is knowing what to throw away and knowing what to keep. We can't take too many books, so we're just taking the road atlas and some guidebooks about practical things. 

 

Of course, everyone wants to take a few items of sentimental value. The only one I'm taking beyond what I've mention is a plastic Viking helmet. I figure I might as well have fun and dress up since we're all living in the dark ages again. I'll be taking this journal and some writing materials with me. Someone needs to keep a record of this.  

May 1, 2027 - Atlanta, Georgia

The weather had gotten warmer and we are few miles outside Atlanta on I-75 south. We've encountered many abandoned vehicles on the way. Some show signs of a struggle, with bullet holes, smashed glass, and burn marks. People just avert their eyes whenever the occasional decayed corpse appears. For shelter, we sleep in abandoned buildings along the way. We sleep in turns with the strongest standing watch for an hour or two each at night. Our pace has been about 10 miles per day, which even in our weakened state is not too exhausting. The bus goes on ahead of the rest of the group in order to save fuel and scout ahead. Otherwise, the rest of the caravan is organized so that the slowest are up from and the rest are behind. That way the group stays together. 

The pickings are pretty slim, but we have managed to scavenge some food and other supplies from the abandoned buildings we've come across. A handful of other survivors have joined our band along the way as well. Each evening after we make camp, Father Michael gives a sermon and leads us in prayer. Most take part, I prefer to watch from a respectful distance. Also in evenings, we have a council circle where anyone can speak. Whoever is wearing my plastic Viking hat has the floor, and when they're done, they had it off to someone else until the meeting ends, and the helmet goes back on my head. 

Although it's obvious I'm the leader, I've been trying to be humble about it. I don't give any orders, but I do sometimes use my bamboo stick to point at things or bang it on the ground to get someone's attention. When we make camp, I help gather firewood, build fires, and cook. I have a little experience slaughtering and butchering animals, but I mostly leave that to the hunters and Bud. He's the real expert when it comes to livestock. There's more grass now, and our animals graze whenever we stop. I suggested we could drink cow blood for nourishment instead of slaughtering them for meat, and we've had some success with that. The Mongols of Genghis Khan's army traveled great distances with few supplies, and their main source of nourishment was the blood of their own horses. 

Little tidbits like that are the way I earned my authority, I think. It's true I know a lot of random and useless trivia, but I also know important things. Sometimes for entertainment, I recite poetry, tell jokes, or play my kazoo. I suggested we raid the music store before we left and at least get a guitar. We ended up with a fair number instruments including a bugle and a drum. The bugle stays on the bus, and whenever the rest of the caravan reaches the bus, Bud plays a bugle call to celebrate the end of the day's march. It helps maintain morale. 

We've lost a few people so far. Pretty much everyone here has eaten pets, people, or both, so if the deceased becomes dinner, we just avert our eyes and try to ignore the smell. We all hope for the day when no is forced to cannibalism. That's going to be a hard habit to break, I think. Our only hope is to reach a place where we can get enough food from hunting, fishing, and gardening. There are some farmers among us, but without machines, fuel, fertilizer, and such, there's no way we can grow food the modern way. I remember seeing many cattle ranches in the part of Florida we're headed for, so I'm hoping we can get beef-based economy going eventually.  

From time to time, someone along the side of the road will pop out of the bushes to spy on us before quickly disappearing again. We beckon them to come, but often they don't. We haven't encountered any bandits yet, but I'm sure they're lurking out there. We stumbled across the remnants of a few smaller caravans that had been ambushed. My guess is it's bands of escaped criminals and perhaps soldiers that deserted. Those are the people I'm really worried about, because they're armed, dangerous, and desperate. Anybody who's wanted to kill or rob with impunity has had ample opportunity to do so. A famous philosopher said that in a state of nature, life is nasty, brutish, and short. That about sums up our situation.    

On a positive note, one of the pregnant women gave birth and both her and the baby are doing well. Praise the lord, says Father Michael. It's the miracle of life. His faith really does astound me, but I can't argue with results. Among the survivors, there are the strongly religious and the opposite, and not much in between. The plastic Viking helmet I wear is sort of my silent way of expressing my opinion about religion - it is regarded by the wise as false, the foolish as true, and the rulers as useful. Even so, many of us wear crosses or American flags, and the bus is decorated with them. Such symbols of hope are useful. I remember 9/11 [the date of a huge terrorist attack that killed thousands of Americans in 2001] and how the next day there were American flags displayed everywhere. Maybe if enough people see crosses and American flags, it will remind us of our humanity, the way things used to be, than the need to rebuild. 

We still have over 300 miles to travel, but at least we are near the halfway point. At the council meetings, we discuss how to handle Atlanta. It may be tough to keep the group together and pass through as quickly as possible. People will naturally want to explore a little a scavenge, but that makes us vulnerable to ambush by bandits. I suggest that the bus and herd move through the city and stop for two days to give anyone who wants a chance to explore. We agreed that seemed reasonable and fair, since at least half the caravan would want to play it safe and stay with the bus, as would Father Michael as usual and Bud as an extra precaution.  

At our last evening powwow before entering the city, we'll find out who plans to stay and explore and divide up into small groups for safety. I'll be leading one, and I plan on seeing what happened to the aquarium. 

split mind

 

suggested reading for those curious about joining the military

1. Storm of Steel - a German soldier's harrowing account of the horrors of WW1

2. The Things They Carried - what it was like to be drafted into the Vietnam War

3. About Face - the autobiography of one soldier's long and distinguished career in the Army 

4. To Hell and Back - the eyewitness account of Audie Murphy, America's most decorated hero of WW2

5. The Forever War - a sci-fi parable by a Vietnam combat veteran. 

6. Slaughterhouse Five - a mix of history, comedy, and sci-fi as told by a US POW during WW2

7. Bill the Galactic Hero - a sci-fi satire of the military by a WW2 veteran

8. Once an Eagle - a classic and epic novel by a combat veteran of WW2 

9. Escape from Laos - the true story of one pilot's survival and daring escape from a POW camp

10. The Private History of a Campaign that Failed - Mark Twain's hilarious memoir of his brief time as a soldier in the Civil War. 

meanwhile in Africa

Here's what foreign aid pays for:

I exaggerate somewhat, but the main result of foreign aid is population growth. Perhaps someday Africa will industrialize to a similar level as Europe or North America. I doubt it. In any case, Africa is and will be dependent on food aid and food imports, as well as imports of fuel, fertilizer, and machinery. 

The above screenshot is from the 7:42 mark of this video:

The Collective African Culture Is Broken

Elsewhere

Tanzanian President Magufuli pardons child rapists

The orphanage director I worked with in Tanzania tried unsuccessfully to get permission for a pregnant girl to return to school as she was less than a year from graduating. 

 

suggested video games for homeschoolers and gifted/talented students

All these games are from the mid to late 90s but should be available used (cheap!) or on Steam. There are also similar games currently and from recent years.

Real-time strategy games and city-building games are best because they teach how to manage complex systems. It's like a faster version of chess. Some role-playing games involve creative problem solving.

Fighting and first-person shooter games tend to be popular and fun, but don't teach much. Racing and flying games are good for building hand-eye coordination. I never played sports games much, so I don't know what the pros and cons of those are. 

Older video games like Super Mario or Pac-Man tend to be more about reaction time and winning through trial and error. Other than nostalgia, there's not much point in playing them.

1. Zelda: Ocarina of Time

This one has mild fantasy violence, but otherwise nothing objectionable. Beating this game requires patience and creativity as there are a wide variety of puzzles to solve. 

2. Age of Empires 2

Any game from this series is solid, and it indirectly teaches about history. It combines city-building with strategy.

3. Railroad Tycoon 2

Again, any game from this series is good, and it also teaches about economics and the history of railroads.

4. Tropico 

This is also a series of games. You govern an island nation where you can have free and fair elections or become a dictator through various means. There is little violence but some adult references (cigars, rum, gambling, cabaret). The game teaches history, politics, and economics. I highly recommend it. 

5. StarCraft

This a great one for sci-fi fans. It has stronger violence than Age of Empires and is basically that game in space. Warhammer fans will love this one. 

6. Caesar 3

This is a city building game that teaches a lot about ancient Rome. There's mild violence as you command legions to fight various barbarians. And you must build temples to various pagan gods or face their wrath. 

7. Command and Conquer

This is a series of games starting in 1995. Red Alert 2 is my favorite as it has amusing cut scenes and campy humor. The violence is PG-13. 

8. Oregon Trail

If you let your kid play one video game, let it be this. The 90s version is best. There is mild violence in the hunting minigame and references to death. 

9. Destroy all Humans!

Another sci-fi gem and a great game for misanthropes. The violence is mild and there are some adult references. It has some of the best humor of any video game I've ever played. 

10. Primal Rage

Who doesn't love dinosaurs? Well, this game is basically Mortal Kombat with dinosaurs. Or at least creatures similar to them. There's a lot of blood, but it sure is fun. Maybe save this one as a reward for good behavior. It's what my parents did. 

Video games have a bad reputation, but some of them are educational in addition to being entertaining.

It's better to get your kid hooked on one of the above before they stumble upon a mindless, amoral cesspool like Grand Theft Auto (a fun game, but it does not develop the mind).

I should note that I played all the "bad" video games too and did not grow up to be a career criminal. Video games can desensitize someone to violence, but they do not make people violent. 

Should you go to college? Should you study engineering?

I think it is a bad idea to borrow a lot of money for college, though most who study law or medicine pay back their loans with no problem. 

I was not enthusiastic about college. I went because I got a full scholarship and couldn't think of anything better to do. I don't regret going to college, but it made me realize that I did not want to spend any more time in school, though that ended up happening anyway. 

My scholarship required that I study science, engineering, or technology. I picked chemical engineering because I liked chemistry in high school and the starting salaries were good. At the time, I wasn't sure if I wanted to get a PhD, so I thought engineering was a practical choice that would let me go to work right away if I wanted. As it turned out, after four years of studying engineering, I wanted to do something completely different for a while. So I joined the Peace Corps because I wanted to travel, learn another language, and have an adventure. That was probably the best decision I ever made. 

In order to be a successful engineer, you have to be focused and driven. You have to care a lot about getting the design or process right. If you find the work boring, as I did, engineering will not work out for you as a career. Engineers usually work in teams, so they have to be sociable. If you're an introvert, avoid engineering unless you're really interested in the technology involved. 

If I had to live my life over again knowing everything I know now, my life would be about 90% the same. That's a sign I don't have too many regrets and made mostly the right decisions. 

 

suggested schedule and activities for gifted and talented children

In the US, this refers to children with IQs 130 or higher. They are in the top 2% for intelligence and do best with self-directed learning.

Places to take them: above all, libraries. After that, museums, zoos, aquariums, planetariums, and escape rooms. Regular weekend trips should be enough. If they can volunteer at these places or partner with a mentor there, they should. 

If they're in public school, they should try to skip grades and graduate early. Schools are designed around an IQ range of 85 to 115. 

Set a limit of about an hour of reading per day. One movie per day is acceptable. An hour of TV and video game time per day is reasonable. That covers about four hours. 

Ideally, they should have some project they are working on that takes up most of their time during the day. This can include gardening, painting, drawing, writing, playing music, building models, solving puzzles, science experiments, or playing chess. Fours per day during the week should be enough.

Intellectual children often lack physical fitness. Running, swimming, weightlifting, and martial arts can counteract this. Scouting and 4H are great places for such children to socialize. If nothing else, long walks and bike rides build endurance and resilience. 

It's very easy to get such children to do chores if you pay them. They should start working part-time as soon as they can. 

They should conceal their intelligence, follow their passions, and take the path of least resistance. 

boredom

 

landscape

 

milima haikutani, lakini binadamu, hukutana

 

Alan Escapes The Game Into New Reality | Jumanji (Robin Williams, David Alan Grier)

Mountains don't meet, but people do.

When you speak a foreign language, just use the words you know and pronounce them well, and others will understand. 

THE SKWOIDS (aka Good Business)

be all you can be

 

relax

 

open sesame - iftah yaa simsim

 

faith

 

"Although I don't like Islam or any other religion, I don't think Muslims are bad people."