Gribley's Folly

Friends are asking me how to prepare for hard times. This in itself is concerning, because they used to make fun of me for even the mildest display of readiness.

We live in a time when you can walk into Walmart and buy a shotgun with a door breaching muzzle and neon-green lettering proclaiming it to be the “Zombie” model, because the firearms industry knows that not everyone had a good father to teach them that guns are not toys. Like any product in a free market, it exists because there is demand. And if my friends ask Google “how to prepare,” the people who make up the target market for that shotgun will be the ones who answer.

So I’m writing this.

But prepare for what?

You know what, or you wouldn’t be reading this. We can talk about hurricanes and earthquakes and outbreaks, but let’s not kid ourselves. My friends wouldn’t be asking me about this stuff if Donald Trump weren’t president. If ISIS weren’t bombing childrens’ concerts. If we didn’t all feel that there’s something moving beneath the surface, something we are afraid to ignore but more afraid to name. We have a choice between action or resting on platitudes. “This too shall pass.” “God is in control.” And my favorite: “We don’t know what the future holds.”

Except we do know. To pretend otherwise is to say there will never be another hurricane or earthquake or outbreak. But if there is one commonality in history other than bloodshed, it’s false security. In 1914 the European public was told–and believed–that war was impossible. In 1938: “Peace in our time.”

You can spend your time trying to stop it, though no one has ever stopped it before. I hope you’ll be the first to succeed, but living by that hope is folly. The Great Impeachment is a pipe dream. We wrestle not with flesh and blood, nor with a single man.

I’m going to talk about gear and bags and emergencies, but all of that is bullshit. It might get you out of a situation, but not The Situation. Even if all this stuff weren’t going on, life well lived is an adventure, and adventures are dangerous business. Get into enough situations and sooner or later you won’t get out.

Despite the popularity of #resistance virtue-signaling, authoritarianism cannot be resisted. That we were made for these times does not mean we will win, or be remembered as patriots, or even survive. So why prepare at all?

In my dream a man stands by a river with a fishing rod, but he’s not fishing. He tells me: “It’s late in the world. All you can do now is love other people.”

The kind of readiness we’re going to talk about here has nothing to do with survival. Preppers and insurance salesmen and financial advisors are lying to you. Your life and your fortune and your political agency can’t be ensured. None of those things are yours to begin with.

Remain ready, instead, to love your neighbor. Remain ready to do the right thing. We will all be tested. How? No one can say, but I suspect it will be made abundantly clear before this is over. And it doesn’t have to be dramatic. If history is any guide, for the vast majority of people, the test will be one of self interest against the interest of another. Maybe a stranger, maybe even an enemy.

Zombies don’t exist: Why Prepping is a Trap

The very first thing you should do in preparing for hard times is ignore any advice from people wearing camouflage. Further red flags are anyone whose introductory graphics include a firearm, anyone who refers to themselves as an “operator,” or anyone who writes things in all-caps like TEOTWAWKI or TSHTF or BOB or INCH or OPSEC.

If the survival “expert” you’re watching on YouTube refers to human beings as “bad guys” or “zombies,” click away and watch cat videos. You will not be “bugging out,” “running and gunning,” or participating in “homeland defense” unless you are a goddamn Navy SEAL, and if that’s the case you won’t need the internet to learn how to prepare.

So now, with 99% of internet prepper resources off the table, who do you trust?

There are real outdoorsmen, and there are people that buy ornamental knives from the rack by the register at the gas station. The former scoff at fantasies about living in the woods and the latter play too much Call of Duty to have the physical stamina to survive a picnic.

In the middle of the spectrum lie the “operators,” who know what they’re doing but have all the human wisdom of Yosemite Sam. It’s true that they may survive a disaster, but only because, given the internal state of their minds and hearts, a disaster isn’t really out of the ordinary. These are folks whose life goal is to become invulnerable. They ignore the fundamental tenet of most religions–faith in a higher design–and miss the basic lesson of western siege warfare: Every castle is also a prison.

And they are many: Witness the portion of our population for whom “Build the Wall” was an energizing slogan. Of all the nation-state border walls built in history, which still serve their intended purpose? The Great Wall of China? The Berlin Wall? Hadrian’s Wall? Today’s fortifications are tomorrow’s tourist attractions.

It’s a scaleable idea. The suit of armor remains as novel decoration long after the knight has rotted away.

Unless that knight is a zombie.

The internet is full of varying arguments about how to prepare, and most of it is what is called “scenario prepping.” Nuclear war, magnetic pole reversal, superflu outbreak. Because all of this is complicated and preppers are crazy, we have zombies. Rather than juggle a thousand scenarios, preppers quell their anxieties (which often have nothing to do with prepping) by preparing for goddamn zombies. It’s ridiculous. But there is an insane kind of logic to it: If you’re prepared for zombies, you’re prepared for anything.

But the flaws with zombies as a prepping rubric are many. First, zombies don’t exist. Second, it reveals the fact that most preppers are batshit crazy and leads the average person to conclude that basic readiness is the province of the whackjob. Third, zombies as a social trope are useful only to societies which have already collapsed into division. This is why they are so popular in America today: Whoever you are, the “zombies” are the other guys. Democrats, Republicans, blacks, whites, whatever. It’s always empowering to imagine your enemies as skill-less, brain-dead predators who simply can’t understand the invigorating challenge of being alive. Zombies are a mental device used to dehumanize those with whom you disagree and by whom you feel threatened. Rather than considering their humanity, it’s easier to focus on headshots.

If readiness does not enhance your life, you’re doing it wrong. Be ready to experience situations rather than survive them. Be ready to aid others, not to shoot them.

Rather than unlikely dramatic situations, be ready for likely mundane situations. An extended power outage, a trip to the emergency room, a gastrointestinal illness, the flu, the death of someone close, a sudden change in career or home life, car trouble, house trouble, kid trouble, pet trouble, unexpected weather, unexpected expenses. The list could go on for pages, but if you are not ready for these things, you are not ready for life.

And therein lies the difference. Prepping is having 40 pallets of beanie weenies in your basement. Readiness is having an umbrella in your car.

Step One: Be boring

There will be no Rambo fantasies here. If there is a global holocaust, our task is to die well. But in the much more likely case of a slow grind into authoritarianism and terror, our task is to live well. And living, as we all know, is basically a practice of mundane chores.

For the vast majority of us, this means growing up and taking responsibility for our spheres of influence. Maintain your assets and limit your liabilities. Nurture friendships and support networks. Steward your property. Seek peace within yourself and for others.

Stay with me, Rambo. Let go of your fantasies. Here are the three most important things you can do.

Secure your life. Start with your online presence. Protect yourself from hackers, blackmailers and mass surveillance. This piece is an excellent long read, and makes the point that Anne Frank might have survived the holocaust if her father hadn’t unwittingly provided the Nazis with the data they needed to justify killing the Frank family.

Contain yourself. Be incredibly careful sharing things on social media. Be even more careful sharing things in real life. Don’t get into political or religious conversations. Take the Bernie stickers off your car. Lower your profile. Determine who you can trust. Who will be there if you need them in the middle of the night? Who is most likely to need you?

Develop good habits. Keep your gas tank half-full. No one plans to go the emergency room. That’s why it’s called the “emergency room” and not just “the room.” Keep your accounts balanced so you know how much you’ve got and how much you owe. When a situation arises, you’ll need liquid assets quickly. Keep your house clean and organized. Sure, you know there’s a first aid kit under the sink. Does the babysitter know? Can your aunt find the fire extinguisher when the Christmas tree goes up? Can you leave the house in a hurry without tripping on a thousand toys? Preppers focus on whether they can field strip a rifle. Normal responsible adults focus on whether their spare tire is inflated and whether there are leaks in the roof.

Save money. For all but the most extreme scenarios, what you need is money. In hard times you’ll be spending a lot, both legitimately and otherwise.

As government becomes more corrupt, cash will become even more of an asset because bribery will become a significant part of our political system. I’m not an economist, but I can look at history and see that only recently and only in developed countries has bribery not been a basic business practice.

So the best preparation you can make is fiscal solvency. What that means is different for everyone, but getting out of debt and keeping an emergency fund in the bank is never bad advice. I’d add to that: cash on hand. As much as you’re comfortable with.

Become healthy. The next thing you should do is get your fat ass in shape. Your AR15 and 300 round loadout won’t help you if you can’t run fifty yards. Your money won’t last if you spend it on medical bills treating preventable conditions. Fitness is the next goal to pursue if you want to avoid becoming a burden on your loved ones.

You don’t need to be a marathon runner, but it would be good to be able to, for example, walk a few miles if your car breaks down. Help a friend move a washer and dryer. Repair your own roof. Chop firewood. These are things normal people do every day, but not things most people do every day. What were common chores two generations ago have become almost solely the domain of the lower classes. The average American is unable to function without modern convenience, which includes the most convenient of all conveniences: Hiring someone else to do it for you.

If you’re buying guns and beanie weenies with money you don’t have and outdoor gear when you never leave your couch, you’re missing the point and you’re part of the problem. Be a responsible adult, because others are going to depend on you before this is over.

But once again, you wouldn’t be reading this if normal precautions were sufficient for our time. Threats become more immediate each day. Your good intentions to lose weight or start an IRA won’t mean much when the power goes out or the bomb goes off.

Step Two: Be ready to stay in your home for two weeks

This covers situations in which utilities and supply chains are cut, or in which egress is not an option. Blizzards, storms, illness, police states, personal financial hardship, nuclear fallout, biological outbreaks, chemical weapons attacks. Unless your home is on fire or flooding, it’s almost always the best idea to shelter in place.

A good first step is following the recommendations of FEMA and the Red Cross. These are mainstream/government organizations, not some rightwing nutjob prepper website. When governments themselves tell you to keep some supplies on hand, it’s wise to listen.

But those organizations typically recommend 72 hour survival kits. That’s simply not enough, and it’s heavy on gear you’ll probably never use, like tourniquets.

I believe that a better way to prepare is to make a list of everything your family buys and uses in a month and then buy 150% of that amount every month. If you eat six jars of peanut butter a month, buy nine. Twelve rolls of toilet paper? Buy 18. So if disaster strikes you’re always prepared for a minimum of two weeks. Supplement with extras like first aid supplies, flashlights, etc.

For the most part, this requires very little maintenance relative to other emergency stock solutions, because you don’t need a damn basement stronghold to keep everything in. The extra stuff goes where you put the regular stuff. There’s just a little more of it. So rather than climb into the attic to inventory your preps like a crazy person, you just glance in the damn cabinet. And that makes it far easier to keep your supplies current and rotate out things that may be expiring soon. And by blending these preparations into your life, rather than keeping them piled in a dark room somewhere, you’re destigmatizing this process. And visitors are much less likely to ridicule you for having extra cheerios, as opposed to ammo cans full of rice in the closet.

Each household will need different supplies. There’s no dao of prepping you need to meditate into. Just consider what you’d want to have if your whole family got the flu and no one could make it to the store, or you’re snowed in, or whatever. Here’s what the Gribley household keeps on hand:

Cash
A well-stocked first aid kit
Two weeks of food and water (2000 calories and one gallon of water per day per person. Stock things you’ll eat even if the world doesn’t go to hell.)
Gatorade or other electrolyte-heavy fluids to treat dehydration (flu/GI bug/yardwork in the sun)
Two weeks of prescription medicines, diapers, baby wipes, etc.
Toilet paper, paper towels and trash bags.
Soap and detergent
Flashlights and extra batteries
Basic home repair supplies
Kerosene heaters and enough kerosene to run them

That’s it! Are we insane? No. Are we ready for zombies? Well, yeah, actually we are, because they don’t fucking exist, you crazy preppers. Stop making sensible people look nuts.

Guess what? You’re done!

But Gribley, what about EMP attacks? What about the Yellowstone super-volcano? Asteroid strikes? Nuclear winter?

Well, then you die. I don’t know what to tell you. You can’t prepare for this type of thing without seriously impacting your actual life. If two weeks of sheltering in place is not enough to ride out the storm, you’re screwed anyway.

If you really want to think long-term, don’t buy thousands of dollars worth of gas masks and heirloom seeds. Talk to your neighbors. Build a network. Learn skills. These are the things that millennial society has lost, and they will be the things we need desperately in the years (months? weeks?) to come.

And once again, let’s restate the goal: You’re not meant to survive this life. You’re meant to love others. Prep just enough to be able to do that in any reasonable outcome, and then live your life.

Step Three: Be ready to leave in ten minutes

The problem with stocking your house with supplies is that all your supplies are in your house. What happens if a situation arises when you’re not home?

This is where things get tricky. Conventional prepper wisdom requires a GHB (Get Home Bag) and an EDC (Every Day Carry) kit. Preppers are crazy, but I think these are useful concepts. Every now and then a blind hog finds an acorn.

We don’t need to conjure societal collapse to envision a scenario in which a bag of useful stuff in the trunk of your car comes in very handy. Ever had car trouble? Ever found yourself over at a friend’s house late at night, maybe not fit for driving? Ever lost your wallet or forgot your deodorant?

This is not about becoming a one-person army stealthily infiltrating the woods for a hundred miles to get back to your AO (that’s Area of Operations for those of you who don’t use military jargon. While we’re on this point, even the military doesn’t use military jargon. It’s preppers. Just preppers.) This is about dealing with things as they come up and moving on with life.

A friend recently separated from his wife, in rather sudden fashion, and is now couch surfing. We’re up late and I ask him if he needs anything. “I’m good, man.” Then he mentions that he’s got to run to the store and buy a toothbrush before he can go to bed tonight.

No, you don’t, here’s a damn toothbrush. We have a dozen in a drawer because there are three of us in the house and one of us likes to throw things in the toilet. It’s a basic implement of life and it costs 88 cents. It will save you a trip to the store at zero-dark-thirty, when you’re dead tired and emotionally strung out.

A generalised 24-hour kit will get you through almost all scenarios you can survive initially. How you carry it and what form it takes is up to you, but these are the basics:

Cash
First-aid
Food and water
Shelter and clothes
Tools
Light
Fire

That sounds like you’re gearing up for a camping trip, but it doesn’t have to feel that way. You could flesh this basic list out into a 50-pound framed backpack, or you could keep it all in a purse. You could spend a thousand bucks or twenty bucks. The iterations are infinite, and if you Google it you’ll find very heated arguments between people who’ve never had to use any of this shit. So here’s my strategy:

I keep a bag in the car with a fairly robust loadout. It’s just a basic navy-blue backpack that I used all through college. Inside I keep a small Red Cross first aid kit, a big bottle of water and some power bars. My “shelter” is a camping-specific emergency bivvy, but at various times it has included a sleeping bag and bedroll. A good multitool. For light I have a headlamp and a flashlight and extra batteries, plus glowsticks. I carry a fire kit with tinder, waterproof matches, a butane light and a firesteel. In addition to this, I have a change of clothes, a tarp, a toiletry kit, a small radio, a water filter, several N95 masks, and cordage. In summer I carry insect repellant and sunscreen, and in winter I carry cold-weather gear.

All this weighs probably 30 – 40 lbs, because I can’t afford fancy ultra-light gear. That’s too heavy to carry into the grocery store. So to supplement the bag I have a few things that are always on my person: A multi-tool, a flashlight, a handkerchief (paper towels usually) and a lighter. I keep the handkerchief in my pocket and everything else on my keychain.

The only disadvantage that I can find to this system is that it makes my keychain heavy. But with only what’s in my pockets, I can bandage a wound, start a fire, see in the dark, and work on stuff. That’s a pretty rewarding cost/benefit ratio.

A Conclusion

Fear is a powerful thing.

I can’t tell you to walk without fear, because I certainly don’t. Nor can I tell you that there’s any amount of preparation that will comfort you.

It comes down to the toothbrush. My friend was ready to walk away from his marriage; he thought it was the right thing to do and he wasn’t going to let the lack of a toothbrush stop him. But there is something that would stop him. The lack of a car? The lack of a job? Fealty to a broken order–or dependence on its infrastructure?

In the time to come we will be asked to comply. We’ll be asked to continue in our social contract. That’s normally a beautiful thing, necessary for civilization. I’d love to live the rest of my life paying my taxes and stopping at stop signs.

But sometimes you have to walk away. Or eventually you’ll cross the line from victim to volunteer, from volunteer to accomplice.

What holds your reins? What can keep you so focused on your own survival that you would ignore that of another? What fear do you carry that keeps you from love? With whom are you in contract, and how do they derive their authority? The answer to those questions will tell you where to start.