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July 15, 2014

As hard times go, these are the good days.

Ahead, stretching to the horizon, lies deepest 1932 but without the civility and yes, without the relative plenty.
The Great Depression will be something to aspire to, where even migrant field hands drove cars to work. Actually it doesn't all lie ahead, some of it is already behind us. Truth is, we arrived a while back. We're like the Okies in that first month without a good rain, or the laid off employee who thought he was between jobs. The era of hustle and opportunity that lifted all boats ended a long while ago. We've fallen below the event horizon. Gravity is in charge now. We've entered an era of relentlessly deepening want. In not much time it will beggar belief, then plunge directly to the heart of catastrophe. You'll never again use the word hungry as lightly as you do now.
ol remus and the woodpile report

Posted by gerardvanderleun at July 15, 2014 11:04 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.

Your Say

Ah, a little light reading to cheer us up in these dark times.

Posted by: StephenB [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 15, 2014 12:57 PM

where even migrant field hands drove cars to work.

Ha, ha. My grandfather got up at 2AM and walked ten miles to feed chickens. The family did have a car at that point, but it wasn't for that. Not too much earlier they moved using a covered wagon.

Posted by: chuck [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 15, 2014 1:28 PM

Lemme guess.
He was barefoot, in the snow, and it was uphill both ways? j/k

Hopefully he brought a chicken back for supper.

If people today had to do what people had to do in 1932, about 80% would perish. Does anyone doubt that?

Posted by: ghostsniper [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 15, 2014 2:08 PM

He was barefoot, in the snow, and it was uphill both ways?

He was reputed to be a great walker ;)

Posted by: chuck [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 15, 2014 3:00 PM

The thought of another great depression horrifies me.

I hear the stories of how hard it was for my parents and grandparents, people who could live off the land and fend for themselves, and can't even imagine how today's average American could survive it.

Posted by: B Moe [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 15, 2014 6:17 PM

B Moe, It is Paul Ehrlich's dream idea of population control.

But you're right; when the grocery store shelves go bare, they'll be out with butterfly nets looking for free range chicken parts in Styrofoam boats and the elusive organic asparagus.

Posted by: Vermont Woodchuck [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 16, 2014 8:20 AM

It will be a good way to cull the herd. The weak, and they are many, will fall by the wayside.

Posted by: chasmatic [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 16, 2014 9:26 AM

My crystal ball sucks, but it certainly looks like we're headed for a pretty disastrous fall. God may yet have mercy, but we surely do not deserve it.

Posted by: Christopher Taylor [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 16, 2014 10:43 AM

Uphill both ways?
Consider: He lives in a longhouse located on a cone-shaped hill. One narrow side faces downward and the other faces toward the cone's peak.
He leaves the house near the bottom, winds his way upward to the chicken house, leaves, continuing to walk uphill to his home's upper end entrance.
As Gene Autrey (Autry?) or Roy Rogers would sing, "Entrails to you ..."!

Posted by: Stug Guts [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 16, 2014 10:28 PM

"...uphill both ways."
Consider: His home is a single-story longhouse, located on a cone-shaped hill, a narrow side facing downhill and the other narrow side facing uphill. He leaves his house at the lowest point, walks uphill winding his way to the chicken house, then leaves, continuing to walk uphill to the upper entrance of his longhouse.

Posted by: Stug Guts [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 16, 2014 10:33 PM

Remus connects me back to my early years, helps me to understand why all the regular folks kept going even as Galt tore it down around them. Every day may be my last, the world may fall, but by God I will live it with vigor and pride in my work.

I can't let it go. I like what I'm doing, I'm finally good at it, it's in one of the few industries that we remain the world's leader, and are even getting better and stronger. I can see many years yet of the work that I promised myself as a boy. I will stay in the arena for as long as I can. "Retreat? Hell! We just got here."

I live with our backs to a wall and a whole lot of folks in front of us. We won't be able to escape. Our whole local community is practically indefensible. So is our neighborhood, so is the house we live in. When they realize the jig is up, they'll come for us.

There are a few minor chokepoints, but we would have to have large stockpiles of SAWs and ammo. We'd melt all the barrels, the road barricades would be of bodies, and it still wouldn't be enough. Our attackers would have the police on their side. We don't have RPG's and AAW. Unlike the Minutemen, the Redcoats have confiscated our powder and arms long ago. They will break through and burn us out.

Remus is Galt. Do it now, get out to a place where you can wait. If you don't not even God can say what will be your fate. But I can't, I won't give this up. If the culler comes, then let it come, and I will deal with it. Never give in, never surrender.

Posted by: John A. Fleming [TypeKey Profile Page] at July 18, 2014 1:10 AM

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