Quarantine Diary, Day 79
Everyone has an idealized vision of themselves. A version of them that they know they could be if they just had the drive and commitment to hone every facet of their being into this perfect self. A tiny, TINY portion of the human race actually accomplishes this, becoming their ultimate self. An even smaller portion pulls this off without planting the seeds of their own future destruction.
I myself, for instance, have an idealized notion of myself as some kind of road-wise Mad Maxian nomad survivor/warrior who lives by his wits, his .45's and his motherfucking reliable-ass Toyota 4x4. Dealing out justice with his well maintained firearms and high level marksmanship. Escaping road gangs by clever improvised pursuit countermeasures, sheer driving guts and vehicle capability; harvesting precious gasoline whenever possible.
My Apocalypse cat, Fuji, by my side. Stalking the ruins. Eking out an existence by sheer grit and and a plethora of useful skills. Our senses and instincts making us stronger than the sum of our parts.
The reality is that when society breaks down and ravenous, desperate people begin going door to door and taking by force whatever they can take. When killing becomes something that happens without consequence except those you make in your own mind. When the only thing that stands between you and any single fucking thing you own is your ability to defend it.
That's where the mental avatar of myself as a freebooting, vehicular-centric warrior/survivor goes in the shitter.
While I'd LIKE to be a Road Warrior, forever prowling the wasted landscape in search of gas, ammo and spare parts in my fearsome armored and sweet looking 'Yota, I have none of the requisite skills required to survive even to the point where some Road Warrior kinda shit becomes plausible. I can barely change my oil, much less diagnose and fix a serious problem. I get frustrated easily and and tend to take it out on stuff that's pissing me off, causing more damage than what I was trying to fix.
In reality, I see myself more as an 'Dying Towards the End of the Second Wave' kinda guy. You know, someone who has survived the massive first wave die out of the human race by the simple expedient of having enough water and grub to last more than a month. And who was prepared and successful in defending their stuff against those who'd run out and were willing to take what they needed from anyone they could.
About four to six weeks after supply chains have completely broken down, power grids and cell service is out and water service is a thing of the past, there will a humongous 'First Wave' die-off on Earth, primarily in dense population centers. I don't have the numbers and to be fair, they're all just estimates and model projections anyway. No one can accurately calculate the death toll because a break down of systems combined with a population of these numbers HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.
No one can predict the chaos that will ensue.
It will be like God kicking over the universe's biggest anthill. Shit'll get crazy fast.
What I will say is after this First Wave, things are going to get WAY MORE fucked up. While I have the wherewithal to potentially survive the First Wave, I will undoubtedly succumb to the Second Wave. This is where people with the initial supplies and resources to get by until now begin running out of stuff and having to make critical decisions.
Choices such as:
-Do I simply start killing people for their shit?
-How many canned goods are a human life worth?
-Am I hungry enough to eat a dog?
-Am I hungry enough to eat another human?
-Am I hungry enough to eat another human without some decent marinade or dry rub options?
-Is life without electricity, vodka, hamburgers and online porn even worth going through the trouble?
-How can I take out as many people who have wronged me as I can before circumstances kill me or force me to kill myself?
These will become very important options to some folks before their inevitable demise.
While I'm willing to stand amidst the chaos and defend every last can of Hormel Tamales that I have stashed despite how they taste, once my shit is gone and I begin to starve, I can't rightly say what I'll do. Never been there before, starvation that is. Been hungry, but hungry and starving aren't as close of neighbors as you'd think.
Would I just straight up eat another human? Perhaps a tender feral baby if I could manage to trap one of the clever little devils?
I'm hoping I never get hungry enough to find out. but, truth be told, I do keep a secret supply of soy sauce on hand for marinade in case I ever have to eat people cutlets.
And remember folks, if you're going to start using humanity as a food source, for fuck's sake use the whole animal. Don't be a wasteful cunt.
Render the fat for lamp oil and waterproofing. Harvest the skin; it makes great leather and scares other people silly. Bones have too many uses to list. The point is, as with the Native Americans and bison, people aren't just meat so don't treat them that way. Have some fucking respect, ya fuckin cannibal.
So thinking long term, in the unlikely event I live that long. I've been considering possible business opportunities in a Post-Everything America. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, things don't look great. But in the end, I came up with the following ideas:
Uncle Herdy's Sharp Sticks™: I know, it doesn't sound great right now but branding is everything and as worldwide ammunition supplies dry out and mass production ceases, a sharp stick starts looking more and more attractive. It was the weapon of choice of tens of thousands of years because it's a proven two step system: A) Stab pointy end into enemy. B) Repeat as necessary. Or even, for advanced users. C) Throw the fucking thing.
Even idiots can use one.
I feel like if the end of civilization advances to a certain point, people might start looking more kindly on an expertly made Sharp Stick. Hell, if we regress far enough they may even become a sort of status symbol:, like
"Hey. is that an original Uncle Herdy ya got there?"
"Sure is. I had to kill SO MANY people to get it, but it was totally worth it! Bludgeons like a dream, bro!"
Another equally promising idea I had was Darwin Jerky™.*1 In other words human jerky marketed to people who don't want to believe they're eating human flesh and are completely prepared to buy into the narrative of me somehow still having a cattle ranch somewhere with cows on it or some such nonsense. Nobody without a small army has cows anymore. Certainly not in enough numbers to make a commercially available jerky.
But with enough smoke flavoring, red dye and milled texturing, I'm confident folks will love it and any doubts they have will be rapidly alleviated by their hunger pangs going away and that adorable flavor I've concocted out of various shit laying around. And maybe some heroin I found.
Whatever. A small business man will need an edge in Post-Everything America. If I can get people to eat my brand of human meat sprinkled in heroin while masquerading as a pork or beef product, I'm gonna do it.
We'll have to see how far society breaks down before I begin implementing my business plan. I'm probably gonna label it "Organic" just in case a few hippies survive the imminent madness. Broadest commercial appeal and whatnot.
Everything's gonna be just fine, you just wait and see.
-Uncle QuaranHerder
DARWIN jerky
Don't Arsk What's IN It
*1 DARWIN is my abbreviation for "Don't Ask 'Really, What's IN it'?"
