Poor Man Survival
Self Reliance tools for
independent minded people…
ISSN
2161-5543
A Digest of Urban
Survival Resources
The
American Experiment is on life support…Preparing for Civil War Against Leftists
Regardless of who wins the elections, American cities will
burn because elements outside of U.S. hell bent on destroying our communities [even Wall Street and
Silicon Valley are in on the coup of American values],
erasing our shared history, and ripping out the roots of our nation, and
replacing it with a perverted communist agenda…Part III
My UK associate, a former MI6 agent [the
same one who warned me in ’16 of the fake Steele dossier used to start a coup
against Trump] tells me of the Deep State snakes ongoing coup efforts funded by
globalist/socialists Soros, Bloomberg, et al and its ties, along with the Biden
family, to Communist China. Due in large
part to media manipulation by these two anti-Americans, he projects Biden’s of
a win at 49%, giving Trump a 47.7% odds.
These globalist are hell-bent
on destroying America and even the indoctrinated socialist youth of America
will rue the day if Biden and his cadre of Communists win.
–>link to previous post here: https://poormansurvivorblog.blogspot.com/2020/10/what-to-do-if-america-turns-socialist.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed:+blogspot/zAXAf+(Poor+Man+Survivor-The+Urban+Survivalist)
Many years later while at Stanford, I ended
up living in a progressive student house. One of the things that made this
house so progressive was the heroic attempt by its students to grow their own
vegetables in the house garden. I couldn’t quite understand these efforts. We
didn’t need food, and nobody had time to genuinely mind the garden, so the
result was meek, half-rotten crops whose main function was to feed local rats
and raccoons. There was something almost sacrilegious in growing food that
systematically went to waste. I looked at it with a mixture of cultural wonder,
sadness, and confusion. It was like raping Mother Earth, stealing from her what
we didn’t need for an empty symbolic gesture of self-righteous grandeur. In
their fashionable quest for sustainability, the students also decided to
cultivate their own compost pile in the backyard, but since nobody had either
the time or the patience to mind it, the compost too became a favorite
playground of all the local rodents, and a constant source of aroma that filled
the air of my small ground-floor room. My mother used to manage her own
compost, too, but as I remember it, it never smelled, and I never saw one rat
frolicking on it in joyful abandon, as they often did on our Stanford compost.
Perhaps it was because my mother sprinkled her compost with soil each time she
put something on it. Or perhaps it was because she would check up on it a few
times a week, aware that it was supposed to feed a good part of her yearly
crops. I don’t know.
Our share was located
a few miles outside of our town and it took us about an hour, hour-and-a-half,
to walk there. My mother made this walk a couple times a week from early spring
to late fall. The season started sometime in late March, early April, and it
always opened with the same ritual. After work, my mother, still dressed in her
office clothes, pushed my stroller slowly through the winding roads by the
riverbank and train tracks. We spotted the first signs of spring, but never
really talked. My mother was always somewhere else, ahead of herself in her
thoughts, stopping only occasionally to fix the straps of her high heels, or to
pick a wildflower that I asked for. My small dog marched bravely next to my
stroller, tangling its leash in its wheels or around my mother’s legs. Once we
got to our share, a huge pile of horse manure that my mother bought from the
local farmer was waiting for us. Spreading the manure was supposed to be my
father’s job, but since it had to be done before the first rain washed all the
nutrients out of it into one spot in the ground, and since my father always
took his time to get around to it, my mother would customarily lose patience
and do it herself. I suspected that my father procrastinated each year on
purpose, fully aware of the fact that she would eventually break down and do it
herself rather than worry about the manure losing its nutritional value.
Republican Candidate’s Home Vandalized With Communist Symbol
And so, each spring,
the ceremony repeated itself. My mother would take off her office clothes, her
high heels, and her wedding band, and change into old jeans and my father’s
plaid flannel shirt. With a gesture worthy of a film noir femme fatale,
she smoked a cigarette while strolling around between patches, checking up on
the soil and the roots of whatever survived the winter: her roses, raspberry
bushes, and trees. Then, she rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, grabbed a dung-fork,
and began spreading the manure neatly all over the ground. Once this was done,
she smoked another cigarette, took the shovel, and flipped the manure over so
that it was now covered with soil. Another cigarette and she grabbed the rake
with which she broke the larger chunks of soil, smoothing it away in
preparation for the spring seedlings. I sat there in my stroller, dressed in
four sweaters, grumpy and whiny, with my dog on my lap, watching my mother
lazily, pointing out the spots she had missed and complaining about the smell
of manure. Once she was done, my mother took off her jeans and her flannel
shirt. She put her office clothes, her wedding band, and her high heels back
on, fixed her hair and her makeup, and washed her hands in the nearby river.
Slowly and silently she pushed my stroller as we went back home for supper,
picking up more wildflowers on our way back. Our dog, bored to death, jumped
around, happy we were going back.
In socialism,
organizing a food co-op with your friends and family is a must. We didn’t know
we were creating co-ops, and there was no official roster as to who exchanges
what, but everyone had a specialty food they produced. My parents’ friends’
in-laws had an apple orchard, so every fall we got a couple of boxes of apples
from them. My mother peeled, diced, and dried them for winter. My aunt Kazia
had a large orchard with cherry trees and raspberry bushes. Every year, my mom
and my aunt Eva, with my three cousins, went to visit Aunt Kazia to pick the
cherries and raspberries. The boys climbed trees and I sat on a little wooden
stool by the raspberry bush, eating most of what I picked. Every year, all
three of my cousins and I got sick from overeating freshly picked cherries and
raspberries. My grandmother had a garden with edible roses. When the rose
flowers were picked, my job was to de-petal them. Once all the petals were
removed, my grandmother made rose jam, by blending them with sugar and a touch
of vanilla. My grandmother’s garden was bulldozed years ago to make room for a
new socialist bungalow, and it’s been over twenty years since I’ve eaten rose
jam. If you’ve never made or eaten rose jam, you’ve missed out on one of life’s
most sensual pleasures. . . .
Ironically, whatever
food we did have, it was 100% all-natural and organic, and not because we were
health conscious, elitist, or obsessed with our longevity. No, there were
simply no fertilizers, hormones, or pesticides that anybody could buy or even
afford. There was only horse manure and compost. I grew up without soda pop and
refined sugar. Without chewing gum and M&M’s, without Lunchables and Gerber
baby foods, without Snickers Bars, Power Bars, and breakfast bars. Without
Pop-tarts, Popsicles, and popcorn. Once in a blue moon, my father bought a
bottle of Pepsi or a tablet of Swiss chocolate from Pewex, a chain of stores
that catered to foreign tourists. Pewex carried Western sweets, drinks, coffee,
and alcohol. You could only shop there with dollars, which meant that only
foreigners could shop there, as it was illegal for any Pole to own dollars. The
fact that owning dollars was illegal didn’t stop anyone from buying them on the
black market to shop in Pewex for birthday sweets and coffee. My father did
too, and so each birthday and holiday was celebrated with a tablet of Swiss
chocolate, which he ceremoniously divided and passed around among us like a
sacred offering.
This Week in
Leftist Violence and Intimidation Vol. 10
6. My first encounter
with the plentiful and the tasteless
When we came to the U.S. the only grocery store we could afford was Aldi, a chain of stores catering to immigrants and food-stamp recipients. If you’ve never been to Aldi, it looks somewhat like a warehouse. For twenty bucks, you can feed a four-person family for a week. The only problem with Aldi’s food is that it has no taste. Whatever we bought, it had no taste. Strawberries tasted like paper, bread tasted like cotton balls, milk tasted like bleach, and ice cream tasted like tissues soaked in sugar. Within my first month on U.S. soil I developed a strange rash, most likely a response of my spoiled body to the avalanche of chemicals it was suddenly asked to process. My mother and I wondered aloud whether American children who were born here ever knew what a real strawberry or real bread should taste like. It seemed incomprehensible that in this richest country in the world, most of its citizens grew up never knowing the taste of real food. Eventually, I got used to tasteless food, and my rashes went away, but eating became a constantly failed search for the lost taste. It took me thirteen years before I could afford the same kind of food I ate as a child. I remember the anticipation I felt when I finally bought my first pint of organic strawberries. Would they taste like those from my mother’s share? Or would they taste like paper? Another irony of socialist life was that though our socialist government was not able to maintain regular delivery of bread or toilet paper to its stores, it had ambitions to produce and deliver luxury goods.
In fact, each country in the socialist bloc proudly exported its own
brand of luxury: Poles had world-class vodka, Russians had Beluga caviar,
Cubans, our friends, had cigars, and Hungarians had their Royal Tokaji
(currently sold online at $500 for a half-bottle). Once in a while, usually for
their anniversary, my parents enjoyed some of these perks of socialist living
as all the countries in the socialist bloc would customarily exchange their
luxury goods at nominal mark-ups. Since I was too young to participate in these
pleasures of adult life, unfortunately, I missed that part. It will probably
take me another thirteen years before sentiment moves me to splurge on Russian
caviar or half a glass of Tokaji. . . .
7. Eating habits here
and there, then and now, and why a 12-step program doesn’t always change your
ways
Depending on the
circumstances you grew up in, you develop different food habits. My
grandmother, who spent her youth in a German labor camp, had a habit of hiding
breadcrumbs in her pockets. My American friends who grew up under capitalism
like to throw food fights. I, who grew up under socialism, developed a habit of
leaving half of my meal on a plate for later, just in case I needed it in the
future. This way, I am always certain to know where my next meal comes from.
When I got married, the habit became less burdensome and, in fact, very much
appreciated by my husband, who, oblivious to my covert prudence, would
gleefully consume whatever I left on my plate. Although with the help of my
all-devouring husband, I managed to 12-step myself out of the habit, there are
still occasional moments when it returns. Three weeks ago, I had dinner with a
friend. It was a nice downtown restaurant with starched white tablecloths and
stainless steel candlesticks, my friend was smiling at me genially, and I never
felt farther away from socialism than I felt at that moment. But then, in the
middle of my meal, the impulse came to stop eating, to leave it for later, just
in case. . .
http://cosmopolitanreview.com/how-i-survived-socialism/
See How Bad it Has Really Gotten…Disturbing!
#ShutDownDC Plans
to Target Republicans During Election-Week Protests
SURVIVAL
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https://1drv.ms/u/s!AgMpmQI6plfXiE_TnqwfWY0uPv3j?e=Vdbq6T
GUERILLA FIGHTING GUIDES
https://1drv.ms/u/s!AgMpmQI6plfXh2Nz_a2opuCDM2Dx?e=2eJnfi
SIDEBAR:
Some
Say It Can’t Happen Here. But Many Never Believed a Pandemic Would Happen
Either.
Civil
disobedience is actually a sign of a functioning democratic society. Thoreau
outlined civil disobedience in Walden Pond as a necessary right when expressed
through passive resistance. Both Gandhi and Martin Luther King espoused passive
resistance as a way to protest without causing damage or harm to others.
Unfortunately,
the right to free speech and to assemble in public to protest is not always
governed by the calm and sound thinking of Thoreau...
9
Ways To Prepare For Civil Unrest
You
may also like...
How
to Prepare for A Riot in Your City
Businesses Board Up in Preparation for Election
Unrest
SEVEN PILLARS OF A COLOR REVOLUTION
A group of former government officials, journalists, senior campaign
managers, along with other anti-Trump folks met this past summer to war-game
the upcoming Presidential election. The group was called Transition Integrity Project (TIP). Some of the dignitaries that attended the
meeting as reported by Wikipedia were:
Seven Pillars of a
Color Revolution | American Partisan
www.americanpartisan.org/2020/09/seven-pillars...
Civil War: How America Could End – Glenn Becktps:/ https://youtu.be/0HaXZgPD1VU/youtu.be/0HaXZgPD1VU
Obama leads the revolution/coup attempts against Trump
even publishing a manual-Organizing for Action.
Just a few
years ago, the mere concept of a Civil War 2.0 seemed like a fantasy. But now,
as tensions have risen and the country has become more unstable, the
possibility of a civil war is on a lot of people’s minds.
As a result, we can no longer just prepare ourselves for the
possibility of a natural disaster or an economic catastrophe. We have to
prepare for the possibility of a civil war as wel. Would you be prepared if
fighting were to erupt in your city?
This video by City Prepping explains how to prepare for an
American Civil War...
Civil
War Preparedness: 4 Choices You Must Make
You
may also like...
7
Signs Civil War Is About To Happen In The U.S.
USEFUL
STUFF…
Our phones are extremely important in a crisis.
They hold
information and special functions that are essential for survival.
Essential
information like important contacts, incoming public alerts, and they give us
online access to survival strategies and life-saving techniques.
Your phone
also has special functions like digital compasses, levels, and even the tiny
flashlight that can be the difference between life or death in a crisis.
Your phone
is that important, and should not be overlooked as an
essential survival device.
THE MAJOR
PROBLEM: Your phone’s power fails quicker than any survival tool you
own.
THE
SOLUTION: Fortunately, when you grab this "forever charger," your
phone will always be charged…available at our storefront!
NEW! Home Circuit Power Saving Device-Save 30—90% on Your
Electric Bill.
Home Circuits Power
Saving Device-Environment Friendly!
…as advertised in Reader’s Digest
Power Electricity Energy Savings Device- 30% or
more Savings 90V-250V 50Hz-60Hz
Easy-to-use---No
Maintenance Provides or a more stable environment for your household electrical
grid…invented in Germany
Free enterprise, limited
government, individual freedom!
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You Can’t Buy Life Insurance After You’re Dead
Not Prepared?
That's Bad News...
You Can’t
Buy Life Insurance After You’re Dead-Prepare NOW for Emergencies…Small radios,
hydrapaks, books, emergency power cell
or solar/battery radio weather radio!
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efforts by shopping my storefront…
A Smoking Frog Feature, Shallow Planet Production
2 comments:
Scary stuff. I do recall you were among the 1st to expose the Clinton's & their fake dossier/Russia hoax crap [should be jailed]...Soros has been pumping millions into his anti-American efforts but as Bloomberg learned...you can't always buy an election. It's shameful so many younger people have been brainwashed into thinking socialism is good-how do we deal w/ morons...I know many of our friends have been stockpiling food, guns, ammo, silver as a 'just-in-case' potential scenario...Pray for our great country-preserve our freedm!
There is a planned coup if Trump wins tomorrow. It includes a calendar of events.
Much of the training has already been conducted and they have perfected many of their tactical maneuvers. This is real.
The big takeaway from all of this is that they will prevent delivery vehicles from getting into cities.
They describe their plans to block UPS, FedEx, USPS, tractor trailers with food supplies, etc.
Their goal is to create such misery around the country that people focus more on how they're going to survive than what's happening to our country and our Constitution.
Don't be shocked to find out that by the end of the first week of November there might not be food on the shelves and other supplies since trucks can’t deliver them.
This is how they plan to shut down the nation.
Either way, stay safe tomorrow and pray for our great nation.
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