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Thanks for clarifying the rape gang thing 108arms, my OP was a little vague. Maybe I should have added "hunt slave traders, cannibals, and bandits" too, but that would be a full time job. :s0131:

I'm really really curious what motivates people because it shapes how they react to a crisis. Self preservation is important but it's not very special because all life has it. IMHO, simple self preservation is not enough, because by itself it can lead to cannibalism, robbery, or joining some bloody warlord's private army. (Actually, those 3 aren't so different. . .)

So what is it, BESIDES instinctual self preservation, that guides you?
 
nice one lefty!! target shooting!

Im surviving for my family and my right to live on this Planet

as far as #2 goes, LOL, the rape gangs will exist. and probably immediately. I've seen the beginnings of that before. when chaos strikes, sickos feel like they can get away with anything. Naturally, men will go for the sex then the food. Im going to live to protect my kids, and wife and anyone else from these useless non-humans. But trust me, Im praying in my own way, that our fears never materialize!

The crazy part I can't figure out is how these assclowns always manage to find each other and then travel in packs. Mostly seems like a good argument for high capacity mags to me.

-d
 
The crazy part I can't figure out is how these assclowns always manage to find each other and then travel in packs. Mostly seems like a good argument for high capacity mags to me.

-d

I have several theories but the one I am sticking with is they (the criminal element) are more frontal lobe thinkers and have made enough poor choices in their lives, they have shut down the part of the brain where the brain is supposed to fire the neurons to see the consequences of their actions. Instead all they see are the instant gratification from their potential actions and proceed forward with whatever they conjure up. It is funny how they do find each other and fall into a pack mentality/formation. Look for the Alpha and take him out first. The rest will run or fight each other on the spot to restablish dominance, which they will spend more energy on their own agenda than focus on you. Seize the oppurtunity and hunt them like dogs. No remorse but do make peace with whatever higher power you choose before and after. Also since you are not "them" you should be respectful of there remains.

SF-
 
so that when i ride into town past the mummified bodies and derelict vehicles, I can look longingly into the sky. The movement of the birds will calm me as I see they are unruffled. riding down the main street, my horse kicks up tiny dirt devils with each plod of her hoof, I weave between the wreckage, always wary. When i dismount and go into the shattered drug store, all i will want is neosporin or hydrogen peroxide.. and maybe this time I'll find some. As I walk back, my saddle bag a little fuller, I will notice a guitar store half a block up. I unsheath my 30-30, and hop, skip, and jump over the detritus of a nation to the still intact glass doors, and after a few minutes, get them pushed open, and walk slowly, admiringly, past the shining instruments still hanging where a long forgotten salesperson arranged them years ago. Jostling my rifle to my other hand, i'll select a beautiful taylor jumbo body acoustic twelve string, it's finish immaculate beneath a fine patina of dust.
Out in the street, after a quick tune and a moment to let the guitar adjust to the change in temperature, I'll play a slow fingerpick bluesy tune, maybe Hesitation Blues or something by Ry Cooder. As the notes jangle down the empty streets, and the sun casts long shadows on the concrete, I'll lean the guitar against a fire hydrant, it's top spun off and the rusty pipe long since dry... there will be another guitar in another store, no need to pack that one, and no new generation of players waiting in the wings. A dull orange glow seven stories up across town lets me know I'm not the only one in the city, and my horse and I quietly slip out the way we came, back to the tumbleweeds and twisted mesquite, where the blowing sands conceal our tracks and any direction is as good as another, and every morning brings us closer to the suns inevitable set on humanities brief reign on earth.
 
The crazy part I can't figure out is how these assclowns always manage to find each other and then travel in packs.-d

I hope that is how it would be, and am particularly hopeful they travel on loud bikes like in the SHTF movies. Lets see... Loud bikes announce in advance that they are coming up the road. Do you:

A) Run away screaming in fear and/or get shot/plundered/raped like in the movies?

OR

B) Set up an ambush. Shoot the ones in front, then mow the rest down in the chaos that results from the ones in back crashing into the fallen ones in front?

Tough decision.
 
I hope that is how it would be, and am particularly hopeful they travel on loud bikes like in the SHTF movies. Lets see... Loud bikes announce in advance that they are coming up the road. Do you:

A) Run away screaming in fear and/or get shot/plundered/raped like in the movies?

OR

B) Set up an ambush. Shoot the ones in front, then mow the rest down in the chaos that results from the ones in back crashing into the fallen ones in front?

Tough decision.

Hmm... How about avoid contact, if they see you, break contact when possible, setup a hasty ambush as you move back, break, move, break, move... Stay alive and avoid firefights when possible?

Your scenario gave no reason to engage into a firefight!

What is this, a Movie? :winkkiss:
 
so that when i ride into town past the mummified bodies and derelict vehicles, I can look longingly into the sky. The movement of the birds will calm me as I see they are unruffled. riding down the main street, my horse kicks up tiny dirt devils with each plod of her hoof, I weave between the wreckage, always wary. When i dismount and go into the shattered drug store, all i will want is neosporin or hydrogen peroxide.. and maybe this time I'll find some. As I walk back, my saddle bag a little fuller, I will notice a guitar store half a block up. I unsheath my 30-30, and hop, skip, and jump over the detritus of a nation to the still intact glass doors, and after a few minutes, get them pushed open, and walk slowly, admiringly, past the shining instruments still hanging where a long forgotten salesperson arranged them years ago. Jostling my rifle to my other hand, i'll select a beautiful taylor jumbo body acoustic twelve string, it's finish immaculate beneath a fine patina of dust.
Out in the street, after a quick tune and a moment to let the guitar adjust to the change in temperature, I'll play a slow fingerpick bluesy tune, maybe Hesitation Blues or something by Ry Cooder. As the notes jangle down the empty streets, and the sun casts long shadows on the concrete, I'll lean the guitar against a fire hydrant, it's top spun off and the rusty pipe long since dry... there will be another guitar in another store, no need to pack that one, and no new generation of players waiting in the wings. A dull orange glow seven stories up across town lets me know I'm not the only one in the city, and my horse and I quietly slip out the way we came, back to the tumbleweeds and twisted mesquite, where the blowing sands conceal our tracks and any direction is as good as another, and every morning brings us closer to the suns inevitable set on humanities brief reign on earth.

And this book hits store shelves.... when? :D
 
Is it better to go out young and strong in a blaze of glory or die old and weak, laying in a 'nursing' home bed, peeing and pooping all over yourself, alone because you can not remember the people around you now and everybody you can remember is already dead?
 
Is it better to go out young and strong in a blaze of glory or die old and weak, laying in a 'nursing' home bed, peeing and pooping all over yourself, alone because you can not remember the people around you now and everybody you can remember is already dead?

Funny you ask. As a manager of a dept that requires real MEN to accomplish the goals set by my boss i meet a lot of MALES that think they are up for the job. What a joke! I would rather have one 40 year old MAN on the job than two 20 year old MALES! Nothing personal meanmike, I hear a lot of "I" "I" "I" "ME" "ME" "ME" crap from the 20 something generation. Most have no guts, no balls and no heart! If this is you? Take it for what it is. If not, pass it on to the 95% of your generation that has no idea.

Lefty.
 
Don't think they will be on bikes...probably lowriders, or maybe max. :D

I never thought of that! NW PDX SHTF rape/pillage gangs that take max to the burbs, then hop on their bicycles or Prius' to rape/plunder the unprepared suburbanites. Or SE lowrider gangs who converge on us at warp speed (10mph under posted speed limit). Either way I am prepared. I'll just fire up the chansaw and drop a 6" tree in their path. You bugout folks won't have to worry about those devils coming your way - we bugin folks will stop 'em in their tracks!:gun09:
 
Funny you ask. As a manager of a dept that requires real MEN to accomplish the goals set by my boss i meet a lot of MALES that think they are up for the job. What a joke! I would rather have one 40 year old MAN on the job than two 20 year old MALES! Nothing personal meanmike, I hear a lot of "I" "I" "I" "ME" "ME" "ME" crap from the 20 something generation. Most have no guts, no balls and no heart! If this is you? Take it for what it is. If not, pass it on to the 95% of your generation that has no idea.

Lefty.

What does this have to do with my post??? :huh:

In my 30+ years of being an employee, manager, and now boss, I have found that employee motivation (guts, balls, heart as you put it) comes from the managers and the bosses. People do not work for just a paycheck, they work for self esteem, pride, and recognition. Maybe you should look into your management style. :s0131:

My post was to imply that a person should take a risk and enjoy life, do the things they want to do, because one way or the other, the end is going to happen and it is not going to be comfortable.
 
What does this have to do with my post??? :huh:

In my 30+ years of being an employee, manager, and now boss, I have found that employee motivation (guts, balls, heart as you put it) comes from the managers and the bosses. People do not work for just a paycheck, they work for self esteem, pride, and recognition. Maybe you should look into your management style. :s0131:

My post was to imply that a person should take a risk and enjoy life, do the things they want to do, because one way or the other, the end is going to happen and it is not going to be comfortable.

I agree with you 100% one should take risks and enjoy life. I do! I also agree with you 100% TS is going to HF. Your assessment of that time was a very generous one of the pain and sacrifice we will all be living with. My point is, most of the younger generation have had everything handed to them, taught that nothing they do wrong is there fault and everything they want or need is owed to them.

At the ripe old age of 38 I have been supervising people or managing a department for 15 years or so. My guys would kill for me (past and present) as I would for them. I'm the first one in and the last one out. I do have a couple of "20 somethings" and they have there s*** together. I will spent as much time as needed to teach them a certain job. But if there walking around with one of those "How are you feeling today" charts in there pockets I have no time.

Back to the OP, "Why do you want to survive?" It would be interesting to see how this thread would read if there was an age limit.

Lefty.
 

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