I am rewriting "The Chosen." It is easier to rewrite an almost finished story than create a new one. Plus I am finding I really like this story and have already changed it a lot.
Instead of publishing it here I have asked Jim at the Bison Survival Blog if he would run it as a guest post. I don't know if you have been to his blog but I find him very funny and realistic about what may happen. He is a lot better at actual survival knowledge and gear than I ever will be too.
The story should be showing up tomorrow or the next day.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Writers Block
I can not find the words like I once did. I know the stories are there -- I just can't get them to come together enough to make it to the page. One of the problems is I have to work a day job and it is becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything else. I am getting ready to spend 25% plus of my time in training prior to doing a full data migration and network OS switch. In the IT world I have to completely retrain every 5-7 years and this, I think, will be my final major one.
Gardener and the rest of the crew have not gone away -- I hope. I used to love IT and found learning new software and hardware great fun. This time it's a struggle but one I need to do.
Thank you all very much for stopping by and reading.
Gardener and the rest of the crew have not gone away -- I hope. I used to love IT and found learning new software and hardware great fun. This time it's a struggle but one I need to do.
Thank you all very much for stopping by and reading.
Monday, May 16, 2011
What is Honor for a Warrior? Especially in a Collapse?
One of the major slams against the characters I write about is they have "no honor." I have been thinking about that and found I don't understand it. Honor, to me at least, is a code a person lives by. Since this post is in the context of a person trained and equipped to take lives, the emphasis of at least part of it will be on that.
The Honor Code itself, at least to me, has changed over time. It reflects the society as much as the religious beliefs of the people who practice it. I also believe it is an artificial construct, especially now.
Most of you know that honor, the core belief, has stayed the same throughout history. This is in the context of a tribal warrior, the only type of warrior until the rise of the nation state and the industrial age. Nationalism, and borders, are a recent invention. Chivalry, an invention that in my opinion was only given lip service, is something else entirely.
So what is "Honor?"
I believe it is simple. All who are not of your people, and that can be as small as a family group, are the enemy.
Those that are your people will be treated differently than the "Others." You have a code for your people and a code for the "Others." You can extend hospitality and small kindnesses but that is it.
Is killing quickly, and for what may seem trivial reasons the "Others", wrong? No. Not if they are armed and posing as warriors themselves. For if they choose to arm themselves than they should be expected to understand what that means.
There is no honor in killing people from afar. There is no honor in killing the unarmed. That is slaughter. That is murder. Wiping out a village from the air in a machine that was designed for just that is nothing but joining yourself with a machine. No one has value and all are targets.
Since the machines are the tools of those whose policies will bring the collapse why feel like you owe them? Why serve them? Their idea of honor is not respect for the person but rather for vague goals that enrich a few. I see no respect for others in the current concept of honor. A military formation today is a pseudo family and an attempt to manipulate by counterfeiting the warrior groups that existed for millennium.
In a post collapse scenario survival will be tribal. I doubt very seriously that in that context PTSD will be a problem. Why? Because what will be done for easily understandable reasons. We must stop these/this person because they will hurt people I care about if I don't. I am sorry, I may understand what is driving you, and I may respect your skills but my child will eat.
The Honor Code itself, at least to me, has changed over time. It reflects the society as much as the religious beliefs of the people who practice it. I also believe it is an artificial construct, especially now.
Most of you know that honor, the core belief, has stayed the same throughout history. This is in the context of a tribal warrior, the only type of warrior until the rise of the nation state and the industrial age. Nationalism, and borders, are a recent invention. Chivalry, an invention that in my opinion was only given lip service, is something else entirely.
So what is "Honor?"
I believe it is simple. All who are not of your people, and that can be as small as a family group, are the enemy.
Those that are your people will be treated differently than the "Others." You have a code for your people and a code for the "Others." You can extend hospitality and small kindnesses but that is it.
Is killing quickly, and for what may seem trivial reasons the "Others", wrong? No. Not if they are armed and posing as warriors themselves. For if they choose to arm themselves than they should be expected to understand what that means.
There is no honor in killing people from afar. There is no honor in killing the unarmed. That is slaughter. That is murder. Wiping out a village from the air in a machine that was designed for just that is nothing but joining yourself with a machine. No one has value and all are targets.
Since the machines are the tools of those whose policies will bring the collapse why feel like you owe them? Why serve them? Their idea of honor is not respect for the person but rather for vague goals that enrich a few. I see no respect for others in the current concept of honor. A military formation today is a pseudo family and an attempt to manipulate by counterfeiting the warrior groups that existed for millennium.
In a post collapse scenario survival will be tribal. I doubt very seriously that in that context PTSD will be a problem. Why? Because what will be done for easily understandable reasons. We must stop these/this person because they will hurt people I care about if I don't. I am sorry, I may understand what is driving you, and I may respect your skills but my child will eat.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Gardener Fall - Chapter 4 - by nova
Two days later Ninja and I were just outside of camp on our way to run some drills with what I was calling the Scavenger Squad when we heard them. The sound sent a chill down my back. I signed my people to "Hide," and faded myself flat on the ground.
I was in the open and knew better than to run for the closest bushes. I didn't have the time and I sure as hell wasn't going to be caught running across a field by unknown helicopters. Helicopters because it sounded like more than one of them.
I popped my head up like a fucking gopher trying to simultaneously scan the horizon and check my people. Two thirds of my people had made it to some kind of reasonable concealment. The rest, including Ninja were spread out around me. I sure as hell hoped that some deranged dickhead fed hadn't designated this area as a free fire zone. It had to be the feds. No one else could still afford this kind of shit.
They went over us fast and low. The .50 gunner on the door off the big one saw us. No fire, a swooping bank as the Apache in the lead overflew the camp and then pulled up and started climbing.
I knew it was an Apache. Anyone who played online would recognize one. The little stubby wings hung with their death pods while underneath the pilots hung the 30mm canon that always reminded me of a little dick. The other helicopter was a Sea Stallion or something like it. I was remembering how much I hated these death birds as I got to my feet and yelled for Ninja.
While the Apache went high the Sea Stallion banked and came back towards us. That's when I realized it was landing and it planned on doing it damn near on top of me. I brushed myself off and signed the ones in the tree line to stay put. I wanted the rest on me. Hopefully they would understand. I doubted it. I never liked the black plastic guns but the comm stuff was great the army had was great stuff.
Ninja was next to me and staring at the Stallion which was hovering about 500 paces from us. My people were picking themselves up and running towards us from where they had taken cover. The Stallion door gunner was taking this all in. I looked at Ninja who was staring at the them, mouth open, and told him "Better close your mouth dude before you eat a stick."
"What are we going to do G?"
I checked to make sure he closed his mouth before I answered him with, "Greet them, what else?"
The door gunner who had been slowly swinging the barrel tracking people as they moved towards us let it center itself on me. I flipped him off and told the crew "Let's go see what they're selling this week."
I was in the open and knew better than to run for the closest bushes. I didn't have the time and I sure as hell wasn't going to be caught running across a field by unknown helicopters. Helicopters because it sounded like more than one of them.
I popped my head up like a fucking gopher trying to simultaneously scan the horizon and check my people. Two thirds of my people had made it to some kind of reasonable concealment. The rest, including Ninja were spread out around me. I sure as hell hoped that some deranged dickhead fed hadn't designated this area as a free fire zone. It had to be the feds. No one else could still afford this kind of shit.
They went over us fast and low. The .50 gunner on the door off the big one saw us. No fire, a swooping bank as the Apache in the lead overflew the camp and then pulled up and started climbing.
I knew it was an Apache. Anyone who played online would recognize one. The little stubby wings hung with their death pods while underneath the pilots hung the 30mm canon that always reminded me of a little dick. The other helicopter was a Sea Stallion or something like it. I was remembering how much I hated these death birds as I got to my feet and yelled for Ninja.
While the Apache went high the Sea Stallion banked and came back towards us. That's when I realized it was landing and it planned on doing it damn near on top of me. I brushed myself off and signed the ones in the tree line to stay put. I wanted the rest on me. Hopefully they would understand. I doubted it. I never liked the black plastic guns but the comm stuff was great the army had was great stuff.
Ninja was next to me and staring at the Stallion which was hovering about 500 paces from us. My people were picking themselves up and running towards us from where they had taken cover. The Stallion door gunner was taking this all in. I looked at Ninja who was staring at the them, mouth open, and told him "Better close your mouth dude before you eat a stick."
"What are we going to do G?"
I checked to make sure he closed his mouth before I answered him with, "Greet them, what else?"
The door gunner who had been slowly swinging the barrel tracking people as they moved towards us let it center itself on me. I flipped him off and told the crew "Let's go see what they're selling this week."
Friday, May 13, 2011
Gardener Fall - Chapter 3a - by nova
Statler's story was short and simple. He caught him digging through his pack in the tent he shared with his current woman when they both had the time. Thompson? He turned on the charm, flashed the grin, and started talking shit. Watching him I have to admit I liked it when he realized it wasn't going to cut it with the crowd. I saw the flash of amazement but he just switched gears to contriteness and, "I'm really, really sorry." He paused after uttering that and checked the crowd. I saw the first bit of uncertainty when he realized he wasn't getting the reaction he expected. I checked the crowd too, the handful of faces I saw nodding like a bunch of bobble heads with forgiveness I filed away under, "will eat shit if the spoon is pretty enough."
He looked around. For the first time I saw fear. Only for a micro-second, You had to be standing next to him and focused on his eyes to see it as it was gone that fast. Just as fast was the blink of animal cunning I saw followed by his dropping to his knees, stretching out his arms, and with tears running down his face he sobbed, "Please! In the name of Jesus! Forgive me!" I waited a couple of beats, than I reached down, grabbed him by the collar, pulled him to his feet, and told him, "Wrong church Slick."
Max told him, "Look at me Thompson."
I assisted Tompson with his reorientation and told him "Hey. You got snot running out of your nose."
He muttered, "Fuck you Gardener" and wiped some of it away with the back of his hand. I cuffed him lightly on the back of his head and stepped back.
Max told everyone while he stared at Thompson, "Your guilt is obvious. Your groveling is a disgrace. As was your calling..."
Thompson was back on his knees again. I was beginning to wonder if he was really gay. "Please Freya! Spare me!'
Freya looked at him than looked at Max. "It is customary where I come from for a thief to get his hand cut off and then be banished from the people."
Max contemplated what she said. At the same time Thompson yelled "I'll take it!"
I was thinking if this went on much longer I was going to cut his fucking head off myself when Max stepped away from Freya. He looked at the crowd and then Thompson. I took two steps away from him. All Max said was "No." I was glad I had moved when I heard that.
Max drew his .45, shot him in the head, stepped back again and told us, "Donate his weapons and belongings to the common fund." He stood there for a couple of beats while nobody moved or said anything.
"Get back to work. Winter is coming."
I watched him walk away while Cruz began yelling at people to get moving. I headed off in the opposite direction. I know I didn't look back and I was sure Max didn't either.
Edited
He looked around. For the first time I saw fear. Only for a micro-second, You had to be standing next to him and focused on his eyes to see it as it was gone that fast. Just as fast was the blink of animal cunning I saw followed by his dropping to his knees, stretching out his arms, and with tears running down his face he sobbed, "Please! In the name of Jesus! Forgive me!" I waited a couple of beats, than I reached down, grabbed him by the collar, pulled him to his feet, and told him, "Wrong church Slick."
Max told him, "Look at me Thompson."
I assisted Tompson with his reorientation and told him "Hey. You got snot running out of your nose."
He muttered, "Fuck you Gardener" and wiped some of it away with the back of his hand. I cuffed him lightly on the back of his head and stepped back.
Max told everyone while he stared at Thompson, "Your guilt is obvious. Your groveling is a disgrace. As was your calling..."
Thompson was back on his knees again. I was beginning to wonder if he was really gay. "Please Freya! Spare me!'
Freya looked at him than looked at Max. "It is customary where I come from for a thief to get his hand cut off and then be banished from the people."
Max contemplated what she said. At the same time Thompson yelled "I'll take it!"
I was thinking if this went on much longer I was going to cut his fucking head off myself when Max stepped away from Freya. He looked at the crowd and then Thompson. I took two steps away from him. All Max said was "No." I was glad I had moved when I heard that.
Max drew his .45, shot him in the head, stepped back again and told us, "Donate his weapons and belongings to the common fund." He stood there for a couple of beats while nobody moved or said anything.
"Get back to work. Winter is coming."
I watched him walk away while Cruz began yelling at people to get moving. I headed off in the opposite direction. I know I didn't look back and I was sure Max didn't either.
Edited
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Gardener Fall - Chapter 3 - by nova
We ended standing in front of Max and Freya with Statler and Ninja about ten paces away on my left. Everyone else was gathered around us in a half moon with Night and the cadre on my right. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Carol standing in back. Zane and Woof weren't around. Not a surprise. The boy had taken to disappearing for hours with Woof and the girls from the house. Probably hunting lost travelers was my guess.
Max was standing there with his arms crossed and staring a hole into my client while Freya looked bored. We all stood there for a couple of minutes. Long enough that Thompson, with his fidgeting and repeated turning to look at the crowd for support, was getting on my nerves. Max definitely had our attention when he finally decided to get the show on the road.
He told the assembled multitude, "One of our people has been caught stealing from his own people." He paused here, swept the crowd with his eyes and then focused back on Thompson. He continued, "Not out of personal need. That would be wrong but different. A failure of communication because we always take care of our own and everyone of you needs to believe that or be gone. No one goes hungry. No one. No.One. Gets. Left. Behind." I didn't have to turn around to know that heads were nodding by now.
Max had uncrossed his arms, he pointed at Thompson and told us "We can not tolerate theft for personal gain. Any journey down that road ends in a place where the lights go off and we end as strangers tearing at each other to survive the darkness. I know what happened. Because of the seriousness of the crime, and because we are family, I want all of you to know what happened. Statler tell us what brings you here."
Statler, after being prompted by Ninja to turn and face the crowd, told what happened. Thompson had been caught red handed going through Statlers personal effects. All he taken was the gold that it was Statlers responsibility to safeguard for his platoon. Usually that wouldn't be that much as individuals kept their personal kills belongings and than gave to whoever they felt like.
An entire honor system was evolving around that practice with unspoken rules. No one kept everything from a kill. That had become taboo. Instead there was more public honor and respect gained by giving away. Of course if you came across gold and jewelry you hung on to most of it. Especially if you had a woman. Hell, that's what helped you get one.
You also cemented ties with your platoon by giving weapons or other goodies to those who needed it or you personally liked. The rest was given to Shelli to be given to newcomers and to those in the larger group who may be in need. Only lately had the practice of giving a small amount to the platoon or squad leader begun. He or she held it with the expectation that should their group decide to buy something it would be funded from that. If we ever came across a town with functioning bars I expected most of it to disappear into a happy bar owners purse. Statlers squad was good and lucky. They had been rich as a group. I was surprised by how much they had managed to squirrel away.
Max was standing there with his arms crossed and staring a hole into my client while Freya looked bored. We all stood there for a couple of minutes. Long enough that Thompson, with his fidgeting and repeated turning to look at the crowd for support, was getting on my nerves. Max definitely had our attention when he finally decided to get the show on the road.
He told the assembled multitude, "One of our people has been caught stealing from his own people." He paused here, swept the crowd with his eyes and then focused back on Thompson. He continued, "Not out of personal need. That would be wrong but different. A failure of communication because we always take care of our own and everyone of you needs to believe that or be gone. No one goes hungry. No one. No.One. Gets. Left. Behind." I didn't have to turn around to know that heads were nodding by now.
Max had uncrossed his arms, he pointed at Thompson and told us "We can not tolerate theft for personal gain. Any journey down that road ends in a place where the lights go off and we end as strangers tearing at each other to survive the darkness. I know what happened. Because of the seriousness of the crime, and because we are family, I want all of you to know what happened. Statler tell us what brings you here."
Statler, after being prompted by Ninja to turn and face the crowd, told what happened. Thompson had been caught red handed going through Statlers personal effects. All he taken was the gold that it was Statlers responsibility to safeguard for his platoon. Usually that wouldn't be that much as individuals kept their personal kills belongings and than gave to whoever they felt like.
An entire honor system was evolving around that practice with unspoken rules. No one kept everything from a kill. That had become taboo. Instead there was more public honor and respect gained by giving away. Of course if you came across gold and jewelry you hung on to most of it. Especially if you had a woman. Hell, that's what helped you get one.
You also cemented ties with your platoon by giving weapons or other goodies to those who needed it or you personally liked. The rest was given to Shelli to be given to newcomers and to those in the larger group who may be in need. Only lately had the practice of giving a small amount to the platoon or squad leader begun. He or she held it with the expectation that should their group decide to buy something it would be funded from that. If we ever came across a town with functioning bars I expected most of it to disappear into a happy bar owners purse. Statlers squad was good and lucky. They had been rich as a group. I was surprised by how much they had managed to squirrel away.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Gardener Fall - Chapter 2d - by nova
"You got lucky Thompson. I'm your lawyer." He didn't seem pleased. In fact he went pale. I laughed. "C'mon," I told him. "Lets go see the Judge."
"You got to be shitting me. Max is the Judge?"
"Yep."
He went paler. I grinned at his reaction and said, "C'mon pale face. The Chief is waiting." He didn't get it. Instead of yukking it up with me he looked like he wanted to run.
"Bad idea. You can run but you wont get far. Plus your innocent. What can go wrong?"
He looked at me and tried to grin. He couldn't quite pull it off. Even with the great teeth it looked like the rictus of a man dying in great pain. An appropriate response, just a little early.
"You got to be shitting me. Max is the Judge?"
"Yep."
He went paler. I grinned at his reaction and said, "C'mon pale face. The Chief is waiting." He didn't get it. Instead of yukking it up with me he looked like he wanted to run.
"Bad idea. You can run but you wont get far. Plus your innocent. What can go wrong?"
He looked at me and tried to grin. He couldn't quite pull it off. Even with the great teeth it looked like the rictus of a man dying in great pain. An appropriate response, just a little early.
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