Article – The Food Expiration Dates You Should Actually Follow

From the NY Times. If you can’t get to it because of a paywall, try clearing your browsers cache and then try the link again. Or open a different browser and cut/paste the link.

With most of us quarantined in our homes, chances are you’ve been reacquainting yourself with the forgotten spices and fusty beans from the depths of your pantry. But how fusty is too fusty? When is the right time to throw something out? And what about fresh ingredients? If I’m trying to keep supermarket trips to a minimum, how long can my eggs, dairy and produce keep?

Here’s the first thing you should know: Expiration dates are not expiration dates.

Decent article explaining what most of use should already know: those dates on most foods (though not all) are fairly meaningless. Speaking as someone who routinely eats canned/dry/frozen food that is years old, I can tell you that anything other than high-acid foods (pineapple, tomato products, etc) will last a lot longer than the date on the can. A lot longer. Like, several years.

However, that is no substitute for rotating through your stocks just to keep everything topped off and fresh. For canned goods, I use these and have find them quite handy.

Article – The man who refused to freeze to death

I know that even in the supposedly warm climes like Afghanistan the temperatures can drop to killer levels of cold. Now, imagine how cold it can get in places that are actually traditionally considered to be cold places. Then add in some wet clothes. And you have a recipe for disaster. Unless you’re this guy:

Heimaey is the largest of the Westman Islands, an archipelago south of Iceland mostly inhabited by puffins. On Stórhöfði peninsula, at the southernmost point of Heimaey is an outcrop that juts into the Atlantic Ocean. The local weather station here claims to be one of the windiest places in Europe.

It was here, in the early hours of March 12 1984, that 23-year-old Guðlaugur Friðþórsson stumbled towards salvation. His bare feet were bleeding from deep cuts caused by the volcanic rock hidden beneath the snow, his clothes soaked in seawater and frozen to his body. He should have already died several times over, but something deep inside Friðþórsson propelled him forwards.

An interesting article that explores the mechanics of freezing to death and, interestingly, the mechanics of not freezing to death. I did find this part very illuminating:

“When you come out of the water you get evaporative cooling,” says Tipton. “This is a really potent way of losing heat from the body.” Ordinarily you would want to strip off and put dry clothing on, but in the absence of that, climbing into a large plastic bag will reduce evaporative cooling and convective cooling.

“If you get someone wet at 4C and they have got a litre of water in their clothing; if all of that water evaporates they are going to have a fall in body temperature of 10C,” says Tipton. “If you put them through the same scenario and then put them in a plastic bag they can use their body to heat up that water. It is contained in the bag so it cannot evaporate away. Those people lost half a degree, so they were 20 times better off.”

Seems like everyone in hunting camp carries those deck-of-card-sized thin mylar ‘space blankets’. Turns out, according to this article, that you might be better served with a big ol’ contractor-grade garbage bag. Personally, I rather like these. But what I’m a bigger fan of is a gigantic conflagration that lights up the countryside like some sort of flaming hellscape. Problem is, of course, that if you wait until you’re freezing to death to build a fire you’re going to freeze to death because your manual dexterity and clear-headedness went out the window a few seconds after you fell through the ice. That’s where things like these come in handy. In practice, I go way overboard on flammables when it comes to packing stuff for wandering through hills….flares, fuel cubes, lifeboat matches, waxed dryer lint, and, if I have room for it, a tiny fuel bottle of kerosene. Except for the small fuel bottle, everything fits in an M4 pouch which means there’s no reason to leave it behind anytime you step off the pavement. Whatever you wind up packing, make your choices with an eye towards having hands that are so frozen you can barely manipulate your fingers… big, clumsy, fumbling movements will be the order of the day when need a fire now..plan accordingly.

But, back to the article at hand, freezing to death (or hypothermia, if you want to get technical, I suppose) apparently doesn’t have to be your fate if you can keep a clear head, a little extra poundage around the abdomen, and make good decisions. Of course, dressing for the occasion also comes in handy…wool, synthetics, etc.

And don’t let the calendar fool you….lotsa people die of hypothermia in August. All it takes is a fast summer thunderstorm, a steady blowing wind, and maybe some cool temps at a high altitude and you are in big trouble.

Identity survivalism?

I’ve known quite a few survivalists over the years. Some better than others, but all survivalists, of some stripe, nonetheless. I’ve known left-handed survivalists, brown-eyed survivalists, and I’ve even known a bald survivalist. Now, if you re-read that last sentence you are, I would imagine, asking yourself “WTF cares about a survivalist being brown-eyed?” or some similar thought. I phrased it that way because I kinda get that some “WTF cares?” when I see articles about [gay/black/female/insert marginalized group] survivalists. Case in point:I Tried To Keep Up With Black Survivalists Who Are Ready For Any Disaster.

Do black survivalists keep different blankets in their car during the winter than white survivalists? (I asked this question rhetorically to someone and then flippantly followed it up with ‘although I suppose they don’t keep as many white sheets as the white survivalists’. Bad Zero, bad.) Do black survivalists use different brands of home canning equipment than white survivalists? Do black survivalists stockpile different mouthwash, batteries, band-aids, and bleach than white survivalists? Pretty much no. So why the need to identify as ‘black survivalist’? (as an aside, the article features a link to Aton Edwards, whom we first met waaaaaay back here)

I suppose the seemingly rational answer might be “Well, black populations earn less than white populations, live in completely different (meaning urban) environments than white populations, and face great disparity in how they are treated.” Ignoring, for a moment, that attributing particular traits and qualities to a particular demographic based solely on race is…well..pretty much the textbook definition of racism…..so what? Aren’t there plenty of ‘other’ that also earn less, live elsewhere, and get treated poorly?

I’ve met gay survivalists, female survivalists, Asian survivalists, and while I have never met a black survivalist (the odds are pretty strong against it in a state as homogenous as mine) I cannot fathom that we’d get along any differently than if we both racked the same numbers on the Pantone chart.

I’m not sure why anyone needs (or wants) to throw a self-descriptive adjective before the term ‘survivalist’ when identifying themselves (gay survivalist, black survivalist, wiccan survivalist, Armenian survivalist, flatulent survivalist, etc.) You’re a survivalist…period, full stop.

I suppose the one reason that might have some merit is to meet and join with ‘like’. The gay survivalist wants to associate with other gay survivalists, the Asian survivalist wants to hang with other Asian survivalists, etc. People, broadly, tend to be more ‘at home; with people who mirror themselves in some way…beliefs, race, orientation, age, etc…..so I suppose that could be a reason. But, generally speaking, just call yourself a ‘survivalist’ and leave it at that. After all no one responds to questions about their occupation with “Im an Italian accountant”, “I’m a Lutheran plumber”, “I’m a male housepainter”, “I’m a Jewish insurance claims adjuster”.

Identity politics has already led to all sorts of nonsense and problems…why bring it into survivalism?

Article – Preparing For The End Of The World, On A Budget

From, of all places, NPR……

At first glance, this modest home nestled against a hillside in the mountains somewhere west of Colorado Springs appears to have all the amenities you’d expect in a quiet retreat. There’s even a two-story tower built right in. An otherwise peaceful place to catch the 360-degree view of winter’s splendor.

“[It’s a] really nice place to sit and vacation — enjoy. But, if necessary, it’s a guard post,” Drew Miller pointed out.

The last two paragraphs are a bit…concerning.

I’ve mentioned in the past that these ‘tactical timeshares’ are, IMHO, of questionable utility. I would prefer not to ride out the apocalypse with the equivalent of the ten people standing in line behind me at the post office. It’s probably quite true that in a genuine apocalypse you are better served being in a group than as a solo player, but that group needs to be people that you trust and have a connection with. “Hey, I don’t want to die..and you don’t want to die..so, we’re all on the same page!” is not a connection. You need a history, a relationship, a shared life to some degree….. that means family, or close friends, and from there the bonds get more and more tenuous. Maybe you don’t get along with your family, or maybe they’re all Democrats who think Bernie and his Free Stuff Army are the way to go. Fine, then develop close friends. Not the casual ones at work, I mean close friends… the ones you trust to watch your kids, to hold onto the spare keys to your house, that sort of thing.

I suppose there might be some people who have had success just posting a ‘Looking for survival group” sorta thing on Craigslist but I’m going to guess thats a very, very, very small list.

Your mileage may vary, but I’m not riding out the apocalypse with strangers whose history I am unfamiliar with.

Onion storage

Perhaps I haven’t looked as intently as I should, but doesn’t it seem like that among all the canned vegetables out there in the supermarket there is a notable lack of canned onions?

Oh, you can buy a bottle of itty bitty cocktail onions. And you can buy onion powder, onion salt, onion rings, freeze dried onion, dehydrated onion, and that sort of thing…but…no actual canned onions. I can walk down the vegetable aisle and find canned potatoes, canned tomatoes, canned peas, canned green beans, canned corn, canned beets, canned everything…but not onions.

When the apocalypse comes, I need to be able to put some onion on my cheeseburger.

Now, I’m not exactly sure why there seems to be a lack of canned full-sized onions out there but I have some theories. I wonder if, since a whole onion is layers and layers of material, onions are unsuitable for canning because bacteria or air can be trapped inbetween those layers? But…the pressure canning should bring the temperature up high enough to kill anything in the onion, right? Or perhaps the onion loses its flavor as it leeches out into the water used to fill the canning jar, leaving you with a flavorless vegetable.

I suppose I should just break out the All American and some canning jars and see what happens if I try canning a whole onion. But, it is an interesting mystery to me.

So, while I suspect my post-apocalypse cheeseburgers and stir fries will be devoid of onion slices, I can still make my various sauces and whatnot with the dried chopped onions the folks at the LDS cannery so generously make available.

And, for your own edification and amusement, a fairly comprehensive treatise on how to store onions…note that while pickling is mentioned, regular canning is glossed over almost to the point of being not even mentioned.

Article – Blankets, canned tuna and faith in God — how fleeing Venezuelans survive

The rich were the first to leave. They wired their savings abroad and hopped on international flights.

The middle class departed next. They went on buses, sometimes riding for days across several countries.

The poor remained.

They stayed as the economy collapsed, food got scarcer, medicine shortages turned deadly and the electricity cut out for days at a time. But finally they too began to exit Venezuela.

They simply walked out.

Once you become a refugee, your options are severely limited. But, sometimes, staying put isn’t an option and you’ve gotta go, go, go. Having the resources to make the trip easier, faster, and safer are paramount.

The fact that you’re able to have internet access and read this shows that, financially, you’re probably light years ahead of the people in this article. But, situations change and they change fast. When the truck driver offering to haul you through the mountain passes wants hard currency instead of trading for cans of tuna…those little 1/10 Eagles or 1 0z. silver Maples might come in handy.

Anyway…interesting article. Venezuela is a lost cause until they finally have their coup, and in the meantime the suffering there will provide interesting insight for those of us who study these sorts of problems and how to survive them. (Most obvious solution? Prevention…don’t vote for socialists.)

Article – The Deadliest Marksman’s Cold, Brave Stand

The war was nearly over on March 6, 1940. The enemy, propagandized as an unstoppable fighting machine, was indeed overwhelming the army of the country they’d invaded. Six days later, the aggressors would finally force an armistice, and soon grab control of much of the land they’d coveted. It had taken longer than the two weeks they’d anticipated, but conditions were harsh, the defenders far more resolute than expected. For more than three months, battlefields roared with motoring tanks, gunfire and artillery explosions, obliterating the natural beauty of the countryside. Through it all, one warrior emerged as perhaps the finest killer in military history, on a mission to serve his besieged nation by picking off foreign attackers — many, many of them — one by one with a sniper rifle.

I sincerely doubt there is anyone here reading this blog who doesn’t know the story of the Finnish version of Hathcock. But, it’s a good article, since many are written from the perspective of gun boffins and military buffs…this one, it seems, is written more objectively.

For those of you out there with Mosin’s sitting in the closet, there’s a few sentences about a drill where 16 shots at 500 feet on a target in one minute is mentioned. Possible? Not possible? Grassy-knoll level of expertise required? You decide.

Good article, worth the read.

Article – The Doomed Mouse Utopia That Inspired the ‘Rats of NIMH’

Give a buncha rodents all the food, bedding, water, and stress-free living you can give them and they should breed like..well..rats. And have a population boom, right? Maybe not.

Such rapid growth put too much pressure on the mouse way of life. As new generations reached adulthood, many couldn’t find mates, or places in the social order—the mouse equivalent of a spouse and a job. Spinster females retreated to high-up nesting boxes, where they lived alone, far from the family neighborhoods. Washed-up males gathered in the center of the Universe, near the food, where they fretted, languished, and attacked each other. Meanwhile, overextended mouse moms and dads began moving nests constantly to avoid their unsavory neighbors. They also took their stress out on their babies, kicking them out of the nest too early, or even losing them during moves.

Some fascinating parallels to be had in just that one paragraph. To quote Judge Dredd “You put that many rats in one cage and something’s gonna happen.” The apparent message is that mammals ain’t cut out for being put into large metropolises. Even when you give them all the welfare food and shelter they want, they’ll still go bad.

But, men are not rodents. Yet look at any major city and you’ll see that the segments of the population that have everything handed to them seem to be the most troubled and troublesome.

Moral of the story? Stay out of enormous cities. Having just returned from a week in one of the biggest i can tell you with utter sincerity that nothing reinvigorated my mind and spirit more than being able to have room to stretch both physically and metaphorically. Away from the restricting confines of mandatory recycling, absurd gun laws, high sales taxes, etc, I felt I could breathe easier again and feel in control of my life.

Big cities, in my experience, are superior in providing only three things: money, women, and food. High paying jobs, endless varieties of women, and a dizzying array of types of food…thats about all I can recommend for the big cities. But what do I get out of smaller venues, such as where I live? Relatively high levels of freedom, or, at least, qualities that I equate with freedom.

Men or mice…put too many in one place and bad stuff happens. Don’t be there.

Article – ‘Here We Go. The Chaos Is Starting’: An Oral History of Y2K

Twenty years ago, we were all pretty sure the world was going to end on January 1, 2000—or, if not the world, then at least civilization.

It had something to do with how most computer programs used the last two digits to represent a four-digit year, and when the clock rolled over at the end of 1999, every computer would think it was 1900. When that happened, ATMs would stop working, the electrical grid would shut down, planes would fall out of the skies, and newborn babies would get hundred-year-old birth certificates.

Ah, the nostalgia. There really were people who drained their 401k’s and bought cinder block houses in the middle of the desert to ride it all out. If you were a journalist of any stripe back then, you were finding the most freaked out people you could find and putting them on camera to talk about the ‘extremes’ that they were going through to prepare.

Good times, good times. That was twenty years ago this Tuesday. My how time flies. The most interesting thing to come out of it all? John Titor. Well, that and some really interesting garage sales for the next few years. That Y2k legacy of garage sales still rears its head once in a while.