The farming of humans. Or how to spot a trap.
Since the very beginning of life on this planet, every single species had to struggle for survival.
Then came the Agricultural Age, which paved the way to farming. Farmed animals were the first species that didn’t have to struggle. They didn’t have to worry about finding food or keeping warm. It was all taken care of for them.
The arc of “progress” didn’t stop there, of course. So, let us skip over all the boring parts and fast forward to the brave new world of the 21st century.
The farming of humans
In the space of a few decades, governments around the world were captured, compromised, and compelled to surrender their local means of production.
Western citizens were lulled into a fantasy world of effortless sustenance: inexpensive consumer goods, packaged nutrition, temperature control, and so on. Everything we need for survival now sits at the end of a just-in-time supply chain controlled by obscure entities we can’t see or touch. Manual labor has all but disappeared. City dwellers are comfortable, fat, and stupefied. What could possibly go wrong?
When farm animals meet their fate
Most of us failed to see it for what it was: a well orchestrated bait-and-switch operation; a rug-pull, decades in the making. And now it’s almost too late. The trap door is about to snap shut.
Look around you. Food and energy prices are sky-rocketing “all of a sudden”. Household electricity will soon be rationed and even cut off. Shipping has ground to a halt; store shelves are emptying out, just as movement restrictions are put in place.
Those who get their information from mainstream programming will, of course, continue to rest in the proverbial boiling pot. Those who understand what’s happening, however, are busy preparing. At the very least, they store a few weeks’ worth of essentials: canned food, rice, beans, water, fuel, flashlights, batteries, cash, and so on.
Indeed, buying and storing supplies can help with temporary disruptions in service.
But that’s not what real prepping is about.
As the penny drops about our collective predicament, thousands of humans are taking matters into their own hands. They flee cities, buy land, grow food, and build communities. They prep for the real world, a world without supply chains. If that sounds like science fiction, give it another 5 years. And that’s stretching it.
By the way, the word “prepper” is a manufactured label; a socially engineered moniker designed to punish those who practice freedom; those who refuse to be farmed (and wasted) like cattle.
Prepping is not easy, of course. Far from it. In fact, it comes with significant risk.
Owning resources--and the means to protect them--requires years of investments. And here’s the kicker. Those investments are not mobile. You cannot carry around an underground bunker.
As such, prepping poses an opportunity risk. What if the situation in another state or country becomes comparatively better? You cannot readily tap into that situational opportunity, because you have sunk costs. So, you stay where you are. You align your fate with that of your neighbors, community, and state.
By preparing for something, you are investing in that thing transpiring exactly the way you prepared for. Unfortunately, that’s not how life works.
What if you fall out with your neighbors? What if you no longer agree with the decisions of your community? Tough luck. Owning land and amassed resources compels you to stick around. In other words, un-diversified prepping can push you into a corner. A corner you may have to fight for.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m all for defending things that matter in my life. But a stash of canned food is not one of those things.
Avoiding strife is almost always a better option.
When people hear the word, they erroneously think of “digital nomads”.
Let’s be honest. The digital nomad fad was an euphemism for long-term tourism.
In true tourist fashion, digital nomads favored well-trodden spots with fancy co-working spaces and hipster cafes. Drop-shippers, Instagram influencers, crypto traders, call them whatever you like; truth is, they are nowhere to be seen these days. Most of them have ferried their MacBooks back home, waiting for things to get back to normal (TM).
So, we need to recalibrate the term nomad.
In reality, there is nothing new about nomadism. Our nomadic forefathers roamed the earth for thousands of years (up until the onset of the Agricultural Age). One could argue that our natural human state is nomadic, and that the fall of mankind began when we settled; when we became sedentary. As Yuval Noah Harari writes in his book Sapiens, “foragers seem to have enjoyed a more comfortable and rewarding lifestyle than most of the peasants, shepherds, laborers and office clerks who followed in their footsteps.”
Driven by necessity rather than leisure, nomadism is the unending, natural, drive for survival.
Mind you, in a world where our freedoms are under siege, the ability to squeeze out of tough spots at a moment’s notice may soon become a survival skill.
It’s a cat and mouse game.
As governments impose new regulations, mandates, and restrictions, people who value their freedom will have to keep moving. The world is vast. Even within jurisdictions, there is plenty of land. An oppressive hand cannot be at all places at the same time.
The only areas bereft of places to hide are the cities. Large metros are grids of control; they are human farms, primed for the final act. Don’t get trapped in a city.
The makings of a nomad.
It may sound obvious, but to live a nomadic life you need to be able to move. Other than health, what impedes our movement the most is our material possessions. Which leads us to yet another buzzword: minimalism.
When I say minimalism, I’m not referring to Japanese gift-wrapping or Feng-Shui bedrooms. No, I’m talking barebones here; like get-rid-of-everything type of barebones. I’m talking about being able to carry everything you own on your back, while keeping your hands free, and your ability to run intact.
In a future newsletter I will share an exhaustive list of everything I own, for your inspiration.
Another key attribute of nomadism is the ability to source everything locally. How can I aspire to be free if I have to rely on Amazon for my equipment? How can I be free if I need Airbnb to find shelter? Disentangling ourselves from the choke-points of big tech is an urgent matter. It’s not easy, but there are alternatives. Stay tuned for detailed suggestions.
In the meantime, here are some suggestions to consider:
Do not rely on 3rd parties to stay warm. The need for warmth is a powerful point of leverage. City dwellers in colder climates should take heed. Always gravitate to warmer lands.
Always be near food. There are places in Latin America where you can drive through miles upon miles of avocado plantations. Every rural neighborhood in South East Asia is graced by the screeching sound of roosters. Those places will never run out of food. Our need for food is another point of leverage. If the only food you can find is in big shops or supermarkets, you may need to move. If you have to show papers at the door, you really need to move. If it feels like a trap, it probably is.
Shop small. Need clothes? Skip the shopping center. Buy them from an open market. Support small vendors, for it is them that keep communities free. Don’t skimp on the freedom premium.
Pay it forward. Life on the move relies on genuine connections, not public relations. You are not networking, you are building alliances. Keep it real, keep it honest. You don’t need to be popular; just be of service to those around you.
Stay healthy, keep fit. Eat local and unprocessed foods. Walk or exercise every day.
Okay, time for some housekeeping.
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