You know, my hat's off to Jack Spirko. He's the guy who has the Modern Survival Philosophy thing nailed. A north Texan, Spirko says you do the things that put you in a better position in life, so that even if nothing goes wrong, your quality of life has improved, not diminished.
Spirko, nor I, are of the black government helicopter crowd. For a little bit I figured I'd yield to Spirko and change the name of this blog again, before I really get up to full bore, both chambers loaded. But I don't know. Survivalism is such a multi-faceted thing, and it's a lot catchier to the uninitiated than "modern homesteading" or something to that effect. Besides, the modern homesteading thing is being done.
Survivalism is preparedness, which I advocate. It is also awareness of global, national, regional and local political issues, like taxation and the whole EVERYTHING MUST BE ILLEGAL movement. It is knowing how to handle a weapon tactically in a gunfight, God forbid, even the wife and older children. It is all that thrown in with homesteading, so I'm keeping the jovial, rather Epicurean title, "The Comfortable Survivalist." That's what I am; those are the values that kept my ancestors around long enough to continue the chain of survival until it yielded me, and I am glad it did.
This evening while Lynette worked her job at the nearby church, I was looking for some rabbits around the garden to pot. I looked back, and the evening was stormy, and there was a rainbow arching down, its terminus was my happy yellow country home, The Bunkhouse. The garden was in the foreground with its cornstalks and squash and newly planted okra, and the native flora was a rich, living green.
Start homesteading and getting back to the land, and you'll find that pot of gold.