Originally posted by argentus
reply to post by InTrueFiction
If in dire circumstances a starving man pointed a gun at me demanding that I'd give him my food I'd invite him for dinner.
Thank you. I'd likely do the same, particularly given that the person would be someone I know (only 1500 people here). I wouldn't necessarily
leave myself vulnerable such that any old mook could get the drop on me, however your response infers to me that you've thought about this before.
Good for you -- an honest answer without gratuitous saber rattling.
I have thought about it before, yes.
We live in a world of uncertainties and many fears - it inevitably pulls us into an abstract vision of what we should protect. What has most value.
We're in a discussion about a situation where the SHTF. I believe that if the SHTF - or not - the one thing that needs to survive and must be
protected is humanity. The stuff that makes us, that is the core of our existence, that we all stand for, that inspires in us the very notion of
protection. Even in the worst scenario.
Survival. For me it is not about how many bags you packed or how much ammo you have but instead how many people you have around you. When the SHTF I
like to think that instead of turning to their guns people turn to each other and stand together and
survive. Share and look after each
other.
And I am confident that if we're here today is because our ancestors - just like us - had the gift of kindness, good will and generosity. When things
got tough they shared, held each other and stood together. As we ourselves would I am certain and hopeful if the S did hit the F.
I know that in Doomsday's scenario that makes me the most annoying member of any survival party

I know... and am pretty sure that between the
starving raider's gun and the survivalist's shotgun someone would shoot me.
But in the end whether the S does hit the F, or if it misses the F just slightly and hits the toaster instead, or even if the S doesn't get to fly at
all... I will die. We all will. It upsets me really. The only thing that makes it less painful is the thought that in the end, regardless of what
happens, I get to have "He meant well. R.I.P." written on my grave. That's a legacy I can live... well... a legacy I can die with. Regardless of
the fan's cleanliness.
Cheers.