Who wants TSHTF ?

page: 5
4
<< 2  3  4   >>

log in

join

posted on Oct, 11 2010 @ 09:55 PM
link   
I'm still trying to figure out how SHTF would be better because you won't need to worry about getting a girlfriend or boyfriend.

If you're having relationship problems, listen to Delilah, not Glenn Beck!

If you want to prepare for SHTF, go for it. But don't wish for it to happen.
edit on 11-10-2010 by BattleStarGal because: Spelling.




posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 06:46 PM
link   

Originally posted by DieSektor
Its seems as if you need an extreme catastrophic event to grant you relief from your everyday stress of life. That is not a life worth living my friend. I am not trying to take you too literal I am just saying the fact that you are breathing should be gift enough to satisfy. You have a mind capable of anything why let these demons grow within it?



I understand you but i guess i should practice surviving out there first and then see what its like and the harshness of it and then maybe i will realize how hard survival actually is . I am glad to wake up everyday and live my life however i want maybe i got my priorities in the wrong spot nahh i think i have them right where they should be .

Thanks for the good input .



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 06:50 PM
link   

Originally posted by BattleStarGal
I'm still trying to figure out how SHTF would be better because you won't need to worry about getting a girlfriend or boyfriend.

If you're having relationship problems, listen to Delilah, not Glenn Beck!

If you want to prepare for SHTF, go for it. But don't wish for it to happen.
edit on 11-10-2010 by BattleStarGal because: Spelling.



Well i am single and have a job and well i don't like glenn beck nor do i listen to the guy and i don't want it to happen but somethings gotta give .



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 07:04 PM
link   
Gutting a big game animal isn't too bad. There's generally a right way to go about it though. You definately don't want to pierce the stomach or any part of the intestinal track. But basically you free the insides from the diaphram, break the pelvis so the intestines can come out. Then just rip the whole thing out by the esophagus, and finish cutting away the anus and there you go. Aslong as you don't puncture the stomach it's not bad. Here in ND during that time of year it's cold, so the insides keep your hands warm.
Of course you have to be able to shoot an animal as well. I've encountered way too many people who can't fire a rifle to save their life. They'll go to zero in their rifle. They somehow get a couple hits on the paper and call it good. Then people wonder why they always gut shoot the damn things
edit on 12-10-2010 by Judohawk because: (no reason given)



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 07:29 PM
link   
It's not a matter of if it will happen it's a matter of when it will. It could be tomorrow, or next week. It will be tough starting out but it's bound to happen eventually so start preparing now. When SHTF it's just a sign of this corrupt country falling apart. Let's just get it over with already and hope for the best scenario.



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 07:35 PM
link   
reply to post by PS3Geek
 


Haven't been back here in a while. You touched upon something I wanted to mention:


I have never hunted before or gutted an animal and i know if it came to it i would have trouble doing it mainly trying to keep myself from puking .


It depends -- in my experience -- upon context. I didn't ever puke, even as a child, but then dressing a freshly killed animal was common within my experience as a kid. It began with cleaning fish, plucking and cleaning chickens, and it was just............ life -- respected, utilized for our nourishment and appreciated.

To be suddenly thrust into having to clean a large game animal might be somewhat visceral to a person.

Tell you a story. My Dad and I were elk hunting, and one of his work buddies wanted desperately to come along. Dad liked the guy, but cautioned me to always stay where I could see Norm and to be aware of where he was shooting. Dad and I were on horseback, and Norm was afoot; Even though horses are noisy, they often mask the scents of humanity. We were in a drainage about 10 miles from home near the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Area in Idaho.

Dad shot his elk, and the two of us hanged it from a stout branch and we dressed it out, peppering the cavity and left it. Dad put the selected innards in a canvas bag in his saddlebag, and he dropped the rest of the entrails about 1/4 of a mile away near a stream. We heard four or five shots to our east -- close to camp.

We rode back the few miles to camp and didn't find Norm. Dad set to tracking him and cut his trail along a game trail quartering up the hillside. We cresting a short hill, and there was a spash of red in the white background of snow. We walked the horses closer, and the two appaloosas started flashing their eyes white and jerking their heads. They smelled blood, and didn't like it. We went down into a draw and saw where something had left a plate-sized gout of blood, and followed the trail. Over the next rise and into the valley, we found Norm. At first I didn't know what I was seeing -- it was like some nightmarish creature. Norm had cut the spike elk low in the belly, and rather than opening the chest cavity, he had crawled up inside the elk, pushing entrails behind him. What I saw was an elk with blood-stained human legs and lower torso sticking out.

Norm had puked. Oh yeah. He'd puked several times near the carcass of the elk, but we had to give him respect for effort. Norm had seen elk come down from the high country, and they were dressed, but didn't have the chest cavity opened -- they had been hung, as we'd done, making the removal of the lungs, wind pipe and entrails more a matter of gravity and reaching up into the cavity to cut things loose. Nope. None of that for Norm. He was covered in gore, and nothing white except his full-toothed grin. Dad had told him: "you get an elk, you fire two shots rapidly, and we'll come help you dress it."

Norm went with us the next year, and the next. To his credit, he never felt embarassed about his initial effort. No reason he should have either; he did it his way and he learned. My mare was strong, and could pack a quarter and me both easily. My Dad's gielding -- Spooks -- aptly named because he spooked at everything... would not tolerate any blood-smelling critter parts on him. My mare -- Suzy -- packed both elk out to our horse trailer -- making it in six trips.

Maybe this is off-topic...... I kinda think it serves to illustrate what we can do when we feel the need to excell. I think if you really had to, you could field dress an animal.......... and probably wouldn't puke, unless you were with someone who persuaded you to eat part of the raw liver in homage to the animal.

It's not so bad. ;o)



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 07:38 PM
link   
reply to post by BAZ752
 


BAZ...yeah, in remembering my stepdad's seasonal bouts with PTSD from his stint in WWII, Battle of the Bulge, namely at Christmas time in the cold harsh winter of MN, I can see now as an adult how that was his SHTF. Wouldn't be fun. Let's not romanticize death and destruction.



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 09:02 PM
link   

Originally posted by argentus
reply to post by PS3Geek
 


Haven't been back here in a while. You touched upon something I wanted to mention:


I have never hunted before or gutted an animal and i know if it came to it i would have trouble doing it mainly trying to keep myself from puking .


It depends -- in my experience -- upon context. I didn't ever puke, even as a child, but then dressing a freshly killed animal was common within my experience as a kid. It began with cleaning fish, plucking and cleaning chickens, and it was just............ life -- respected, utilized for our nourishment and appreciated.

To be suddenly thrust into having to clean a large game animal might be somewhat visceral to a person.

Tell you a story. My Dad and I were elk hunting, and one of his work buddies wanted desperately to come along. Dad liked the guy, but cautioned me to always stay where I could see Norm and to be aware of where he was shooting. Dad and I were on horseback, and Norm was afoot; Even though horses are noisy, they often mask the scents of humanity. We were in a drainage about 10 miles from home near the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Area in Idaho.

Dad shot his elk, and the two of us hanged it from a stout branch and we dressed it out, peppering the cavity and left it. Dad put the selected innards in a canvas bag in his saddlebag, and he dropped the rest of the entrails about 1/4 of a mile away near a stream. We heard four or five shots to our east -- close to camp.

We rode back the few miles to camp and didn't find Norm. Dad set to tracking him and cut his trail along a game trail quartering up the hillside. We cresting a short hill, and there was a spash of red in the white background of snow. We walked the horses closer, and the two appaloosas started flashing their eyes white and jerking their heads. They smelled blood, and didn't like it. We went down into a draw and saw where something had left a plate-sized gout of blood, and followed the trail. Over the next rise and into the valley, we found Norm. At first I didn't know what I was seeing -- it was like some nightmarish creature. Norm had cut the spike elk low in the belly, and rather than opening the chest cavity, he had crawled up inside the elk, pushing entrails behind him. What I saw was an elk with blood-stained human legs and lower torso sticking out.

Norm had puked. Oh yeah. He'd puked several times near the carcass of the elk, but we had to give him respect for effort. Norm had seen elk come down from the high country, and they were dressed, but didn't have the chest cavity opened -- they had been hung, as we'd done, making the removal of the lungs, wind pipe and entrails more a matter of gravity and reaching up into the cavity to cut things loose. Nope. None of that for Norm. He was covered in gore, and nothing white except his full-toothed grin. Dad had told him: "you get an elk, you fire two shots rapidly, and we'll come help you dress it."

Norm went with us the next year, and the next. To his credit, he never felt embarassed about his initial effort. No reason he should have either; he did it his way and he learned. My mare was strong, and could pack a quarter and me both easily. My Dad's gielding -- Spooks -- aptly named because he spooked at everything... would not tolerate any blood-smelling critter parts on him. My mare -- Suzy -- packed both elk out to our horse trailer -- making it in six trips.

Maybe this is off-topic...... I kinda think it serves to illustrate what we can do when we feel the need to excell. I think if you really had to, you could field dress an animal.......... and probably wouldn't puke, unless you were with someone who persuaded you to eat part of the raw liver in homage to the animal.

It's not so bad. ;o)




100% Agreed this is one thing that i am afraid of when SHTF is gutting the animal and preparing it for consumption the other things ( shelter building , making a fire , etc , etc ) i feel i could handle atleast that's what i think but then again who knows until it actually goes down and what state of mind you are in at that exact time .



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 09:04 PM
link   

Originally posted by Judohawk
Gutting a big game animal isn't too bad. There's generally a right way to go about it though. You definately don't want to pierce the stomach or any part of the intestinal track. But basically you free the insides from the diaphram, break the pelvis so the intestines can come out. Then just rip the whole thing out by the esophagus, and finish cutting away the anus and there you go. Aslong as you don't puncture the stomach it's not bad. Here in ND during that time of year it's cold, so the insides keep your hands warm.
Of course you have to be able to shoot an animal as well. I've encountered way too many people who can't fire a rifle to save their life. They'll go to zero in their rifle. They somehow get a couple hits on the paper and call it good. Then people wonder why they always gut shoot the damn things
edit on 12-10-2010 by Judohawk because: (no reason given)




Good info and i appreciate it thanks hopefully i remember this , i need to get out more and shoot some more get used to my gun some more and would be nice to hunt too and get my aim right on .
edit on 12-10-2010 by PS3Geek because: To add a sentence .



posted on Oct, 12 2010 @ 09:30 PM
link   
I think if one were hungry enough (and who of us has ever been that hungry) one could do what it takes to catch a fish, figure out how to clean it and cook it, or if game, figure out the best way to prepare it to be able to eat it. I guess if you weren't taught or shown how it could be hard. I've watched fish gettin cleaned and deer getting gutted, hung in the pole barn and cut up. I've even cut it up in chunks and tried dehydrating it. Kind of gross, yes. I prefer taking it to get processed but we've ground up our own meat and made sausage and such. My kids have watched and hopefully learned and yeah, they eat it. The grossest part for me was when my kid shot a squirrel and he wanted me to cook it up. I promised him if he shot it, I'd cook it. Dredged it in flour and fried it up. Gross for me but I can be assured the kid will be able to at least kill something and clean it and cook it in a survival type situation. It's always so cool when you see your kid shoot their first deer and first pheasant and cooler yet when they're willing to eat it.



posted on Oct, 13 2010 @ 06:05 PM
link   

Originally posted by queenofsheba
I think if one were hungry enough (and who of us has ever been that hungry) one could do what it takes to catch a fish, figure out how to clean it and cook it, or if game, figure out the best way to prepare it to be able to eat it. I guess if you weren't taught or shown how it could be hard. I've watched fish gettin cleaned and deer getting gutted, hung in the pole barn and cut up. I've even cut it up in chunks and tried dehydrating it. Kind of gross, yes. I prefer taking it to get processed but we've ground up our own meat and made sausage and such. My kids have watched and hopefully learned and yeah, they eat it. The grossest part for me was when my kid shot a squirrel and he wanted me to cook it up. I promised him if he shot it, I'd cook it. Dredged it in flour and fried it up. Gross for me but I can be assured the kid will be able to at least kill something and clean it and cook it in a survival type situation. It's always so cool when you see your kid shoot their first deer and first pheasant and cooler yet when they're willing to eat it.



Oh yeah if hungry enough people will do whatever it takes to get food in their stomachs and sad to say a bunch of people will resort to cannibalism . Yea if kids learn this from a young age then when they're older they can stomach it better .



posted on Oct, 15 2010 @ 10:53 PM
link   
reply to post by PS3Geek
 


Stomach what better? Surely not cannibalism???? Certainly not teaching them that! Not a bad lesson to teach 'em; how to kill and eat for survival. Reality is such that our meat comes from an animal and said animal needs to be processed and cooked to be fit for the table. Such is life. Life is The Road.



posted on Oct, 16 2010 @ 01:24 PM
link   

Originally posted by queenofsheba
reply to post by PS3Geek
 


Stomach what better? Surely not cannibalism???? Certainly not teaching them that! Not a bad lesson to teach 'em; how to kill and eat for survival. Reality is such that our meat comes from an animal and said animal needs to be processed and cooked to be fit for the table. Such is life. Life is The Road.




Agreed .



posted on Jun, 26 2011 @ 01:59 AM
link   
When the world as we know it comes to an end, I want to be there.

And yes, I do realize that my death is in some sense the 'end' but I would really love to be there at that final moment before the human race hit the end of the timeline. If this information was known in advance, the more interesting things would be. Talk about living.





 
4
<< 2  3  4   >>

log in

join



atslive.com

hi-def

low-def