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In the Third Year of the Postmodern Glaciation
Thoughts on the Falsehood and Fate of Civilization

More and more I come to realize that my dissident streak sets me at odds with the dissidents I have met on the internet, who wish to reject the recent state-sponsored fall into decadence, dysgenics emasculation and seek a return to the summer of 1955.

But what is "THE STATE" if not an expression of Civilization?

There is no record of a pre-state Civilization. The concepts are as closely aligned as gangster rap and crime.

Yesterday, on the first day of spring, I took an evening walk in an ice storm.

Today, on the second day of Spring, in the armpit of the east coast, I sit by my sissy window and see snow driven diagonally by a north-south wind piling on the ornate sill that would be within reach in the absence of this window, heaping up in the driveway beyond upon the red Mercedes SUV and the 4-door Audi sedan.

For the past three years, Maryland has received heavy March snows, heavy, windless summer rains, unseasonably cool Augusts—hitherto a sweltering hell when people sought the mountain air and sea breeze.

I once saw a really ridiculous sci-fi movie about global warming triggering a shutdown of the North Atlantic Conveyor current. The production values were good and the scare was on for the audience when ice covered shopping malls and wolves came hunting human flesh.

That nightmare has been my dream since boyhood.

When my father moved the family to Washington PA in 1976 I noticed two patches of woods. There were the Moger Drive woods above Grumick's Greenhouse, which were okay to play in. But the far larger, deeper woods behind my father's house, that eventually ended at a field called Bush Stadium, was said to be roamed by a pack of wild dogs. I immediately made a spear and club and began hunting for this pack but never found it. Then, before winter came—when I was sure the dogs would be hungry—I forged a broadsword from a 4 foot fence post of solid 1/4 inch steel, forged it in a coal fire built in the small patch of evergreens next to Donnie's house.

When the snow fell just after Thanksgiving we had no idea that we would not see the ground until March. For the balance of the winter, every chance I could, I took my sword along with the shield I had made from the carborator cap of a 1960s four-door sedan and patrolled those woods, hoping and praying to be attacked a pack of ravenous winter dogs.

They never came and I have lived the balance of my life being hunted by summer apes in an asphalt jungle.

But I don't stop praying for a return of the ice and snow, for a return to the wintry times that have, I believe, ended some other civilization in the long ago and might freeze this one in its monstrous tracks.

Under the God of Things

Add Comment
LaManoMarch 21, 2018 10:12 AM UTC

There's something weird about peoples' attitude toward packs of wild dogs.

Where I live is a hunting area. People hunt deer, turkeys, groundhogs, squirrels, rabbits, birds, anything. Most people have a safe full of guns and have one or two in the truck.

But, strangely, they remain frightened of the idea of packs of dogs running amok. It's rumored that a guy about a mile through the woods from me has two big stock-killing-size dogs that often get loose; yet the local hunters seem "scared" of them (or maybe they're scared of HIM, I don't know). When I suggest that if ever see one of those dogs near my place, and he's still there when I level the sights on him, that I'll put a hollow point into him, they act like I'm not right in the head, even if they have 15 dead groundhogs in the back of their truck.

I was confronted by three dogs on a walk on my place recently, who advanced toward me, barking. I had a heavy walking stick on me, and began backing up with it at the ready (although I'm not exactly sure what "ready" is when facing multiple dogs, but I was going to give it a damn good try). They followed me at about 10 yards distance for a while, then backed off. I hustled back to the house, grabbed the Remington 870 with five rounds of "Hevi-Shot Dead Coyote", and went back looking for them but they were gone.

I usually have a pistol on my belt when in the woods, but not always. I always have a stick, though - maybe a few words of advice about stick work against dogs might be helpful? I like the idea of the spear and shield!
responds:March 21, 2018 2:14 PM UTC

What a cool intro to an article!

Thanks. I will use this as a starter.