There are always people who do what people in positions of authority say, just because those people are in positions of authority. There are also always people who stop and think before they act, but rarely do anything to try to stop the first kind of people from screwing themselves over. And then there are preppers.
Preppers stockpile. They stockpile food. They stockpile toiletries. They even go so far as to fret over all the different ways that civilization could collapse around them.
They seem pretty crazy, right up until they get proven right. All but the craziest of them are less than pleased about having been correct. -- Escla
Some people just like to be prepared. They see which way the winds of change are going to blow and they ready the sails so they can -at least theoretically- navigate their way through the storm. Some believe in revolution. Some believe in a global pandemic. Some believe in a literal disaster as the stars fall.
Most of them seem to believe they can solve these incoming problems with a combination of bunkers and bullets. There are, however, the rare few who truly think about things and actually prepare to help as many others through the storm as they can. Some of them just drift into this via other occupations, like Extreme Couponing.
When the revolution came in the arms of a plague, Cassandra had been predicting it for years. They had been working on systems to manufacture emergency supplies on the spot since they saw it coming, some decades prior. Old, slow technology that was carefully maintained. Newer technology in the same state. Non-perishables by the crate. Things and methods and instructions that could be of use when the time came. Of course, everyone watching Cassandra from the illusion of safety thought they were overreacting. Until the inevitable, of course, happened.
Who will help me plant the wheat, said the little red hen. Not I, said the rat...
Cassandra went into triage mode, bundling up supplies and setting machines in motion based on that which was most needed and in what quantities. They never disclosed where their hoards were because Human Nature would have her overwhelmed and raided to empty shelves in seconds flat. They took care and precautions to make sure the supply would never be traced to their sources.
Who will help me cut the wheat, said the little red hen. Not I, said the cat...
At first, those suffering were grateful. It was all about the local hero who shared what they had in the time of need. When the larger populace were panic-purchasing everything they could get their hands on, Cassandra was there with what was actually needed. Sanitary products, medicines, vitamins, and protection in multiple forms.
Who will help me mill the grain, said the little red hen. Not I, said the dog...
It was amazing, they said, how Cassandra knew what people needed and when. How they had enough to tide people over. How they didn't ask for anything much at all. Not very much. Almost inconsequential things. Could you grow radishes? Could you plant tomatoes? Can you start on bread the old-school way? We have the time, and people will have the need. Please protect yourself and others, here's the latest information...
Cassandra was always willing to share.
Who will help me make the bread, said the little red hen. Not I, said the hog...
As it all dragged on, as supplies that Cassandra could provide ran out, as more and more of the community depended on what they all did together, it started to go rotten. Isn't it suspicious how Cassandra knew this would happen? Isn't it funny that they always seem to have what's needed? Isn't it weird how well prepared they are?
What if...
What if...
What if they knew because they were in on it? What if they had all this stuff because they knew exactly when things were going to get bad and how? Nobody asked, What if we heeded their warnings and acted accordingly? because people aren't like that.
When the world changes that fast, when things are that uncertain, people like to have someone to blame.
Cassandra, as always, saw it coming. They did not resist when the mobs formed and demanded to see all of Cassandra's stores. They assumed wealth. They assumed there were massive stockpiles of everything from the world they once knew. Things that, by all logic and reason, would have rotted away years ago.
Who will help me eat the bread, said the little red hen...
They found machines, and manuals, and spare parts made by hand. They found little farms and instructions on how to make preserves, and manuals on how to rebuild societies from collapse. They found libraries of moral tales.
They found one copy each of a book for children, about a small red chicken who wanted to make bread with her friends. The moral being that if people wanted to share the rewards, they also had to share the work.
Instead of learning their lesson, the people merely got angry.
People, unfortunately, are exactly like that.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / grafvision]
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