Oh Noes, Not Another Writing Project

Yeah, I started another writing project in an official capacity.

With Last Call, Last Stand finished, I wanted to keep a story thread on ZS alive for the most practical reason: the more people on that forum who like my shit, the more people will eventually buy Codex when I finally get it cleaned up and submission ready.

I wasn't sure if The Crystal Menage could drive a narrative; I'm still not sure.  I'm encountering a few hurdles, perhaps the most striking of which is that I know nothing about Private Detective work.  I'm fudging it a little by making this a particularly shady private detective (I know all about being a shady character) but I feel like the story is going to showcase my lack of knowledge at some point.

Still, TCM has been a fun story to work on.  I'm enjoying writing the current chapter but am hung up on describing one of my favorite sensations-the smell of two girls having sex.  I feel like I could wax poetic on it for days but when it comes right down to it I'm having trouble getting the point across.  I'm also striving to shatter a standard American Fiction trope-that is to say, when you get married, the story ends and the credits roll.  Our (as yet unnamed) Hero is happily married, albeit in a quasi open marriage, but he and Carmen will still manage to have plenty of adventures.

I'm also moderately concerned that this is the story that is going to get me banned from ZS.  Not that the Fiction forum is heavily moderated or anything, but I have a feeling that my post is going to get flagged by some deeply offended busybody and I'm going to have an ideological battle on my hands.  I don't need or want an ideological forum battle; if they ask me to take down the story I will, and post it here on the blog instead.

Anyway, the thread is here if you are intrigued by the concept-and you know you are, ya fuckin' pervert.

(Shhh, shhh...you know Daddy loves you.)

Naming the Beast

I have seen the face of the Wyrm.

We summoned this Leviathan long ago, to fight what we believed was a greater evil.  To survive the terrible trials facing our nation, we created a fierce, terrible hydra with many heads.  With our own hands and our own wallets, we built this beast out of iron and sulphur, coal and uranium.

There are others who have struggled to name this beast.  The names were cumbersome and awkward and often covered only one facet of this homebrowed monster.  Each head had a name, often followed by the words "Industrial Complex" as if such a ravenous, mindless entity were capable of either Industry or Complexity.  Military.  Corporate.  Prohibition.  Education.  Media.  Credit.  Charity.  Environmental.  Religious.  Police.  Each head of the Hydra snarled and hissed at the other heads, seeking to devour more of the dwindling resources of the vast slumbering body, an eternal tempest of discord.  Yet the heads all acted in concert with regards to one thing-sustaining their own existence.

Some will say our forefathers in the greatest generation were great men.  I will not dispute this.  What I do know is that the Leviathan they raised from the deep is still awake, and despite having no true purpose in a world without global war, it will lash out terribly out of simple self preservation.  Many would call this immoral, but in truth morality does not apply to the Beast; it is a mindless hive entity devoid of morality or true compassion.  It is simply a self sustaining machine attended by drones of the New Mandarin Class, built for the sole purpose of sustaining a great war with no thought to the consequences that come after.  The devastation wrought by those well meaning men will be like nothing in human history, when the inevitable conclusion is reached.

And yet there is hope.  The heads of the Hydra will not function if the nutrients stop flowing.  The people control the muscles, the heart, the arteries, the nerve centers of the body.  It can be stopped.  But there will be buckets of gore before this thing is done, and you know what?  We deserve it, America.  We deserve it because this is the monster we have made for ourselves and that we clung to long after it was no longer useful.  It's eyes never stop staring, it never stops sharpening it's teeth, it never stops devouring more and more resources even in the face of massive shortages.  It is a monster with a thousand fangs and no soul.

I have seen the face of your enemy, America, and it is much larger than Barack Obama, despite the absurd level of focus on him from miscreants and shills.  You would do well to remember it-during the election, and long after.  Because when the smoke clears, the people who remain will surely have among their number at least one who will sweep aside the ashes of the Leviathan and start assembling a new beast out of the wreckage.  And on that day, with all the terrors of a changing world around you, the only way to human salvation, even human survival, is going to be someone with the courage to say "I have seen your like before, Leviathan.  And I will not allow this evil to pass before my sight."

I pray it will be you.

Post Bugout AAR #3: Witty Title Pending

So my final post on the bugout is going to be a matter of personal philosophy with regards to survivalism and training priorities.

As I've said before, we were pushing forward with a hardcore bushcraft event-no food, minimal water, buttpack only, hiking on foot through the wilderness living off the land, all that shit.  But we stressed something at the very beginning that should be brought up here: by the time you are in the situation we were in, you have already failed.

There is no good reason why a sensible, intelligent prepper should have to bug out to the wilderness with nothing more than a buttpack, one blade and a water bottle.  The reason we chose to do the bugout this way was because we were training for the absolute worst case scenario-both for training purposes and, let's face it,  for bragging rights with the rest of the tribe.  And don't get me wrong-it was both an awesome and educational experience for everyone involved.  But if this training is relevant, then there are many, many layers of fail that immediately preceded it and forced us into this scenario.

In short, if you have to ditch to the wilderness with almost nothing, you done fucked up son, and you better pray you get as lucky as we did.  Wild foraging is unreliable even for masters (which we aren't) and the sheer amount of calories you have to expend getting food makes even the most simple of diversions prohibitive.

So what's the big bugaboo here?  Well, the trend in survivalism has always been towards wilderness\bushcraft skills.  And I'm not coming out and saying that those skills are useless or impractical.  But the thing is, to even use those skills, I have to drive for 40 minutes-and thinking on it, perhaps my time would have been better spent practicing a group rendezvous at one of our rally points or doing some route recon on some of the hidden footpaths here in town.  For one thing, even if SHTF, I probably still have to go to work as I work in infastructure.  For another, there is basically no earthly reason for me to be wandering around with no food and no firearm in the back 9 of the Deam wilderness area during a SHTF event.  But perhaps the most relevant item has been this: the special forces commando thing is just not relevant to my AO and my plans, no matter how bad ass it is.

Our next bugout is actually going to be a practice bug in.  We're going to work through the steps of our SHTF folder in a simulated disaster.  We have done this in a virtual manner, by using a simulated disaster event as a gaming scenario using our real materials, but I want to do it in meatspace.

Communication.  Coordination.  Logistics.  Everything from rainwater collection to hand signals to deploying a fireteam from the back of a pickup truck without being seen.  I've got my rifle class scheduled in May.  I'm running three times a week.  I've got my homies on standby.  All of this is more relevant than snake eating.

So let's make it happen, people.  The clock is ticking.

Post Bugout AAR #2: Gearwhore Edition

So if you are wondering how I held up, well, not that great.  I need more cardio, which has been the mantra of every past bugout for every member every time.  I'm starting couch to 5k tomorrow (finally got my knee braces) so that should help out a bit.

However, that isn't what you came here for, is it?  You came here for the gear reviews.  (And if you come here for the Disney Sex, be sure to check back for Femslash Friday...ya fuckin' pervs, you know I love you.)

Item #1: My Ninja Pants.  The pants themselves are Tru Spec 24/7 Series tactikewl pants.  I got my first pair about two months ago and wore them every day until the day of the bugout as the first part of the test; they held up well to the everyday abuses, particularly with regard to spills and hot bong ashes.  This is actually pretty normal as far as how I wear my pants; I hate doing laundry and changing shit out of my pockets so I tend to wear the same pants for long periods.  On the bugout itself, they performed up to spec in every way.  The poly/cotton ripstop material is thick and the stitching is damn near bomb proof; I didn't have a single stitch come loose during daily wear or the stress of the bugout.  I'm not going back to BDU's or regular pants; I'll be that dude wearing tac pants all the time, I don't give a fuck.  Coincidentally, they are on sale @ USCAV for dirt cheap; I ended up ordering five more pairs and several of the other guys are buying them on my endorsement.
The Verdict: The Motherfuckin' tits.  Plenty of pocket space, rugged as fuck, comfortable, sturdy design.  A+

Item #2: The Woodman's Pal.  Not that the Woodman's pal needs my endorsement, but let me tell you-we put that fucker through it's paces this time.  It chops like something twice as large as it is, and after two bugouts including this one where it was my only chopping tool, there isn't even a mark on the finish.  I wish there was a way to pad the handle a little bit; I was numb to the shoulder after some of the chopping, but basically the thing goes on and on and doesn't quit until long after I do.  I will say, upon ordering the leather sheath, that it blows the cheapie nylon sheath out of the water.  I don't even know why that thing ships with the nylon sheath; it is a piece of shit and detracts from the otherwise sterling quality of the product.
The Verdict: Great tool, lovely old school design.  Much more secure with the leather sheath.  Also, purely sexy.  A- because the stock sheath is terrible.

Item #3: East German Surplus Poncho & 80's era surplus USGI Liner.  These are the only dedicated prep items I bought for the bugout.  As I've said before, I'm trying to avoid buying cheap shit, but I make exceptions for items like ponchos that are basically impossible to fuck up.  It never rained, so I can't speak to the waterproofing qualities.  But they rolled up together in a nice tight bedroll, the poncho liner is nice and warm and probably good for about 3 seasons in indiana with a good fire, and they were about fifteen bucks apiece so the price was right.  They weighed in a little on the heavy side compared to the latest and greatest woobie, but they were certainly adequate for my purposes.  The snaps and grommets on the poncho held up well to the high winds when I built my shelter, and made building it a breeze.  And that poncho liner actually made a pretty good sleeping pad; I was pretty comfortable the whole time with it.
The Verdict: Cheap, heavy but built tough and packs up pretty small.  Adequately comfortable for bugout camping.  B, mostly because I just hate that East German baby puke green; it doesn't work with Indiana foliage that well.

Well, that's about all I've got with regard to my gear.  The final bugout AAR will be a matter of philosophy.  Stay tuned.

Post Bugout AAR #1

Whew.

My ass is kicked.

Our Hero & his band of Merry Assholes took a two day bugout to the Charles C. Deem wilderness area with minimal kit and no food to practice our bushcraft and foraging skills.  A side note: most of the foraging was highly illegal, but then again, most of the dope smoking and sodomy probably was as well.

Spring is here and we've been itching to get into woods for at least an overnight.  On the whole, we hiked about 23-24 miles, with about 6 miles of it being backbreaking off trail hikes up and down those karst formation hills.  We had a GPS as backup but we were mostly navigating by compass; on the whole, we managed to navigate both on trail and overland with few problems.  The GPS went haywire on the last day and was trying to dump us in the lake so we were glad for the compasses.  Quick Protip: If you suspect your GPS or your compass is haywire, you will need two compasses to verify whether the compass or GPS is off.

We had meant for the whole thing to be quasi-competetive, but we ended up working together a lot.  It's just the way we're wired I suppose; all of our gaming is co-op too.  Anyway, I do want to make this point: solo survival in the woods is a goddamn fantasy.  If your plan is to bug out by yourself to the middle of nowhere and "live off the land" then enjoy the sublime pleasure of starving to death, you stupid motherfucker.  Living off the land is a staggering amount of work, and even if you are the 2nd incarnation of Baden Powell you can still slip a disc and starve with your arm stretched out towards a mushroom right in front of you.

Speaking of mushrooms, we did not find a single goddamn mushroom the entire time.  Either the locals have already been through and picked them clean well ahead of season, or I've just lost the eye (far more likely) but we combed the ground for hours without finding a single morel.  I'm a quasi experienced mushroom hunter, but all my experience is when I was a kid so it woudln't surprise me to learn I trampled a hundred tasty mushrooms...but it also wouldn't surprise me that the locals picked everything clean.  When we were scouting for this bugout, #2 and I went out to the trails and saw a bunch of furtive people hiding their breadsacks (this was well ahead of legal mushroom season) so it is possible that it was just too late.  Either way, though, I need to practice-and apparently get out earlier.

The first night we set up "Camp Ron Swanson" down at the far eastern end after a jaunty 13 mile hike.  We found a good spot with a water source and plenty of dry firewood, but the surrounding area was dead-seriously.  No squirrels, no deer sign, no birds-the entire area was dead silent except for us and this random stray dog that had been following us the whole time.  I set up a squirrel pole or two, but was at a loss for where to put them-there were no signs of squirrel activity for a five hundred yard radius around the campsite.  There weren't even any mosquitos, grubs or waterbugs-It was some kind of creepy Pet Semetary kind of deal and we kept making jokes about how if you see the floating green head, you shouldn't talk to it.  Anyway, that left us well hydrated and warm, but hungry.

The second night we set up "Camp John Rambo" and that was down by the lake after a short 4 miles, mostly on trail.  It was a much better prospect even though firewood was not as easy to get; over the course of the day we managed to catch a small snapper and a big catfish and that meant we had enough energy for our hike back; I was seriously worried that if we had no food we wouldn't be able to make it back.  Incidentally, running a trot line is a complicated job-but highly rewarding.  I'm pretty much of the opinion that in a survival situation, pole fishing is a waste of time and I want a pole that you don't have to man.  We also stalked some ducks and a beaver, but they escaped our hungry grasp.  Planning on heading back in the morning, we also made sure we had some water purified for the trip and filled our canteens.

Finally on the morning of the third day we packed up our shit and hiked out, about five miles, both on and off trail as well as along the road.  Breaking camp is a lot easier when you have a minimal kit.  The hike back, though, was brutal-we had eaten very little and camping by the lake and going to the fire tower meant we had to go from the lowest point to the highest.  We made it back about 10:30 on the 20th, smoked a victory bowl, and went to the Log Cabin Inn & Resturaunt to RZ with the girls for a tearful and greasy reunion.

I'll post a "Lessons Learned" post as per usual about the bugout, but I want to say this first and foremost-if you don't eat enough, all your physical and mental abilities go to hell.  There were some stupid and dangerous decisions made on that second day with no food in our bellies.  I am a pretty strong guy but I was having trouble unscrewing the lid to my nalgene by the end of the 2nd day.

Still, my worst day starving in the woods is better than the best day at work, so fuck it.  I'm glad we went.

Can't Talk, Bugged Out

Going on our bushcraft bugout with the Tribe.

Good solid group of 4 going, including a stray we picked up recently. Minimal kit-buttpack, water bottle, one large blade. Forecast is cool with scattered showers.

At the end of a 14 day stretch at work with no days off. No sleep. (And my #2 is coming off a 7 day stretch of 12 hour shifts, and the new guy just got back from drill in the USMC.) Using the stress and exhaustion to simulate real conditions. Leaving bright and early after taking the Spawn to school in the morning.

I should return on the 20th with all kinds of new stories and maybe some gear reviews for my new shit. So look forward to that, America.

Don't let the whole fucking thing collapse while I'm gone, OK?

Yeah, I got nothin...

In case you were wondering what I can't get out of my head lately.

If you haven't checked out the Pine Box Boys, you probably should. They are a sort of prog-bluegrass outfit that tell fucked up stories and dress like old west undertakers.

On the Death of IRC RP

Damn, this has been a SRUS blog for the past couple of updates, hasn't it? Not even a Femslash Friday this week. Anyway, today I'm gonna post on a non heavy subject-the Death of IRC Roleplaying.

IRC RP is where I really cut my WoD chops; I played in #vampirepub on DAL and later #vampire'stouch on Sorcery. Neither was an exceptionally awesome place to play, but I met some exceptionally awesome people and had a reliable cadre built up of good players. I've dropped out of the medium some time ago, but every once in awhile I peek in and see what is going on in the IRC RP world.

IRC RP has always been a quasi shameful business; even among gamers, you won't find many that will admit to playing on IRC, and the reason is that it has always been a thinly veiled road to kinky cybersex. That doesn't bother me; given what I admit to doing IRL, talking about cybersex is pretty tame. But I've never been in the "Get to the fucking" camp; I played a character and ran storylines, goddamnit. Still, that factor has always been present and I want you to be aware of that while I talk about the channel I moseyed into last night.

Anyway, in the past three or four years the medium has really died down; popular channels used to range towards 25+ players and most of them are down to a dedicated camp of 3 or 4 now, when they exist at all. The trend, based on what I can glean from lurking, appears to be towards crunchy dice based channels rather than loose freeform channels. But I found a large channel on Sorcery last night, one with 15+ players and a freeform setting, so I thought I'd try my hand at it. I didn't quite realize that it was a fucking only channel at first, but even so I figured that I could make it work with some good storytelling and a nice loose environment to work my will on. Hell, even the setting was loose-some kind of Honest Jon's inn at the end of all worlds.

So yeah. My Nephandi, that loveable rogue, wanders in...and for two days watches people fuck in various gender combinations with varying levels of actual RP ability. I mean seriously, there wasn't even a conversation involved-just piles of people fucking. Some of them were supernatural WoD type characters, but those details were side notes-it was really about the fucking. Multiple bubbles of side by side RP with various people and groups fucking. A setting with the potential for awesome multiverse storylines, with all the associated questions of paradigm and sanity, and all anyone ever did was swap corpse DNA.

By the time I was done and washed my hands of the whole business, my nephandi was convinced that he had wandered into some sticky, vag scented hell where no one would acknowledge his presence or understood his questions or really did anything other than pile on.

This isn't a new problem; to some people RP has always been a thin justification for cybersex. But holy freaking god, do I miss the old days, or at least the old people. Sure, sometimes the stories involved fucking, maybe there was even some one handed typing involved, but for fuck's sake, there were stories and people cared about them.

I wonder if old porn stars feel this way about new porn?

In any case, life isn't all bad here in Babylon-Amanda found a quarter of shrooms while cleaning and my Ninja Pants are on sale at USCAV. On the whole-can't complain.

I'm not normally an image guy...

...but I couldn't resist this one.

Hat Tip to this ol' boy I found in the sitemeter. Thanks homie.


Created by: OnlineCriminalJusticeDegree.com

TV Crimes

No, I'm not talking about the cancellation of Firefly in the first season. I'm referring to that thing that is buzzing all over the Blogosphere, the Trayvon Martin Case. I just want to point out what we are seeing here.

What we are seeing here is the Propaganda Division of OPFOR testing once more their ability to convict a man before he ever sees the inside of a courtroom. The complicity of mainstream news media in the distortions surrounding this case has been sickening, but no more so than other cases in the past. Remember the Hutaree? Their asses were in a sling long before they ever graced the inside of a courtroom, and even now that principal charges against them have been dropped, the popular mental picture of them is too pervasive; the damage is already done. And if Zimmerman slips the conviction, the damage is already done there too, the popular image has beaten the facts of the case.

What we are seeing here, then, is the very mechanisms of our own eventual conviction. It is magnificent in a way; there are so many forms of media output that the bare truth is bound to escape in one form or another, but because so many of their target audience are already conditioned to blame white racism for any setback, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that eyewitness reports place Zimmerman was on the ground being punched, or that NBC edited the footage to make his statements appear racist, or that he was well known to be active in black community charities, or even that he is a Hispanic Democrat. And the vast majority of people are going to confirmation bias that town into charred rubble.

Be grateful for this case, Mr. & Mrs. FREEFOR. It will show you who your enemies are...and how they will convict you, when the time comes.

Black Sabbath - Tv crimes by metal-addiction

ZOMG Rig

So I'm narrowing down choices for my AK rig. So far, I only have the base unit which is the chest rig (BCS Ak Chest Rig) and I'm going to add items in the following categories.

IFAK Pouch

Radio pouch for a GMRS radio

Pistol mag pouch

Folding dump pouch

I'd also like the capability to add more magazines so I will probably get a double AK mag pouch or two to stick on there if I need it, like if the situation really just devolves into total shit and I feel that 4 more magazines would be a good idea, and just stash it in my BOB most of the time.

I could also be sold on a small admin pouch if I can think of something to put in there. Other possible items of interest would be a pouch for a flashlight, maybe a knife sheath. I'm not really into hydration pouches and bladders and shit; I'm not the kind of tactical hardcase that can't be arsed to unscrew the lid off a canteen. I can also add these items to my belt as well if I run out of room on the chest rig. Maps and PSK are in the large admin pouch built into the rig itself.

I don't suppose anyone has any genius ideas for securing my tomahawk, do they? Also, did I miss anything obvious that I need on there? I'd like to keep it minimalist.

Jon Mackey's Tale is Told

Well, I finally finished Last Call, Last Stand.

I'm not going to tease you with a pedantic outro; I don't give a shit. I'm just glad the story is done.

There are no plans for publication. Some folks have PM'ed me or emailed me to inquire if I have plans in that direction for this story, and i don't. The entire premise of the story relies on the inversion of certain survivalist fiction tropes, and that just isn't a broad enough audience to market the book to.

Rather, it was something simple, a half assed junkie morality tale with an entirely undeserved happy ending and a couple of badass fight scenes. It takes place during SHTF, but it isn't about SHTF; it is about Mackey's redemption, and like all obvious junkie-finds-his-place stories it devolves into something heavy handed and entirely too self aware. But I enjoyed writing it and apparently some motherfuckers enjoyed reading it, so in the end, I feel it's purpose is served.

In the future, I will probably add another ZS Fiction Forum story to my list, but it will have to wait until I have Codex cleaned up for publication. I have two stories waiting in the wings and honestly I'm foaming at the mouth to post them; I really like the way they both start. Like LCLS, these stories are not without purpose-they are helping me refine my ability and promote my blog and my future commercial shit.

To those of you who stuck around for the whole show: thank you. I make it a point to snub the validation of strangers, but somehow every comment on my ZS thread kept me energized enough to finish the main story. It ain't perfect, but it was free.

I've got one more post about LCLS to make before I never visit it again, one entitled "Survival Lessons from Jon Mackey." I think some of you might be surprised at the advantages Mackey has, and it will manage to tie the story in with survivalist relevance. Look for that in the upcoming week.

Thanks, you scum. It has been a hell of a ride.

Pimping and Stuff

If you linked me or blogrolled me and I haven't reciprocated, let me know. I don't always catch everything in the stat meter because I am, as The Bastard Alaskan would so kindly put it, a stoner waste of skin.

Speaking of the Bastard Alaskan, he drops some knowledge in this post. The reading comes at a time when it has become painfully relevant again.

Via Kerodin I caught wind of this bit: Neo Nazis On Patrol in Florida. That fits the fucking race war narrative perfectly. Remember these skinhead fucks are not our friends, even when they agree with us-and this is going to create more problems than it solves. How much press would this have gotten if it was a hispanic rights group patrolling instead? Do you think they know Zimmerman is a Hispanic Democrat?

If you are on Facebook, check out Punk Rock Libertarians and Punk Rock Homesteading. It has become pretty common for me to share every damn thing they post, so I thought I'd pass the link along. Remember, Tribe is where you find it.

Oh, and I got a trackback from a site I won't link here with some snarky commentary about my Unicorn Hunting post. The principal concern of the Pissants For the Ethical Treatment of Unicorns is the concept of "couples privilege." Folks, when you have to invent a new term to showcase your victimhood, there is no meaningful way to for us to communicate. We no longer speak the same language. Jah blessings on you, you strange sad creature.

Home Invasion Survival Tips

Let me preface by saying that I am nobody high speed, just a dropout stoner from southern Indiana. But I wanted to bring up a little bit about no-knock defense to those who might be interested in the concept. Take my opinion with the requisite sodium dosage. This actually evolved from Codex Kalachnikova TTP's because one of the Scum Lord's major enemy groups favors these types of attacks.

Note that I'm not going to differentiate between a no knock raid and a home invasion. Why? Because there is no fucking difference, you moron.

So, we all know how a no knock goes down-door goes off the hinges or window gets break and raked, the entry team pours through the door with the breacher going last, everyone bolts out of the fatal funnel and they proceed room to room murdering you in a single, well organized group. They face forward to present their body armor, scream "SEARCH WARRANT-POLICE!" prone out any compliant victims and pump rounds into everyone else. Then they either steal your cash and electronics or haul the survivors off to jail, whatever fits the group's MO.

So how do we engage this kind of attack? How do we recover Violence of Action in this scenario? I've thought of a couple of ways.

First off, it seems almost everything relies on an instantaneous entry. So hardening your entry points is your first step. If they can, they'll get you before you can even open your eyes, so every second they have to waste dealing with your door or window is one of the most precious seconds of your life. There are a lot of ways to harden your entrances, but remember that no method is foolproof-an enemy that can't come through the door can always come through the wall or ceiling. Nothing says "Fuck yo' OODA loop" like not gaining entry. Of course, nothing else I'm going to talk about today applies if your ass doesn't wake up when the hinges come off.

Also noteworthy: many times, they know the layout or have previous intel on the layout of your home. So one thing you can do to completely fuck them up is to alter the layout of your domain. Even something as simple as a hidden tripwire-not attached to a trap, just a strong piece of wire strung at knee level-can have gain you a half second stumble or even a full on clusterfuck if everyone tries to rush the same area at once. The enemy may have reconned your house with FLIR or what have you, but a scattering of ball bearings on the kitchen floor doesn't show up in thermal and can righteously fuck up a bunch of tightly packed, adrenaline fueled thieves. In my particular case, I have a couple of large bookshelves right by the stairs that I can flip down as projectiles and obstacles to someone trying to rush my staircase. Nothing says "Fuck yo' OODA loop" like a full wooden bookshelf dropping on your stack.

Finally, those tightly bunched groups are great for concentrating fire but also means the team is vulnerable to what I like to call "area effect spells." Anything that covers a large area can hit every single member of the stack at once. Remember, these folks stick together at almost touching distance, so operational value increases for things like pepper spray foggers or molotov cocktails that affect multiple targets at once. Nothing says "Fuck yo' OODA loop" like running around screaming on fire.

Finally, I want to say this, and this is really how The Scum Lord gets the better of the NYE PUDs in Codex; when you are being home invaded, you fucking attack. Criminals (legal and otherwise) do not expect to be attacked; they are eternally on the offensive, and they can be shocked by any sort of resistance. Even if you can't get to your web gear, even if you can't get to your rifle, even if you can't get to your knife-FUCKING ATTACK. Get in the middle of their stack; they won't shoot then, and you can do what damage you can. Maybe you won't survive-getting home invaded is dangerous business-but I'd rather the coroner has to saw my thumbs off because they are stuck in some cocksucker's stupid dead eyes instead of just finding me in the fetal position curled up under the covers. None of these fucks are expecting to be seriously attacked by someone who means it-so use it. Nothing says "Fuck yo' OODA loop" like a butt nekkid dude leaping in the middle of your group to strangle you.

Hope this has been food for thought.

Sayings from the Codex Kalachnikova

So I sat down and read the completed manuscript to Codex Kalachnikova: The Scum Lord last night. It is what it is, still-blatant cheese-but I actually found it readable, so that must be a good sign. Or do all good writers never read their own shit? Anyway, I have collected the sayings from the Codex Kalachnikova-the iron clad law of the Scum Lord's tribe-and thought you sick fucks might enjoy hearing them. Some of them are cribbed from contemporary sources, though often distorted, and some of them are just shit I made up.

Note that the Codex Kalachnikova is different from the other two distinct codexes-the Codex Bushido and the Codex Hippocratis.

Here goes:

"Above all else, survive."
"No weapon has ever neutralized what the eye never saw."
"There are no dangerous weapons, only dangerous men."
"All true authority derives from the power of life or death."
"I must, so I shall."
"Desperation can serve for courage, to the rabbit in the blocked run. For there to be courage, there must be choice."
"The greatest danger to a species is not failure, but excessive success."
"Favor the oblique angle, always-but if there is no oblique angle, a fast enough rush from head on can still be enough to throw the enemy's balance."
"He who would have you surrender your arms is attempting something you could prevent by their usage."
"Judge men by what they are, not what you wish them to be."
"There is no advantage to fighting a battle that is poorly chosen."
"All others will ask a price for you, in coin, blood or flesh. The advantage in this is that every man has his price, one way or another-and you can move him if you are willing to pay."
"Savagery for it's own sake is a sin, but even savagery has a place in the arsenal. Sometimes savagery alone is the difference between victor and victim."
"Show no weakness, for it is always your weakest point they will attack."
"To steal the resources of your enemy is to deny him and enrich yourself. You will find few trades this beneficial in war or peace."
"Lacking a willing conspirator among your enemies, incompetence in their ranks will usually suffice."
"There is no honor in sacrifice without victory; die if you must, but always win."
"Knife to a gun fight, pistol to a rifle fight, be sure to pack shovel & shroud."
"A warrior cannot be afraid of corpses, any more than a cobbler can be afraid of shoes."
"All warfare is deception; lies are the bullets of lords."
"There is no such thing as a free lunch."
"Fancy gear will not save a fool, but it will ease the wise man's life considerably."

Paging all Bronies...

MC Chris, a straight dope mother fucker if there ever was one, releases a couple of free songs every April Fool's Day. This one is Bronie themed and has a refrain that I rather like.

you can't tell me not to grow my crops / you cant tell me which sex I can marry / it's so scary the weird way that you watch

Fuckin' a right. Wait for the doom metal outro.

The free download is here if you want a copy. Good day to you, ya freaks.

Video Games I'd Like To See

A strategy game about the Western Gunboat Flotilla. Partially because brown water navy gets no love-and partially because I want to watch a flotilla of steamers and mortar rafts bang away at Island No. 10 in support of landward operations. Civil War Strategy is a common enough genre, but Naval is rare and Riverine is simply nonexistent, so I feel there is a gap in the market for history buffs. Of course, to get non history buffs in on the act, you have to make the game awesome-but what isn't awesome about ironclad steamers?

A multiplayer co-op zombie FPS done exactly right, the way people want to see it. Let's face it; zombie games are Mary Sue fare par excellance, and people don't want to play a group of random one dimensional douchebag strangers with cheesy one liners; they want to play as themselves. I propose a fully featured avatar generator and maybe an RPG skill tree, coupled with a good FPS engine, maybe Source. Since we're going full retard here, we might as well add a CoD style weapon unlock system so you can set your avatar up exactly like you want. (I'd also like to see civillian legal weapons emphasized.) Nobody has come up with the "Me & My Crew vs. Zombies" idea for some reason, and I cannot fathom why.

And since no yearly crop of games would be complete without a remake, I'm gonna propose a remake of a classic from my childhood-Silent Service. Christ on a cracker, I played the shit out of this game; I mean I actually got my ass down to the library and read up and submarine warfare just to improve my odds. I think it's high time for a bad ass submarine game on a modern platform; not just a collection of pretty cgi cutscenes but a really high end simulator. I'll never forget that gut churning tension of diving and running silent after a torpedo launch misses and a big pissed off destroyer escort comes steaming my way. Good times.