C5 Survival Advice from South America Part 6 – Ass Pain- Episode III – Return of the Jedi Ass Pain

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With your Host, Category5.

*(The disasters written about here happened a few months ago so dont be looking at me as a news source)


— A Long Time Ago, On A Continent Far Far Away —

—- I had a plan —-

…It was a very nice plan before the Gods of Murphy got involved….


————————————– Ass Pain- Episode III———————————–

———————————-Return of the Jedi Ass Pain——————————-


*(Continued from Episode II- The Ass Gods Strike Back….)

……I was only into the, cross town, evac practice bicycle trip for 10 minutes before I realized this hatless thing was not cool. Ass pain #2.

For whatever reasons, men don’t go topless here other than at the beach. I was warned before coming here that they get rather miffed about naked vacationing gringos. Me, I could walk down the street buck naked without shame. I don’t feel dirty about it. Naked people are far less erotic or interesting than enticingly clothed ones. Never trust anyone in a bathing suit at a nude beach.   I had to break some social taboos but I figured I was moving too fast to give insult. I took my T-shirt and wore it like an Egyptian pharo so my head, neck and shoulders would be fine while allowing my neck and throat to breath off heat like a water/air cooled engine. That is a survival lesson by the way. Don’t cook your brain. The sun is no joke here. I have gotten sunburned through clothes here. I made it to the other side of town on the bike, no problem, but realized along the way that I could only carry packs or Mrs.C5. Not both. I would need to build a Jamaica pannier shelf.

The main office didn’t need me at all. In fact, they looked at me like I was overzealous agro guy. Ass pain # 3. The good news is that the competent head honcho of the organization has a degree in disaster management. From here on in I’ll just call him CHH.

So I had to ask, “What rumours”.

CHH:  “People are saying certain areas aren’t getting water because of punishment for not supporting the president in the past”.

Me: “Aw. Situations like this can lead to protests or civil unrest for past wrongs. Are we in any danger? You have a plan for that right?”

CHH: “There is a few protests but nothing like that. Our priority would be getting the volunteers out of the country if that happened. You would only see riots if it was found that disaster supplies were being siphoned off to friends of someone in power. People are also worried about food getting into the city. Speculators are raising prices.”

Me: “Yes. I’ve noticed the prices increases in the grocery stores. No real sales either. Just fake sales. I have been meaning to look at your supplies. Canned goods are brutally expensive here. How much water do you keep on hand?”

CHH: “A couple hundred liters. Yes, the canned goods are expensive here. We cycle them out when they get past date. If a disaster hit somewhere we will send our food supplies and purchase fresh ones.”

Me: “I have been meaning to talk with you about that. Canned goods don’t really go bad. They are still opening cans from WWII that are edible if they were packaged correctly. There is no bacteria in a can if it is done right. That is the point. If there is, you will notice that the can swells or it will squirt out liquid when you try to open it. Dispose of those. That’s botulism and you can’t do anything to save those. Boiling will not kill that. Old cans will lose some nutrition over time and the texture may lose quality but I would always keep old cans. Do not confuse the peak freshness, sell by, dates as being expiry dates… wait. Never mind what I just said. If you have the funds the cycle your food into feeding disaster victims while bringing in fresh stores, keep that up. I have lost way too much of my charitable side along the way. Just don’t get caught empty handed.”

CHH: “The issue is corruption. Contracts for infrastructure go to friends of the government and these contractors siphon off much of the money while not properly upgrading the infrastructure to handle these situations. No one in power is taking the effects of climate change seriously and the people refuse to remember. In 2 years, people won’t remember what happened here.”


(News update – the death toll has risen to over 100.  700,000 left homeless. 200 bridges are gone connecting communities. 2000 kms of highways destroyed. Major food crops destroyed including ones Mrs.C5 was studying.)


Me: “I don’t want to get involved with the political side since I haven’t been around long enough to judge, nor will I be here next year… but I figure corruption goes both ways. I noticed politicians attacking the government immediately afterwards. Sharks waiting for chum in the water and promoting their own social positioning for their own chunk of future loot. We have the same problem with infrastructure back home but for different reasons. Our infrastructure was built when the North American empire was in its perpetual growth phase. Now that we are in economic decline we can’t afford to maintain the huge infrastructure system we built let alone replace it.”

CHH tried to keep a poker face but I could read his thoughts. I figured his internal self talk was going something like this.  “You delusional, spoiled, pussy Canadian. How can you possibly compare the two. You have everything”. I didn’t figure it was worth pushing but I stand by my statement. As much as people like Michael Moore might yell, “we are not broke”… we are broke. I heard a great quote recently, “How did you go broke?” “Slowly at first… then all at once”.

CHH: “The main problem we face in development work is that development shouldn’t be trying to develop to be like America. We need to develop different living arrangements. No one in government is taking climate change seriously. Look at this flooding. Two years from now no one will remember that this took place so no one will be willing to invest in the huge, necessary infrastructure rebuilds, so this is going to happen again and again and again.”

Me: “Yes. No one is doing the essential life changes because though they say they believe it, they don’t really believe it.”

Remember the Kubler-Ross stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. In North America those that dress to the right are generally in the denial/anger phases. Conservatism will do this to you.

Denial – it’s all a conspiracy. The Jews and the papacy through the Trilateral Commission did this to create a one world government to usher in the anti-christ and put freedom loving conservative Americans in concentration camps to give them the number of the beast. Anthropomorphic global warming isn’t happening. It is a world wide cabal of Evil Scientists that hate freedom and religion…and they have managed to join forces and lie about the data…in spite of that their governments hate each other. It’s all a conspiracy of evil scientists.   Oil is abiotic and all of those empty wells are actually full and it’s only to push up prices.

Yes, it sounds even stupider outside of my head.

Or they are in the Anger phase – “If any dirt worshipping, Libtard, snowflake tried to take away my right to poor old motor oil, farm nitrates, mercury and lead into the river like my grandpappy did, I will shoot them dead. Fags. You can pry my pickup truck, big screen TV  and Coors light from my cold dead fingers.”

Yeah. Yeah. Prove it, Light Beer. When you are weeping over the shit expelling corpses of your children, tell me how well that plan worked out for you.

Now, those who dangle to the left are generally in the Bargaining/Depression phase. The Gandhi/Martin Luther King/and Marx, pray for us now and in our hour of need, phase.



Oh Gaia, won’t you buy me a Tesla in red. My friends all drive Prius.  I must make amends.

Prove that you love me cuz I changed my lights. And make it all paid for by deplorable rights….


Yup. The rallying cry of the left is, “why isn’t the government doing something. Give us free solar panels so we can charge our electric cars to go to the mall and buy green sounding products made by brown people… er… I mean indigenous ancient cultures on the slopes of some ancient rainforests… then shipped across half the planet by magic fairy dust. And if you don’t give us free stuff, we will arrange a nonviolent protest and whear vagina hats on our head. That will show them all. By globally, wear vagina hats locally.” Well that’s surely enough to bring the empire to its knees, isn’t it?

Bargaining on the ideology fix or the techno fix is just as much denial as global warming denial. It allows you to not do anything to actually change or save your own life. Deciding to eat quinoa MAY be part of the solution. Eating quinoa from half way across the planet, tilled and harvested with diesel and laboured over by assorted shades of brown coloured serfs … not so much. Now growing your own quinoa… by hand… at a substantial loss of time and financial investment and Caribbean holidays…

Nah. You are still not ready for the acceptance phase. Not yet.



(speaking of depression – news update – Forgive me father. It’s been a week since my last confession. Another 254+ bite the dust one country over. Same culprit. A rain bomb sent an avalanche of mud through a city. If this were a movie, they would be playing “Don’t fear the reaper” by Blue Oyster Cult at this point. More cowbell. But it’s not a movie.  Back to depression.)

The next phase where liberals end up is, “Let’s take a moment to mourn for our brother whales. To grieve for our mother earth.” Grieve quickly. This is where most lefties get stuck.


Well, Gandhi and John Lennon can’t save you now.


As I have mentioned, several people around me have been agreeing with me lately and yet are not doing anything to save their own lives or those of their children. I have heard the exact same comment from two of my friends over a hemisphere a part. “If it is going to be like the Road Warrior, I don’t want to live. I want to be right where the bombs go off.” I have tried to argue why that reasoning doesn’t work. It’s highly unlikely you are going to be directly under a bomb. Yada yada yada. Food is the much bigger issue because starvation is painful, and has a tendency to drag on for a long time. Especially if you decide to eat along the way. It dawned on me that their response is not honest. Honest is the wrong word. There is a complex, psychological self protection thang going on here. Like a person freezing under stress. Your ancient monkey instinct. If I freeze up and don’t run, it wont trigger the Jaguars ancient instinct to pounce, chase and eat me. If I seize when it attacks, it might think I am dead and get bored. Better a wounded monkey than to be Jaguar poop.  What it means is “If people think I am becoming a crazy survivalist, if it’s going to cost me some of my privilege, if I have to change, I’m not going to do it.”

Howard Kunstler hit the same wall. When he did his presentations, he continually heard “Don’t give me all this doom and gloom. Give us solutions.” He eventually realized those that said this … were lying. There are lots of solutions that no one wants to hear because they are very painful. What they were really saying was, “Please god, give us answers that allow us to drive to the Walmart forever” which is the master wish of our culture.

Or to the organic farmers market for Free Trade coffee, depending on which side of the political spectrum you dress on. What team you cheer for. A bisexual swings both ways joke fits in here somewhere but I’m getting nothing.

Now Chris Martenson, the nice guy of the apocalypse says, “Please understand that this stuff we are sharing is not information. It is belief challenging material… For a while I had my own emotions involved which is sort of, hyperactive angry guy. Pretty soon I was talking to a bunch of hyper active angry people (insert laugh track here) and I realized I wanted to expand that choir so I had to dial that back. What I learned from that is that our emotional state attracts other people that share that but it repels everybody else… (The five stages of grief when facing death) is actually the process I see people going through when talking about this material. So, Compassion First for wherever they are, is my first rule… then second is, Curiosity, like asking, where are they… and trying to meet them there instead of trying to make them come to where I am. That is where I have been most effective.”  If only we could all be like Chris. I’m far too narcissistic.

I guess I am still in the anger phase about the denial phase of our culture… or is all this blogging just bargaining. It’s depressing.




I generally find the best way to do this is humour. Making fun of the sheer ridiculousness of it all….and it is ridiculous. I have been around or chatted online with plenty of paranoid, angry survivalists. They suck. This general suckingness is why they are often alone in this endeavour and proceed to tell people that the only way to survive is to be paranoid and have no friends.

I think they embrace sucking because they just can’t dance. In the words of a friend of mine, “If there is no dancing, I don’t want any part of your Apocalypse”. Cute. Bonus points go to those that get the cultural reference. Hint. Its from the 70s. I have said for several years now that we need more apocalyptic dance parties.

Do you think I’m joking? This would allow unthreatening entry into a social group, build small group social cohesion, build codes of conduct by observing community elders, and probably most important, creating apocalyptic dating possibilities and thus the motivation of social climbing by providing social proof.


“Hey baby. Want to come back to my homestead and check out my food pantry. I’d sure like to see how well your garden is tended. Why yes. I do have protection. It’s a Ruger.” (That keeps getting funnier each time I reread it. I think I peed a little)


I’m joking a little but I’m not joking. It Humanises prepping. Maybe you have heard the joke, Why don’t Baptists have sex standing up? Because it might lead to dancing. Buduptupt. Okay. Maybe it is just a theologians joke…that tracks back to the influence of Greek gnostic influence on the pre Augustine church due to the influence of the Apostle Paul’s inclusiveness of other cultures ….and explains why I cant go topless in this catholic country even if it will save my life….never mind. Here is some groups that get it.

Waistland Weekend…



The SCA.


This is no joke. The SCA is the second largest free standing army after the Chinese. They are also #3 on my list of who survives after #1 organised crime. Organised crime is better than disorganised crime. (a later subject) and # 2. Organised sports teams and their followers that have toppled governments before.(no interest) In my travels of studying subcultures within our own culture, I have returned several times to the Clinton war. Fantastic farm party and better organised than any survival group. The girls sing a campfire song that goes something like this.¨ If you can’t laid at Clinton, you cant get laid anywhere¨. I added a few notches there, myself. If the future is going Medival…beat it to the Visigoth constitutional christian reconstructionist U.S.militias sacking Rome.

And then there is Zombie Squad.

Very humanising.


Back to my conversation with CHH.

Me: “I get the need for building different social arrangements. It’s sort of why your organization brought us here. We started a ¨potentially¨ self-sufficient farm separated from industrial centres with plans to start an intentional community based around mini-homes, consumer lifestyle reduction and climate change adaption. We want other people to be able to visit and model for others some of the things we have done.” (I’m not sure we can pull that off but…)

CHH: “Yes, we want do that as well but we have children so we must stay here.”

And there we go. The internalized excuse that keeps a person from active change. It’s not my intention to shame this person. Not at all. We all have our own psychological blocks. It´s just to show that even a competent person with a disaster management degree, full knowledge of the apocalypse at hand, the leadership skills to run an organization, the moral imperative to feed victims of climate chaos and social instability, a good and diligent person, has put up his own blocks to action and adaption. We all have some of these blocks.


Seeing as there was nothing I could do to help there it was time for me to head back home.


That is when I noticed my tire was flat. Ass pain #4. No money in my pocket. No tools to remove a wheel. No water. Midday sun with no hat. No knowledge of where to find a tire repair place. The only place I knew was back near my home on the other side of the city.

Some survival expert I turned out to be. I suck! I can just hear the gods laughing at me. You’ve tolerated my writing long enough so I will save you the story of the slow, grueling, un head clad, walk home that left me with heat stroke, sunburn, a few days of headaches and to add insult to injury, my river sandals took that moment to give out. That meant hours of hearing my footwear going “flop, flop, flop, flop…” I suppose a failed shoe can be lethal in certain situations. Death by sandal.

A couple of weeks later Mrs.C5 asked me why I hadn’t been venturing out lately. I explained to her that I no longer felt confident being that far from home. Well, that would not stand. I now have a pump, patches, glue and tools that I never leave home without and I am back to bicycling far beyond my safety boundaries.

Let’s add one more comment from CHH.


CHH: “The biggest danger we face is if the flooding washes mining trailing ponds into the river. That would poison this city’s entire drinking water”. Plus everyone else upstream.

Let’s make sure everyone heard that correctly. Without that river, 10 million would have to be evacuated within very few days. 10 million climate refugees. 10 million lives destroyed by industrial waste. 10 million people to instantly transport, house, feed, and provide security for. Consider the Syrian refugee crisis but on steroids and crack because this would be instant. Consider the evacuation of Fort MacMurray Alberta but add another 9 million people with nowhere to go that could take them in… and surrounded by lifeless, waterless desert. Now consider Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans and how long it took for the authorities to organize rescue. Now let’s add in 200 bridges destroyed and 2000 km of highway gone. Enough said. More cowbell. Now call me a cynic. In a disaster in that magnitude I suspect that the government would cover up the poisoning of the water and it would just be expected that people had to live with that.


So, now for the big survival advice you are all here for.

The real tough stuff.

Filling some water bottles is easy. Buying a bike and pump is easy. Deciding to ride it takes some actual effort but this doesn’t really mean you in the acceptance phase. It’s time for you to go outside and examine where you live. I want  you to imagine what would happen if your area was hit by one of these rain bombs… because it is coming… over and over and over again. Where will the water flow. Do you live on a floodplain. This is often where people settled because it is fertile farmland, easy transport and close to water source. The essential farmland was destroyed to make Suburbs. A self fulfilling Apocalypse.   Hint. It’s called a floodplain for a reason. Are you near a river. I’ve seen rivers rise 20 feet. Banks washout. Even man made ones to prevent flooding. If water is coming from a higher height, where will it flow past your home. What exactly is above you. Is that ground stable or will it wash onto you in one huge mudslide. Is your roadway going to act as a river system. If a nearby river gets jammed up with debris, where will the water flow next as in what happened during the 2013 Alberta floods. What exactly is upstream from you? What industry is there? Will anything nearby go boom if water takes out a maintenance generators? Most importantly, is there a dam that will eventually fail… because eventually they are all going to fail. Have the watersheds been logged, destroying the ability to hold land in place. Thank you logging industry. Not. Now do the same exercise about where you work, where your kids go to school, and the route you would need to take to get home or away.


If you don’t like what you see, I have a very simply answer for you to solve this problem. Move.


And this is where I will lose Viewers and Subscribers. This is the Jesus and the Rich Man moment. For those not theologically inclined, the rich man asks Jesus, ¨what should I do to attain life?¨. (Sorry, I can’t help you with the eternal part. I am not that smart) Jesus gives him the simple answer like me saying “move”. Release your possessions to the poor and follow me. Don’t worry I am not starting a C5 cult. If you are looking for advice on what to put into a bugout bag or what rifle to buy or how to make a slingshot shoot arrows, I can’t help you. I won’t help you. Those things are for the 1st four stages of grief and are all phases of Denial.


Acceptance means moving out of the way of that wall of water… years in advance.


Anyone I read that talks about global warming usually ends the horror story that they just wrote with, “If the government doesn’t do something soon it will be too late”. This is denial. I hate to tell you this but it’s already too late… and last time I checked, all the people outside my window are busy expanding the problem at this point. Acceptance means Adaptation. It means changing your life, not just slapping on a coat of greenwash. Of Whitewash. If you say you believe in climate change but live in places susceptible to the effects of climate change, you don’t really believe in climate change. You are just preachy and annoying, like the followers of one of those tele evangelists. If you believe in economic collapse but don’t have a garden or food source and a woodstove, if you buy stuff on your credit card and have a 25 year mortgage, you don’t really believe in economic collapse. You are just a political nerd. A soon to be homeless nerd.

So you now know what I will tell you to do. You know what Jesus would tell you to do. But it’s at times like this I ask myself WWCMD. That would be “What would Chris Martenson so”. (Yes, I know it is a running joke where I use Chris Martenson as the Jesus figure cause he is just so dammed nice.) Well I suck at that part. My natural tendency in the face of people not changing their life is to pull a Monty Pythons, Quest For The Holy Grail, moment. “Go away or I shall taunt you a second time”, in an “OUTRAGEOUS ACCENT”.

Compassion for where people are at. Curiosity of where people are at in the 5 stages of grief.

In the face of my admitted failed Jedi training and potentially murderous rage at the non-theft of my wallet, Chris channels his Power Animal and that animal would be a Sealion. Oh, you forgot all about that story didn’t you? So did I until a few moments ago.


So, a handful of years ago, I was on the edge of death, during the nightmare that is PTSD, cursing the gods to get their attention. If you had told me I would be swimming with sea lions in South America if I could just hold on a little longer, I would have you told you to stop free basing crack. Yet here I be, Matee’s, making completely sexually inappropriate comments about sea lions bein sexy mermaids in the eyes of lonely seamen left to long at sea. Aarrrarrr!

Our guides told us that the sea lions that would approach us would be young and curious. If they nibble at your toes or arms don’t be alarmed. They are just tasting you. And they did. They enjoyed hanging out with us as much as we with them. I started to think about that and I think the guides were completely wrong about what was going on. People come here everyday. There was nothing new to be curious about. The sea lions were not getting handouts. The guides were not giving them fish. But sea lions are very social. They swim in groups. They would look in my eyes with their even bigger deeply examining eyes, like a chiding older cousin. It suddenly dawned on me why they were nibbling at my toes and arms. While I was just trying my best to stay afloat they were trying to teach me how to swim by kicking my misshapen tail and using my long flipper like things. They would scoot away with ease from my touch and show me how they could jump out of the water. Clearly they saw us as a sort of retarded land kin. We do sort of look the same, I guess. So I think they felt a responsibility to teach us and stay with us as if we were a deformed sea lion pup. Maybe they thought if they taught us their ways we would be less dicks. Or at least maybe know our boundaries.

The guides also mentioned, under no circumstances should we touch the island. All day, everyday, when not eating, the big males are fighting for their small bit of real estate. We were warned that one time a person put his hand on the cliff to get a selfie of himself. A big male bull immediately jumped off the cliff on to the person. The social contract had been broken. The big sea lion bull was saying, “You can swim with us. We will even look out for you but if you put your hand on my property you are basically calling me a bitch that you think you can fuck. There will be severe consequences.”

I guess that’s me and the wallet. It wasn’t the 10 dollars in it. You heard me correctly. 10 dollars. It was the breach of territorial boundaries. It was someone telling me they thought they could fuck me that switched me to lethal.

In the end, I guess I am just a big sea lion bull.

I guess I should end this episode on Ass Pain by saying “I had a real poop!” I was so excited I almost took a photo of it to show you but thought better of the idea.  The Cipro had worked. I am diarrhea free.  The lesson here is that if you decide voluntarily or involuntarily to become a refugee or illegal alien without a supply of antibiotics, you may die of the shits. Or malaria but that comes later when we head to the amazon.ross swimming with sea lions 2c



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