Fucking off from Sngapore (part 2).

In my last post on this topic, I briefly touched upon the bare basics of survival in the event of a complete breakdown of societal order in this little tropical city-state of mine, and why I ultimately feel that sans huge numbers of grashopper-folks eating each other alive or fleeing, any long-term anarchy here is going to be ultimately creating an unsustainable situation for survival as basic necessities dwindle in supply and cannot be replaced.

Personal defense

It's a little easier for you folks in the US of A and some other parts of the manosphere: you have access to guns. I do not, and indeed, private ownership of firearms is banned here. This is a double-edged sword: on one hand, it makes any potential encounters that much more hazardous and difficult to resolve. On the other, it means that if I keep myself in good shape and training, I can have an edge over most of the overfed, overweight blubber-bags that comprise a goodly proportion of Singapore's population (really, at my last yearly physical test...all the failures who couldn't even hang from the bar, let alone do a single chin-up), leaving me with the unfortunate remains: thugs, hooligans and general uncouth yahoos who'd be more than willing to stove my head in and steal my stockpile.



So this presents a wee problem. I'm not going to count on grabbing a firearm off a downed LEO, for obvious reasons, so it's down to makeshift melee weapons for me. Yes, no samurai swords of the kind you hear about being used to slash folks in the UK; all swords imported must have their edges and tips blunted beyond conventional repair. Personally, I'm going to go with Mr. Powell's recommendation and get familiar with a good crowbar. There are a number of reasons for picking this over other options:

-It can be used as a general-purpose clubbing weapon, yet has a sharp point if shit gets serious.
-Most crowbars are generally too heavy to be effectively wielded by your average office worker tubblard, which is whom I expect to meet on the street.
-Most crowbars (let's say three feet) have considerable reach over kictchen knives and cleavers, which is what I suspect most locals will gravitate to as makeshift weapons.
-While power tools can be more lethal, they also are...well, powered. You don't need anything but your muscles to swing a good crowbar.
-And finally, it's an excellent multi-purpose tool when not being actively used as a weapon. As Mr. Powell says, use your imagination; the possibilities are limitless when it comes to a crowbar.

No, I don't expect myself to be able to hold up against someone professionally trained in melee combat, but if I did run across someone in that league I'd be fucked anyways and the best option would be to run.

I like to reckon I can do that pretty well, too.

And neighbours? Well, by this point I can safely say that Singaporeans are a thoroughly atomised bunch; I'm not going to hedge my bets on any form of neighbourly love, comradeship and desire for mutual defense springing up suddenly between people, especially once the fake government glue holding everyone together dissolves. It'll just be me, and I've got to watch out for my parents, too.

Could I kill someone if it came down to a matter of survival? I'd like to say I could, but I don't know for sure, never having been tested in this fashion. It'll be something to reflect upon.

Bugging out

Since Singapore is ultimately unsustainable, at least for some time, where do I intend to go?

My original plan was to bug out 300 kilometres (if I follow the north-south highway) north to my grandmother's lands and see what can be done. As far as I know, the house is still standing and vacant thanks to my aunts and uncles squabbling over how it should be split following my grandmother's passing a decade ago. Last time I saw it, there's a well that can be operated with bucket and rope if the pump's not working, a goodly amount of land attached to the homestead, and since it was enough to support eight people I think I'll be able to sustain myself, even though I'll be learning the ropes. It's a bit run-down, and most of the furniture is now gone, lost after my grandmother left to live with us in Singapore, but it's better than nothing.

I don't expect it to be easy. In fact, I expect it to be extremely tough, considering I have practically no experience in the kind of labour that will be expected of me in maintaining and restoring the old vegetable farm. Internet articles and youtube videos can only go so far without some kind of practical experience, which will be nigh-impossible to obtain in Singapore. If I do take in stragglers, I'm going to have to filter them very very carefully.

Which reminds me: I ought to be well-armed just in case I need to clear out damned squatters. Fully expect property rights to go out the window.

Koanic has rightfully pointed out that attempting to flee to Malaysia is going to be extra problematic thanks to the almost-definite flaring up of already-bad racial tensions in the face of any sort of collapse, tensions that will almost certainly lead to wide-scale violence in the absence of a unifying factor like the federal government. Unlike Singapore, which has downplayed racial politics, the incumbent government in Malaysia has encouraged it, and it's been a point of contention between it and most of the opposition parties.

I'm honestly not sure as to whether starving to death is better than being clubbed and cut to pieces, so it will ultimately depend on what does happen in the wake of a collapse. If most of the local people here flee outwards and leave Singapore depopulated, then sure, I'd actually prefer to stay on familiar territory and see what I can make of the situation, try not to hit old power lines while I dig, and try to make a sustainable living out of the shell of Singapore that remains. Otherwise, the bug-out plan remains the same as it was, and I take a risk trying to cross that 300 kilometres on foot.

I'm not going to lie: I'm afraid. Even if I didn't live the amazingly cushy life that I do now, like most other folk in the Age of Leisure, I'd still be afraid, and you'd have to be either stupid or extremely foolhardy to not be. Aurini has linked to a fellow who lived through the Argentinian collapse, and what we're facing is going to make that look like a shell game at a circus. When humanity should be pulling together, do you seriously think the dextrose-guzzling masses on the narcotic drip will acutally pull together like decent human beings, or are they going to go all-out in a massive display of vileness and fear? History seems to favour the latter being the situation.

It's because I'm afraid that I'm actually making such preparations; a healthy dose of fear is necessary for one's survival instinct. If it were just me, I'd have the leeway to be far more cavalier with my life, but I've got my parents to look after, what with being the only son remaining around and all. I'm not going to be abandoning them - that'd just put me on the lowest ring of scum floating around.

Maybe I don't have much hope for the future, save green shoots have to come from burnt soil. We'll see.