Out here I am not in society but in the world. Though some part of me is fully aware that I’m within fifteen miles of a Subway eatery, when I stand in the woods with Adam, survivalism sounds much less nutty than it did when I woke up that morning. Out here what seems nutty is that people spend the workweek doing things they hate in exchange for white pieces of paper that represent green pieces of paper that used to represent yellow metal but now represent only a collective delusion of value. Out here it’s easier to be seduced by the apocalyptic survivalist notion that, instead of nature being
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