The Collapse LI: The Outside World

04 December 20XX

My Dear Lucilius:

Young Xerxes (you will remember him, the young man who had the ATV and the industrious ideas) appeared at my door this very day.  It has been quite some time since we had a visitor of any kind, so of course I asked him to step in out of the cold for a while.  Even I, from time to time, enjoy conversation.

After settling in and discussing a bit of news about the town - not a great deal you can imagine, as it is Winter:  no deaths yet, but potentially a new life which is welcome in this age of hardship - he mentioned that someone in our small burg had a home radio set up and was, at some level, getting some news from the outside world.

As I am sure you are living right now, the news from the outside world is not good.

Most of the communication, Xerxes related, comes from other small operators scattered here and about and the occasional emergency channel. The small operators are scattered away from the urban areas but at least one person continues to operate in the nearest large city.

It is the sort of thing that you are undoubtedly familiar with as well:  Starvation.  Destruction.  Burned out shells of buildings with the population dead or fled. Here, in the heart of Winter, our average temperature is in the mid twenties Fahrenheit so there is little enough movement: people either have enough and hunker down or, sadly, expire.  There is no marginal existence here.  I remember reading in the histories of Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse of the hunkered down existence the Sioux had during the Winters and how a bad year of buffalo meant a meager existence in the Winter.

In discussing this with young Xerxes, it made me think of one of the fundamental weakness the economy - can we call it our previous economy now? - had, that most all localities were completely dependent on everything coming from somewhere else.  Everyone came to assume, of course, that the trucks would always run, the ships would always sail, the trains would always arrive, bringing with them their cargoes of food and fuel and essentials.  Most places had a few specialties or things that they produced in sufficient quantities to export, but not enough variety to support a civilization.

But everything did stop.  And now, it appears, it will be a great while before comes back.

I thanked young Xerxes and told him to stop by again any time - even this old hermit has come to need a little companionship.  I sent him off with some dried fruit for himself and some for the family that had a new life coming - we can all use the calories now, I am sure.

It strikes me as a bit odd that in such a short time, our supply lines have collapsed to our locales.  On the other hand, I am sure the citizens of the Roman Empire in 477 felt the same way.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca