jmalikauthor.bsky.social
Adventurer, swordsman, bestselling author, & minor-league rock hero. Retired gunslinger for the Illuminati at @USSOCOM.bsky.social | novelist at SFWA & Codex | SFC, USA, Ret. | Rep: Hershman Rights, NY | www.josephmalik.com. STONELANDS coming Summer 2025.
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Took me FUCKING MONTHS to format them in Word. Never. Goddamn. Again.
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It should be up for presale on Amazon shortly, but it'll be also available at all indies through IndieBound, and Barnes and Noble as well. Because fuck Amazon.
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My next book is coming out only in paper and ink. Eventually audiobook. No ebooks.
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Good lord.
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Gas-guzzlers. Huge ones. These guys have gone full MethamphetaMarines. And still, none of them can hit the floor with their weapons.
Hell, the sides of their hearts would be blowing out like underinflated tires the first time they heard an incoming round.
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Oh, hell, that's nothing. That's literally just another day out here.
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I refer to them as "Midlife ISIS." But yes.
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So, we don't talk much. But he has a gathering of white F150s at his house every few weeks. We'll just see how it goes. But I have no doubt I'll be talking to them again the next time the supply lines go down. I see them slowing down passing my garden. /end
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I should point out these scrubs had Walmart AR-15s and Chinese-made gear designed for paintball.
My rifle cost more than all theirs, together. Aerospace materials, monolithic rail atop a 41V5 alloy barrel, upper reciever treated with a jam-proof self-lubricating nanocoating harder than diamonds.
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4/ I gave him Full Platoon Sergeant Face until he stepped back.
"If you need me to teach your men the fundamentals," I growled,"Why would I want you on my side?" I spit in punctuation. "I ain't carryin' your fuckin' squad."
The bell rang, and I went back to ringing a target they couldn't even see.
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3/ Neighbor introduces me to his "Commander," who has to weigh 400 lbs. Tells him I was in the Army and "should join the team" because I could "probably teach (them) the fundamentals."
I politely declined.
Their commander said, "I'd think, when it all comes down, you'd want us on your side."
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2/ So they're shooting at a silhouette 50 yards away and missing half the time. And my neighbor recognizes me as I'm dialing in a new optic on a suppressed $2500 LWRC AR a few lanes away, ringing steel at 200 yards and looking bored. Because zeroing a new optic is boring.
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Last time I saw these dimwits at the range, they were benchresting in full battle rattle--helmets, gloves, plate carriers--SITTING AT A TABLE AND SHOOTING OFF IT (and missing). One of them had his optics on backwards. Another had Doritos in a dump pouch because "Train as you fight," I guess. 1/
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They are gorgeous. They fit right in along your flowerbeds, 8-10' tall. We have sunflowers, roses, wild raspberries, hops . . .
They propagate like bamboo and the roots are fingerling potatoes; you just have to soak them for 24 hours.
No one ever has to know it's a survival stash.
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A local church out here has a militia (excuse me, "neighborhood security association") and one of those dorks lives on my road. I can envision them coming by in a crisis asking for "donations." And when I tell them to kiss my muscular Blackfeet ass, they'll probably rob my garden. But that's fine.
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Everybody should have them. They're not native to this area, which is why I keep them contained, but they've been THE survival crop in North America for 5,000 years.
I was in Africa with Army Civil Affairs. Disaster relief and survival farming instruction were core competencies. I paid attention.
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Also, they're a nightshade, so anyone who DOES know foraging would stay away because eating strange nightshade roots can be a really good way to end up dead with the doctors laughing at what a dumbass you were.
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Plant them in a wildscaped garden bed next to roses and sunflowers, and they're invisible.
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My ace in the hole is a bed of Jerusalem artichokes, hell & gone from the garden. Drought-tolerant, invasive, hardy as fuck, and invisible to thieves unless they really know their woodscraft.
You can live indefinitely on Jerusalem artichokes, small game, and berries. My Blackfeet ancestors did.
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Our seed potatoes that we thought died last year are back this year. Idk what happened. Zombie potatoes. I'll take 'em, though.
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And this is on Puget Sound, one of the least climate-impacted areas in the country. What are gardeners doing in zones where there's catastrophic climate fuckery going on? The mind reels.
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The weirder the climate gets, the more control we need. Removable cold frames, shade sails, permeable sun shades, mosquito netting, bird netting, various sizes of drippers; the setup changes every few weeks. There's no way to know what the weather will do in two weeks. It's a contact sport.
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It's over. Humanity lost. Time for the cockroaches to shoot their shot.
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Amazon. They're about $75 apiece, marketed as temporary coldframes. They make all the difference in the early season.
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Yeah. Science shit. He's very, very smart.
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Life-changing.
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I have a buddy who's a neurotrauma ICU nurse. He had a patient with a tumor in the roof of his mouth; for months, when he was conscious, he'd scream uncontrollably while bleeding from his eyes. New thing to wish on all MAGAts.
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Fucking hell. Unmarried.