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DEEP SURVIVAL AND THAT PESKY LITTLE AMYGDALA
The word ‘survival’ immediately brings to the minds of many of us those curious people known as ‘preppers’ (AKA: Survivalists), who are obsessed with preparing for survival when God finally brings the world crashing down around them. Others, upon hearing that word, become mindful of writing up detailed lists of things to toss into a disaster ‘BOB’ (or ‘Bug-Out Bag’). The subject under discussion here is neither of those, but rather an inquiry into what is called ‘deep survival’, or the psychology of who dies, who doesn’t and why…when the faeces hits the air circulation device. Read on…
Several weeks ago, I visited a local bookstore that graciously features some of my own books (on their ‘local writer’ shelf). Not that anyone likely cares, that store is known as ‘Crawfords’ Books’ and it has been a small but notable hole-in-the-wall feature of this local Sacramento neighborhood I presently live in.
Crawfords was formerly owned by a frusty, older couple whose collective sense of humor and good-natured jollity would probably fit easily into a sow bug’s discarded carapace, with room to spare. The new owners, by contrast, are a marked improvement over old Mr. & Mrs. Whatever, but aside from their generous embrace of my works, they have a lively intellectual take on life that is clearly reflected in the range of fascinating books (both new and…
