When The Collapse Comes, Will FEMA Camps Look Like Club Med?

Dees Illustration

John Galt

Activist Post

The collapse of American society occurs in early 2011. The system was fundamentally headed toward this stunning unraveling for decades, but it took a multi-city nuclear “terror” attack on American soil to plunge the system into chaos.

Food, fuel, and medicine supply lines disappeared overnight and money quickly became useless. It was every man for himself and there was little the government could do to stem the flow of anarchy and looting in the streets.

Roving gangs of armed thugs began to stalk suburban streets, ransacking homes for rations. It is a time where everyone is gripped by fear and uncertainty. Communications are temporarily jammed, forcing those with electricity or battery radios to be glued to emergency broadcast signals. Reports of more bombs and street violence fill the airwaves.

You’ve just finished the last of your canned goods, water is no longer coming out of your tap, and the batteries are getting low in your car as you huddle to listen to the radio, refusing to turn it off for fear of missing important instructions. You gaze into your family’s terrified eyes and contemplate your dismal options.

The government announces one-time sweeps of neighborhoods to “rescue” desperate citizens from the anarchy and bring them to gathering centers or camps where they will be guaranteed food and security. You’ve read articles and have seen movies about the nefarious nature of FEMA camps being described as prison internment camps — and you remember post-Katrina New Orleans — but what choice do you have?

You’ve exhausted your supplies, most of your neighbors already ran for the hills to stay with their extended family. Now, you begin to hear the rumbling patrols of bandits coming up your street smashing into your neighbors’ homes. Just then you hear a government chopper marking its landing. The bandits duck and hide when they hear the helicopter, and the National Guard soldiers call out for survivors over the loudspeaker . . . .

You feel relieved to be on the chopper safe and sound with your family and a few precious belongings. You think to yourself, “This won’t be so bad. Heck, they may even have TV to watch all the news of the unfolding chaos in safety, and at least we can use a toilet that flushes.” Upon arrival, you learn that the camps will be on lockdown 24/7 for the inhabitants’ protection — at least until the tension dissipates.

Nonetheless, your family is grateful to cram into one room with cots to bunk on, one chest to store your personal items, three square meals a day, and dorm-style bathrooms to share with floor mates. You’re happy to be assigned a job to feel useful during this time of crisis and to occupy your mind. It’s also nice to have the support and companionship of other refugees, and you scarcely have time or energy to reflect on the prison-like rules in the complex.

As time progresses, more people are rescued to the camp and a functioning mini-community takes form, all under the watchful eyes of armed soldiers. The more time that passes, the more that free-thinking inhabitants begin to question how the government is still able to get food to the camps when there is such overwhelming disruption still displayed on the TV.

Realizing that food is still being grown and processed somewhere, it appears that it must be calm and tranquil somewhere. You begin to imagine beautiful farms with open corn fields, vegetable gardens, fresh milk, and swallows in the barn. Suddenly, you remember what it’s like to be a free human being where strenuous work on the farm to achieve self-sufficiency seems far more appealing than the strictly enforced rules and menial tasks at the compound. You decide to pack the family to leave the compound and brave the wild unknown in search of independence.

However, the warden of the compound refuses to allow you to leave, as he’s still convinced that it is far too dangerous to let anyone except armed soldiers to go off campus under his watch. He claims that other camps have allowed people leave only to find them slaughtered a day or two later.

Others begin to question their freedom, too, and a large group forms an alliance to venture out together. The warden then declares it a crime against the community’s collective well-being to defect, claiming their jobs are too important to the survival of the compound.

Reality now sets in. Everyone immediately realizes that they are a prisoner. From then on life becomes nearly unbearable, but after a few years the best behaved inmates may be able to relocate into highly monitored condos in sanitized communities. Never mind the cameras in your house, they’re for your protection. Keep your head down and do your duty.

Let’s get real for a moment. Given all we know about corporate-government false flags and plans for FEMA camps, will we have the courage when we look into the scared eyes of our children to refuse government “help” when the manufactured collapse comes? Perhaps you’ll be prepared with a month or two of rations, but, assuredly, that is when the remaining masses will be most desperate as well.

Tell us what you would do . . . .