Editor’s Commentary: We often pass on videos and articles by Epic Economist for various reasons. Sometimes, they’re spot on with their analysis. Other times they’re a bit too “click-baity” with not enough useful information to justify publishing their often-outrageous headlines.
I came very close to passing on today’s video/article because it delves into fearmongering. While there are clearly reasons for being concerned about the direction of our nation, the failing economy, geopolitical threats, and our own anti-American leaders driving the country into the ground, it’s difficult to imagine people needing to hunt rabbits like Elmer Fudd (though hopefully with more success) because otherwise their families will starve to death.
Then, I remembered something that I often tell others. “Just because something would have been unimaginable a couple of years ago doesn’t mean it’s not a certainty to happen today.”
No, I do not think it’s a certainty that we will be driven into something as bad if not worse than the Great Depression in which the masses are fighting over ketchup packets to survive, but it would be imprudent to think that’s impossible. That’s why I decided to publish today’s AI-voice-driven Epic Economist fearmonger piece. We can hope they’re wrong. We can do what we can to prepare. But at the end of the day we might find ourselves eating squirrel or nothing at all so it’s better to err on the side of caution. Here’s Epic Economist…
On October 29, 1929, the U.S. stock market faced a devastating crash that resulted in the crisis that we know today as the Great Depression. During that period, millions of Americans lost their jobs, their incomes, and their homes, and countless families faced homelessness and hunger.
Some people survived because they started to plant their fruits and vegetables and raise animals to make their meals. But for many others, that wasn’t an option so they had to improvise with the ingredients they had available. Back then, the vast majority of Americans had to stretch every dollar and pinch every penny to get the most food for their buck.
Conditions were so extreme that desperate people started to do things that would be unthinkable during normal times just to have something on their plate. For instance, while some people only did this when it was roadkill, others actually hunted squirrels to eat.
Those were times when panic and desperation were rapidly spreading through our society, and some Americans had to fight to survive. Eating squirrels was not uncommon in the 30s. Beef was out of the reach of many struggling households, and chickens were kept alive so they could provide eggs, so options were limited.
People hunted, foraged, and learned to make the best of what they had on hand. Canned goods, flour, eggs, and milk sometimes were all families had, and still, they created many different recipes with humble food staples. Those who could eat twice a day were the lucky ones. Poor families only had one meal per day, and parents went hungry at nighttime so they could feed their children.
Even though this happened almost one century ago, the struggles of that time are still in the nation’s memory, especially because current economic conditions are becoming eerily similar to what happened in the late 1920s and at the beginning of the 1930s. Today, we have the most overvalued stock market in history.
The housing market is falling apart, with commercial properties setting off the downfall, the economy is slumping while consumer prices are still soaring, and thousands of companies have already announced mass layoffs this year.
To say that life has changed dramatically in the past few years is an understatement. For those who are fortunate enough to still have jobs, making ends meet is no more an issue than normal. But for those who have lost their income entirely, from now on, money will be a bigger problem than ever before. This, however, is not the only burden Americans are facing right now. Grocery stores and big-box retailers are reporting empty shelves for several staples once again, and every time we go shopping, prices are up again.
Although we genuinely hope that our population doesn’t reach the same levels of despair and financial ruin that American families faced during the Great Depression, there plenty of statistics indicating that we are headed to a historic downturn. That’s why we must learn from history, and get ready for the hardships before they reach us.
Even the UN is warning that a Depression-era famine will happen again, so preparing for the next economic and financial disaster is definitely a matter of survival. For that reason, we compiled some recipes that our parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents made back then out of nearly nothing.
The List
- Squirrel
- Desperation Pie
- Chicken Feet in Broth
- Meatless Meatloaf
- Garbage Mashup
- Ketchup, Mayonnaise, Onion, or Pickle Sandwich
- Mlikorno
- Egg Drop Soup (1930s version)
- Cooked Break
- Shoo-Fly Pie
- Navy Bean and Ham Soup
- Frozen Fruit Salad
- Spaghetti With Boiled Carrots and White Sauce
- Buttermilk Soup
- Johnny Cakes
- Potato Candy
- Stuffed Artichokes
- No-Toppings Pizza
- Poorman’s Pudding
- Rabbit Stew and Dumplings
Two Storms, One Harvest
Every food crisis in living memory has been a one-shock event. The 2008 price spike was a commodity bubble. The 2020 shortages were a logistics failure. The 2022 grain scare was a war on one exporter’s ports. Each time, the system bent, adjusted, and recovered, and each time the experts assured us afterward that global markets are simply too big and too diversified to fail.
What nobody in Washington seems eager to discuss is that 2026 is shaping up to be something the modern food system has never actually faced. Two independent shocks, one climatic and one geopolitical, are converging on the same harvest cycle at the same time. Not sequentially. Simultaneously.
Start with the weather. The Pacific Ocean is currently building toward what forecasters now openly call a record event. NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of at least a strong El Niño near 88 percent, with roughly two in three odds it reaches “very strong” status, the tier reserved for perhaps three or four events in the entire satellite era. Every major global model now projects a median peak in Super El Niño territory, and most of them project it exceeding the 2015-16 event, which until now held the modern record. Sea surface anomalies were already brushing the super threshold in mid-July, months before these events normally peak. The atmosphere has already shifted into El Niño mode, and the event is forecast to crest in late fall and early winter.
This is not about “climate change.” It’s about the standard cycles of weather, and the cycle we’re currently in is one that has likely devastated societies in the past. We’re better prepared as a society today, but not all Americans are equally prepared.
Serious households have started doing the quiet math on their own. Grocery bills tell part of the story, and the forecast maps tell the rest, which is why long-term food storage has moved from fringe hobby to mainstream line item in the family budget, with established suppliers like Heaven’s Harvest seeing demand from people who five years ago would have rolled their eyes at the idea. That instinct is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition, and the pattern is worth walking through carefully.
Editor’s Note: Heaven’s Harvest IS a sponsor, but the warnings of this article are real and would be written even if we didn’t have a survival food sponsor. With that said, those who take advantage of what they offer can use promo code “Patriot” for 15% off.
The Fertilizer Clock Is Already Running
While the Pacific warms, the second shock has been unfolding in the Strait of Hormuz. The conflict with Iran turned the world’s most important energy chokepoint into a contested waterway, and the consequences reach far beyond the gas pump. Roughly a third of global fertilizer trade moves through Hormuz, and the disruption sent urea prices up 86 percent year over year by March, with a 53 percent jump in a single month.
The World Bank projects energy prices rising about 24 percent in 2026 and fertilizer about 31 percent. By its own accounting, fertilizer prices ran 35 percent higher in the first five months of this year than the same period last year.
Here is the mechanism the nightly news will not explain. Fertilizer is not a grocery item. It is a time-delayed input. The nitrogen a farmer in Iowa or Punjab could not afford to apply this spring does not show up as a problem this spring. It shows up as a thinner harvest six to twelve months later.
The World Bank’s own food security brief concedes that the effects of reduced applications earlier this season “are likely to become visible only later in harvest outcomes.” Translate that from institutional language into plain English and it means this. The damage is already done, it is already in the ground, and we are simply waiting for it to arrive on the shelf.
Now check the calendar. Six to twelve months from the spring planting season lands us squarely in late 2026 and early 2027. Which is precisely when the strongest El Niño in the instrumental record is forecast to peak, bringing its signature droughts to Southeast Asia, Australia, southern Africa, northern Brazil, and South Asia, the very regions that grow the world’s rice, sugar, and oilseeds.
The World Bank warns openly that a strong El Niño “could disrupt multiple crop belts simultaneously” on top of the conflict-driven input costs. Their baseline projection assumes the Middle East disruptions ease by autumn. What in the last two years of Middle East history suggests that assumption is safe?
The System Has No Slack Left
The comfortable answer is that global markets always adjust. But adjustment requires slack, and the slack is gone. Global cereal production is expected to decline from last year’s records even before El Niño does its work. The UN World Food Programme, hardly a den of right-wing preppers, is calling this the most significant disruption to its supply chains since Covid and the invasion of Ukraine, and its supply chain director put the stakes bluntly.
Today’s supply chain challenges are tomorrow’s hunger crisis.
There is also a political dimension that markets cannot price. When food gets scarce, governments do not behave like economists. They behave like politicians. Export bans, hoarding mandates, and panic buying at the national level turned the modest rice shortfall of 2008 into a global crisis, and analysts are already warning that import-dependent nations are the first dominoes.
The 2015-16 Super El Niño, a far weaker event than what is now forecast, threw tens of millions into food stress across Africa and Asia. This one is projected to be stronger, and it arrives with fertilizer already rationed by price and shipping lanes already contested by missiles.
What Joseph Knew
Scripture does not treat preparation for lean years as faithlessness. It treats it as wisdom delivered in advance to those willing to act on it.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt.
Joseph did not respond to that warning with a hashtag or a committee. He stored grain during the years of abundance, and when the famine came, Egypt stood while its neighbors begged. The lesson is not that famine is certain. It is that the time to prepare is precisely when preparation still looks optional.
Nobody who filled a pantry in a year of plenty has ever regretted it, and nobody standing in an empty aisle has ever been glad he waited for certainty.
None of this calls for panic, and panic is the enemy of sound judgment anyway. It calls for the same unglamorous prudence our grandparents considered ordinary. Keep some cash margin, know your local growers, and put real food in deep storage while it is cheap and available, because the entire arc of this story is that cheap and available is a closing window.
Families looking for a straightforward place to start can visit Heaven’s Harvest and use promo code Patriot for 15 percent off long-term storable food. The forecasts may yet soften, the strait may yet reopen, and we should pray they do. But hope is a fine thing to hold and a foolish thing to eat.
