Open the Whole Earth Catalog’s March 1970 supplement and you’ll find two strange bedfellows: “When the Enemy Attacks Have These Things Ready,” excerpted from Herter’s Catalog, and “Revolutionary Letter #3” by Diane di Prima. Both suggest supplies one might stockpile for the coming cataclysm; their divergent visions of “necessity” communicate two very different politics. Herter’s: “500 rounds of shotgun shells” would arm the nuclear family for the nuclear winter. It’s the worst guy addressing an even worse guy: “You may be able to tough it through, or do not care whether you live or not, but you should give your wife and children a chance to survive.” Hoard ammo, no homo! What looms in feminist anarchist poet di Prima's work is more vague and maybe not even catastrophic—hers is more of a luminous revolution. Di Prima: “SALT VERY IMPORTANT: it’s health and energy / healing too.” Di Prima herself lived in homes where waifs and strays came and went, always were fed, and sometimes became kin. Her poem ends: “remember the blessed American habit of bundling.” To keep warm we can all just sleep in a real pile, an allusion to an early New England tradition in which young lovers chatted in bed chastely separated by a board. Maybe these two texts are betrothed, united under the heading “Be Prepared.” With candles blown out, tucked up in the night—what might shotgun shells and salt murmur about?