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Sunday, May 31, 2015

why we still have a tyrant in office

Most of us who follow preparedness blogs or have a libertarian/constitutional mindset are people who don't like being told what to do or how to do it. We are individuals who desire to live within a framework of just laws while doing our own version of our pursuit of happiness.
Which is why we still have a maniacal and evil dictator wanna-be in the White House.
I fully realize this is in fact my own failing.  I don't want to lead the free world. I don't want to hold that much responsibility. A true leader feels, and factually is, directly responsible for the lives of those in his charge. I have a hard enough time having to worry about myself and my wife. I lose sleep over her needing a new pair of shoes, or attempting to try to make my small plot of land produce sufficiently for our own meager needs. I'd be full bull goose crazy having to worry about a couple millions of the poor, huddled masses.
I'm not a leader. Nor am I comfortable being a follower. As our country was formed by the Constitution, that all men are equal, this middle-of- the-road attitude makes sense. Personal freedom requires personal responsibility. And that requires effort on our part.
Sitting here looking out at my garden I need to weed, finishing my coffee before I go feed my livestock, and running through the one hundred and one other tasks I need to complete is enough for me both mentality and physically.
But herein lies the rub. I'm not the only American with this attitude. Most of us who tire of the tyranny coming from our government are those who want to be left to our selves to live our lives in our own way, personally responsible for our own personal freedom. NOT responsible for every Tom, Dick, or Mary who only want a free ride with no accountability for their own welfare.
And governments thrive on on this. We have allowed or leaders to be selected from those who are raised by that same class of mentality where hard work and ethics is replaced with greed and lack of accountability. No longer do we search for honest men who take on the role of leadership reluctantly. We now have "leaders" willing to spend millions of (usually other people's) money in a grand competition for power. From George Washington, who gave up this honor as having done his time, we have come to the point of a self-centered, egomaniacal tyrant who would be king.
We have come to this pass due to our own willingness to let others live as we wish to live; free. We produce no leaders as no one of us wants the job. We produce no followers as no one of us wants to be told what to do.
I admit, therefore, to a certain amount of culpability in the current state of our once great nation. But it was people like you and me, a conglomeration of professionals and peons, coming to a simultaneous decision that the time had come that created this country. Hopefully the time will come again soon that we will simultaneously decide to take her back on

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Everyone's a critic

I love to cook. And it's extremely rare for a dish I create to get a poor review from those whose taste buds are assaulted by my vittles.
I also enjoy watching cooking shows. I like to see new dishes I'd like to try making my way (cheap!).
Today I happened on a show called 'Chef At Large'. This particular episode concerned a new fancy restaurant that has been open less than a month, and a food critic scheduled to review them.
Now I've been told by many that I should open a restaurant. It's not gonna happen, but I was thinking how I would handle some fucking arrogant snob coming into my restaurant to review me. I'd have the bastard seated as soon as he walked in the door, and then ignore that motherfucker the rest of the night.
No glass of water, no menu, and let him write whatever the fuck he wanted.
What's he gonna do? Write a scathing review of me not giving a flying shit what he thinks? The simple response to this would be "I don't care what he thinks. I only care what you, my patrons, think."
Now this may be backward, uninformed, possibly even a death knell for my restaurant. As I never plan to open one, the question will remain moot.
And the older I get, the more I tend to lean toward this attitude in any person who tends to be critical of others. I may not always be right, but as I am so seldom wrong, I just don't have a lot of experience in it. And frankly, I just don't give a shit what most people think. So anytime someone is so self deluded and pompous that they imagine their opinion should be the final word on anything, I generally just want to go bitch slap them.
'Critics' by definition aren't in the game to praise. Their sole purpose is to be critical. And heaven forbid anyone disagree! I doubt everyone likes the same things I do. But I do know what I like. Critical people who somehow think they are better than others and have an aggrandized view of themselves simply annoy me.
I don't require everyone agree with my point of view. We're all unique in our definitions of what's good or bad. It's not necessary for me to garner you're approval.
Because I'm right and you can just get over it.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Why survive?

I read an article this morning that got me thinking about why I prepare. Lets face it, we all have our ideal of what we want our lives to be. For some it's a material ideal, and others seek a more introspective goal of reaching enlightenment.
I started really thinking about what I really want as the final result of my worldly existence. What reasons do I personally feel make life worth living?
My fondest memories of growing up don't revolve around presents or gifts received as a child. I no longer remember, with some very few exceptions, what I unwrapped on most Christmas mornings of my youth. I do however still remember the anticipation as I waited for the day to arrive, waking early, and knowing I couldn't wait to open my gifts. But one particular Christmas morning stands out in my memory. As one by one my family awoke, we gathered around the tree, and just sat quietly. Then someone started singing Silent Night, and we all joined in. It was sung quietly, reverently, and for a short time we were just glad to all be together, all healthy, and life was quiet and serene.
There are very few days during my school years that stand out in my memory. But I can still picture in my youth every day my dad would take the time to give me undivided attention teaching me how to take care of animals, using hand tools to create something that had been a pile of leftover scrap lumber from some building project or other. How to set traps, use weapons, and process my take from the bounty in nature.
Now I'm not reminiscing on my mostly happy childhood to put you to sleep. I simply wish to set the stage as I get to the point of this post.
I don't want to die. I quite frankly have no intention of doing so. I've always been contrary, and with everyone trying to tell I 'have' to die sometime, it makes me more ornery and determined to prove them wrong. But why? What do I want to live for? America and the quality of all our lives has been constantly degraded by more and more regulation and violations of our rights. So what is it that keeps me getting up every morning to face yet another day?
I've given this a great deal of thought this morning. My granddaughter may be coming to stay for a week or so, and I've been trying to picture how to keep her 'entertained' while she's here. I have only the basic of TV, no computer, only the most basic of internet use on this POS phone. How am I going to keep her enthused about spending time with this broken down old man?
And I realized the answer lies in what gives MY life meaning. All of my fondest memories from half a century revolve around creation. Taking scraps that would otherwise go to waste, and using skills my dad patiently taught me, making a house for a family of birds to grow up in. Understanding the ring of life. Both in the birth of plants from the soil and animals from the womb. And so many small things. Painting a picnic table with my dad. Playing a mock up game of baseball with my brothers. Sitting in the woods, waiting for the squirrels to get used to my presence in their domain, and then NOT shooting one because they were having so much obvious fun. Then gathering wild plants for dinner so I could stay out in the woods and enjoy the LACK of solitude for anyone attuned to the life that abounds around us.
I realized this morning I'm not homesteading to survive, I homestead to live. To raise animals that will sustain my life, while enriching it so much in their births, their antics as they interact with both myself and their families. And yes, their deaths as I respectfully end their lives in order to continue my own.
If I can instill even a tenth of my reverence for the quiet life I prefer in my granddaughter, my life will not have been wasted. Even before I was disabled, (a relative term, btw) and I worked with drug addicted and sexually deviant teenagers, I used to bring in pots, soil, and packs and packs of vegetable and flower seeds and let any kid wanting to start a plant to nurture and grow. This simple act saved some of their lives. At least if the many who still call me on my birthdays can be believed when they say that was a pivotal point for them
So I'm not going to entertain my granddaughter. I'm going to let her entertain me as I try to instill in her that it's not he who dies with the most toys who wins. It's he who has had an enriched life on the enrichment of others.



Saturday, May 9, 2015

quickie note

any foolproof plan is dependent on the talent and ability of the fool...

Saturday, May 2, 2015