It is that season in the Hapi Isles…. let’s vote, be unhappy, and riot a bit…
Its that season, again, in the hapi isles…
Welkom to the Hapi Isles… the fun an games, the burning and looting starts when the new Parliament is called…
Lets hope it aint too, too much…
More later
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Sunday morn on this side of the planet. I wake to hear the sabres rattling… I hear that Iran has sent war-heads towards Israel.
The word is this: “…drones and missiles launched from Iran are heading toward Israel…”.
Not good, me thinks.
Not good for a number of reasons…
Not good, me thinks.
I am still perplexed by the very quick and vehement victimisation of “Palestine”. The numerous, emotional rallies and protests, complete with chants of death and burning and gratuitous destruction. People in the streets calling for the freedom of Palestine. Death to the Jews, Death to the USA…
In my world Violence Begets Violence… Not good me thinks…
Like in the old days when someone in my family got racially slurred, I always told my tribe that the folks making the slurs were ignorant, uneducated, inexperienced, AND WRONG. Standing up against them was not required because by “standing up” we’d be “stepping down” to their level. I always counselled my young (an older) tribal members to retain your dignity, walk through the noise and bullshit, hold your head high – AND – if it got physical; be the first, be the fiercest, and be the baddest.
I very seldom condone starting a fight but I have always been known as one who would not just walk away, or limp away. I stand up for me and mine and protect what I have very viciously. I have raised my tribe understanding that sometimes you dont get to just walk away.
The sticks I make for my elder friends, family and tribal members are always and all ways designed as weapons. I consider weapons a positive.
I have walked through life armed for a long, long time. Ive been shot at, stabbed, beaten with blunt objects, won some, lost many, and have survived. And, importantly, learned from my experiences….
My decade of “civil-wars” in the Solomons were tense. What do you do when the other guy(s) have guns… answer is simple, you do what they want. I learned to create dialogue and to hold my hand out, aiming to shake a hand, and hold onto it. Its hard to shoot your gun if I hold onto one of your hands.
Anymore it’s my steel toed work boots. As long as I am shod, I am armed and dangerous. As I age the heavy boots are getting more cumbersome, but I cant stop being armed. I carry a nice ball-bat style flash-light in my truck. Handy, light, close n readily available. A nifty little bone cracker. When I am on a bike I have the option of using my helmet as a weapon. I have been in a bit of trouble on the roads in the USA. Alone, on the highways of Norther-Cali, obviously looking vulnerable… I had a knife that day.
The knife I used would be illegal here in Aus.
I dont really see the sense in carrying a gun. Too easy to be un-done for the wrong reasons but, my point is this… if you cant defend yourself you’re probably going to lose something… And, very simply, if you cant defend yourself or what you possess, be prepared to negotiate your way out. Capitulate, or Lose.
In my mind, from what I see, hear, understand, read, and know through the study of History… Israel has every right to defend itself.
Period.
I am consistently surprised by the “collective” lack of History in these (and most all) matters… recent history has seen numerous situations of war, strife, instability, death, mayhem, destruction, displacement and more…
The old Yugoslavian State fell into a decade of self-destruction. Lebanon used to be known as the Alps of the Middle East, was cosmopolitan and coool. Afghanistan had a reputation of being an amazing place to visit. The pyramids, the wonders of Mecca, Katmandu, Khartoum, Istanbul, even Tehran, in its day…
As a young “would-be” bodhisattva these were the places I dreamed of visiting. A backpack, a couple thick books, a stout stick and, in those youthful days, the world was your class room. A lot to learn, to see, to experience.
But the world has changed. People have changed. I fear the general population has become timid, meek, mild, afraid of their own shadows.
So we have Iran attacking Israel; in a loud voice, with fanfare and drumming… I note an Iranian press release through the United Nations… Cant find the quote but it was basically saying to the US to stay out of the way… Or Else…
So… I preach the word of WOOD… WOOD not WAR…
These two sticks are my first attempts to embellish with antler… left we have “Barb”, right we have “Tri-Glide”… Im very pleased with both of these sticks.
“Peregrination”…
On a lighter note… Through covid my collection of motorcycles and cars sat dormant. I am slowly bringing things back to life. Here is the amazing and bizarre Test 3D…
All registered and road ready for Mendoza to enjoy… a Tru-Exotic Motorcycle. (He says its real, real fast)… My old legs dont like the “fit” anymore.
Vroom to all and everyone…
Wood Not War…
More later
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Been cranking on a couple nice sticks…
For the Hang’n Judge of Gizo… stick is named Peregrination… Ready to fly off to the UK…
The Judge is getting both a shillelagh and a T-handle… The shillelagh is a brute…
My buddy “The Beard” suggested I get a brand for my sticks… its an excellent idea…
Got a few new tricks happening on a stick for Bro-inlaw ML… going to be a sweet stick…
Wood
not War
more later
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Monday the 1st for April.
Winter entangles chilly tentacles around my Land of Aus home. A damp mist fills the air. The herd of deer that wander my valley are near by, making a lot of noise. Seasonal migration of birds offers a lot of noisy feathered friends vying for food and attention. We have had a lot of rain in the past weeks, the ground is soggy.
I woke feeling fine. Being Easter Monday, I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. Everything is closed. If I am super ambitious today (and it aint started yet) I’ll give my dog kennels a good cleaning.
So I wake, wrap in a “granny blanket” and start my day by checking my mail…
At my age I am kinda getting used to those “out of the blue” communications that bear the bad, sad news of a ol’ Compadre’s passing on to The Big Beyond… today is one of those days…
Ode to Mary Pat Lawlor…
Mary Pat, known to all as M.P., first noisily walked into my life in the late 1980s. She arrived in Solomons Islands as a Peace Corps Vol, was posted to the magical and mythical land of Gizo, and forever became a member of The Universal Family.
MP was noisy, brash, frantic, fun, vivacious and genuine.
I have so, so many MP tales…
We were diving buddies, drinking buddies, dancing partners, and friends.
We worked together on a couple Peace Corps training programs. We did the Verehue and Mondo programs, both of which were big, intense programs that saw 30+ new PCVs get introduced to what would be the best (or worse) 2yrs of their lives. Training programs lasted 4months or more. MP and I worked hard and had a lot of fun on both of these. We did two programs back to back. Basically a year of each of our lives dedicated to helping these new, would be Volunteers, prepare for the greatest 2years of their lives.
MP was very Irish. Her folks both emigrated from the Emerald Island, and as such, my very Irish buddy, Pat Purcell, and MP were a proper pair. Their sense of unruly humour, their slang and innuendo were very similar. They could team up and make you laugh stupidly at nothing for hours.
I was an experienced diver when Pat and MP showed up in Gizo. As they did their diving course I was a stand-by. In those days any chance to blow bubbles was good, so as Pat and MP did their training dives with the instructor, I tagged along.
One such dive, I almost drowned…
The exercise of that dive was to be in 10feet of water, dive down, take your gear off, surface, then duck-dive down to put your gear.
We were off lovely Olosana Island. A nice sandy bottomed reef, warm water, a gentle current…
When attempting to leave your SCUBA gear on the bottom of the ocean, leave it behind, aiming to return to retrieve… well, a bit of fore thought is required… neither Pat or MP used much fore thought…
Neither Pat nor MP were fore thoughtful enough to leave their gear in such a state as to be easy to retrieve. The exercise demanded you dive down, put all your Gear on, and surface… Both my diving buddies made several attempts. They’d dive down, start grasping at their gear, run out of air, and resurface. Time and again.
I had vented my buoyancy device and was lying on the sandy bottom watching the antics. It was hilarious… MP (who was a great swimmer) was getting very angry at herself… I could see her frustration. Pat was a long, loose boned guy and was getting in MPs way. Knees and elbows kicking and stirring up the bottom. I was lying there laughing, and laughing…
Laughing through a scuba regulator is possible. I have laughed, spit and puked through my regulator. What’s so hard about laughing one might ask… If you dont regulate your deep in-breaths, between convulsive laughs, you suck water. And I did.
I still have a comedic image in my head of Pat and MP that day.
So, on this drizzly Monday morning in Queensland, I think of MP… and Pat, and Ken, and Ron, and Paul… and many more of my old Gizo tribal family who have now passed on…
Adios, fare thee well, and of course…
More later
Smiles through tears…
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Weather here is turning for that blustery, autumn, chill. Those chilly mornings where the house is too open, too windy, and the nice warm bed to too nice to get out of. Didn’t rise to almost 7am this morn.
I recently wrote about Prez Joe’s comments about the middle class and the Unions that “built the middle class”.
Today I am hearing that the inevitable has happened/ is happening…
I’ll try to lay it out in what I feel is a logical format…
Where are we?
It is a farce to think that such a diluting of society shall not have drastic effects. It must.
So, the southern border to the US is compromised, out of control. Resulting in millions of people simply arriving, being, wanting, needing… What is the cost? In dollars and in the damage done to the fabric of society?
The inevitable… the result is occurring as we speak… Large numbers of folks are simply here, the standard “Law n Order” we are used to is overwhelmed, inadequate, has been gutted, demoralised and is now fundamentally ineffective, incapable of dealing with the situation.
When an illegal entrant or a group of illegal entrants arrives in a nice middle class neighbourhood or suburb, they are able to take over. They know they have not been stopped yet, so why worry… Take what you want, do what you want. They can’t stop you.
We find now that neighbourhoods are being taken over, houses are being taken over. The laws (soft laws known as squatters rights) of many localities make it very difficult for a property owner to evict a Tennant. Effectively means the Owner loses control of their property. And the wealth represented there in.
I hear some bleeding hearts try to rationalise it all but…
Here’s one for you… A Pork processing plant in Perry Iowa is closing after 61 years. 1200 people lose their jobs. In a small community where there aint a whole bunch of jobs. Rumours say that other plants, in more illegal entrant friendly States than Iowa, are being prepared for the influx of eager, cheap labour.
I readily agree that not all the illegal entrants are criminals. But some are.
Some just want a better life. They will work for little, survive on little, in order to build a life. It’s a classic emigrant’s tale. And an employee that wants a union wage with unions benefits is more costly than an emigrant (legal or illegal) that will work for much less.
In my opinion, the middle class homes of 1200 citizens in Perry, Iowa have just been irrevocably changed. The middle class life of Perry, Iowa is going to irrevocably change. For the better?
Makes me wonder, is this punishment the conservative voters in Perry Iowa receive for voting conservative?
I would think that yes, there is some premeditated political demographic prestidigitation taking place.
Here’ a rather nice story about it all…
I know folks will say Im just a grumpy old white man. What do I know… Im a racist, Im a capitalist pig…
And I am, but I am also a double dipping emigrant. Twice in my life I have legally LEGALLY emigrated. And I’m proud of this fact. I believe I know more about emigration and emigrating than the average bear in the woods….
Oh, and yea, my whole family is racist… here we are…
more later
smiles
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When I was a kid we used to talk about being a “Hot Dog”… doing wheelies on your bike, jumping things on the mini-bike, jumping off cliffs into some remote quarry… all were dare-devil stunts that made you a Hot Dog.
Those failed attempts that hurt, drew blood, made others hoot n holler with laughter made you a Wienie.
Not quite a Hot Dog.
As I sit in my old fart chair watching the world turn, watching the world burn… I sure as shit see a lot of wienies. A lot of failed attempts at being a Hot Dog…
I was looking for a good example of a modern day Hot Dog and found this…
These guys were sizzling hot…
Id rather be a Hot Dog than a wienie…
More later
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Im seeing a whole bunch of tribalism on our planet. I am thinking we are regressing in many ways, as the world spins and wobbles out of control, the Tribalism that is in our DNA, to me, becomes apparent…
What is tribalism?
After reading quite a bit I am leaning toward thinking tribalism is part of what we are as humans. We are tribal in nature and nurture. This is from my reading: “We often scorn tribalism, seeing it as a primitive relic of who we once were. When, in fact, tribalism is a fundamental aspect of human identity. If you’ve ever been at a game with thousands of others cheering for a team or against another team, you’ve been experiencing tribalism.”
Haiti is a good example. Lets do some research:
Did you know:
In the midst of the French Revolution, enslaved persons, maroons, and free people of color launched the Haitian Revolution (1791–1804), led by a former slave and general of the French Army, Toussaint Louverture. Napoleon’s forces were defeated by Louverture’s successor, Jean-Jacques Dessalines (later Emperor Jacques I), who declared Haiti’s sovereignty on 1 January 1804, leading to a massacre of the French. The country became the first independent nation of Latin America and the Caribbean, the second republic in the Americas, the first country in the Americas to eliminate slavery, and only country established by a slave revolt.President Jean-Pierre Boyer attempted to expand Haitian influence over the eastern part of Hispaniola, which eventually led to the Haitian–Dominican Wars. Haiti recognized Dominican independence in 1867, following their declaration in 1844. Haiti’s first century of independence was characterized by political instability, ostracism by the international community, and payment of a crippling debt to France. Political volatility and foreign economic influence prompted the US to occupy the country between 1915 and 1934. François ‘Papa Doc’ Duvalier took power in 1957, ushering in a long period of autocratic rule continued by his son, Jean-Claude ‘Baby Doc’ Duvalier, that lasted until 1986; the period was characterized by state-sanctioned violence against the opposition and civilians, corruption, and economic stagnation. After 1986, Haiti established a relatively more democratic political system.
Happy place by the looks of it…
And more…
Haiti is a founding member of the United Nations, Organization of American States (OAS), Association of Caribbean States, and the Organisation internationale de la Francophonie. In addition to CARICOM, it is a member of the International Monetary Fund, World Trade Organization, and Community of Latin American and Caribbean States. Historically poor and politically unstable, Haiti has the lowest Human Development Index in the Americas, as well as widespread slavery. The country endured a 2004 coup d’état, which prompted U.N. intervention, as well as a catastrophic earthquake in 2010 that killed over 250,000 people and a cholera outbreak. With its deteriorating economic situation, Haiti has experienced a socioeconomic and political crisis marked by riots and protests, widespread hunger, and increased gang activity. As of February 2023, Haiti has no remaining elected government officials and has been described as a failed state.
quote unquote… Haiti has no remaining elected government…
So we fall into Tribalism.
Im reading about the “history of cannibalism in Haiti”. I did not know Haiti has/ had a history of cannibalism, and am kinda shocked that such it a reality…
I find this:
Secte Rouge
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Secte Rouge, also called the Cochon Gris or the Vinbrindingue, is or was a secret society in Haiti, which Zora Neale Hurston described in her 1938 book Tell My Horse.[1] Hurston’s sources of information were lore related by Haitians, as well as a few earlier books.
Overview
She described them as a fearsome group of cannibals who performed rites distinct from vodoo practiced by many Haitians. According to Huston, Secte Rouge used counterfeit vodou ceremonies to hide their presence, and moreover that many of the practices abhorred by outsiders and attributed to vodou were actually committed by Secte Rouge (e.g., the robbery or desecration of graves).[2] Hurston provided descriptions of Secte Rouge ceremonies to the gods Maitre Carrefour (Lord of the Cross Roads) and Baron Cimetière, a deity involved with graveyards.
The Secte Rouge was held to have originated among slaves captured in the Mondongue region, now part of the Central African Republic, said to have practiced cannibalism in their homeland.[3] Their behavior was held in check by slavery during the 1700s when France ruled the island, but with the Haitian Revolution and independence in 1804 the Secte Rouge were unleashed. The tenure of President Fabre Geffrard (1859-1867) was said to have been the peak years of the Secte Rouge. Anecdotes include stories of a midwife near who murdered newborn infants specifically to consume their flesh, and human fingernails being discovered in food sold as pig’s feet.
Hurston relates a conversation with an unidentified “high official of the Guarde d’Haiti” who said that police keep suspected Secte Rouge members under surveillance, hoping to gather evidence or observe criminal activity.[4] The Secte Rouge members kept a strict code of secrecy.[5]
Two earlier works are cited as containing references to the Secte Rouge: Description topographique, physique, civile, politique et historique de la partie francaise de l’isle Saint-Domingue (Tome Premier) (1796) by Médéric Louis Élie Moreau de Saint-Méry and Life in a Haitian Valley (1937) by Melville J. Herskovits.
Interesting.
In my reading I cam across a most interesting piece… I’ll share it here and highly encourage you to read it…
enough words for this fine Sunday…
more later
big smiles
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Weather changing on this side of the planet. We can notice the shift from summer to autumn. The mornings are heading toward those chilly, drab, 8ams when the sun hasn’t broken over the ridge. After the summer we have had, winter is appealing. But we do tend to forget the badder side of winters.
Migratory birds are migrating. Its still quite warm. The clip below is more for the sound of the birds in the trees than the visuals…
Bizzy as can be, too bizzy for a retired olFart.
Lets see what I have to talk about…
I am paying more attention, closer attention to the echo chambers that abound.
I was talking with my 18yrold grandson, Mendoza, about it all… The fact that different “parties”, peoples, classes, sects, clubs, fraternities, sororities… there is a specific echo to each and everyone.
Mendoza attended a birthday celebration on a friend’s super yacht. These friends are all from the ‘Boarding School Old Boy” club he belongs to. It’s a cool group and you only belong if you belong, meaning you get into by having spent too long in the system that is “Grammar Boarding School” Australia.
The school M attended, Toowoomba Grammar, was founded in 1875. Established originally as a non-religious affiliated place for the boys from the big rural, farming families. Its is a boys only school. Many of the kids he went to school with come from long lines of “Grammar Boys”. Their dads and grandads and great grandads all attended. Tradition is strong with country folks.
And when a young friend turns 19, and his grandaddy throws a party for him on his yacht, it’s an “Old Boy” reunion. Which is cool as hell… an ex-Governor General, famous athletes, current and past political players, leaders of business, all meet and reminisce and tell their stories to the next regeneration of Old boys.
We were laughing a bit, because I said some thing like, bet the food was good… which took us to the discussion that even though you gots heaps and heaps of money, you may not have class… M told me these folks like simple, plain food. Lots of fried food with heaps of salt and tomato sauce. They drink standard basic beer. I asked jokingly, “no big platters of raw fish and wasabi, and bottles of Dom”? Which is pretty funny knowing the situation.
I asked about politics, what they talk about… and of course the answer is they are all conservative. They like their big V8 engines. Guns are good. Trans is the gearbox under your “ute”.
M is in his 1st year of University and tells of a 3day lecture he had to take before he could start his studies. The 3day, $600 course was on pronouns, and their correct use. He had to take the course before he could be admitted to studies. It is a story the Old Boys really like.
Have a good Blood Sport PPV happening today. Blood sport be guud.
Politically I see a lot of tension all over the place… Bullshit and rhetoric only lasts so long… eventually the juicy steak sandwich being sold turns out to be bologna. Stale, old, mouldy bologna.
Im impressed by how much bullshit, spin, rhetoric and just plan old fashioned lying I see and hear.
Albanese here in Aus is slipping, failing, falling. The leadership offered by the Incumbent Party has no policy I can see. They react to polls and statistics. We go from “prices for electricity will go down”, to “The War in Ukraine is to Blame for there high prices”. From “Israel is our best ally”, to “Jews in Sydney should stay indoors for their own safety”. We spend a year and millions of $$s on the “Voice Referendum”. Touted as the vehicle by which we shall expunge racism from our Nation… the Voice gets a resounding “NO” vote, and all of the sudden everyone who voted NO is a racist. Teen-aged crime is out of control… armed kids, legally children, are killing folks in violent attacks, robberies, and hit and runs.
Says a lot for the Nation’s social policies, me thinks.
We had old and slow Prez Biden stand in front of the world and rant and rave for over an hour. Im impressed he managed to do it at all. But, listening to the echos from different chambers, Prez Joe either did “amazingly well, was an inspiration”, or “was sad and embarrassing, giving a campaign speech and not a State of The Union speech”.
My centrist thoughts are simple : It is all rhetoric…
But dangerous… Prez Joe called the poor folks seeking safety in the USA “Illegal Immigrants”… According to some, Pez B should have said “undocumented”.
Which leads me to an echo from another source …
The farce of it all is quite funny, in a sad, sad way…
I was caught by something in Prez Joe said … “The Unions built the Middle Class”… here’s the quote:
The middle class built the country, and unions built the middle class. (Applause.) I say to the American people: When America gets knocked down, we get back up.
Im kinda confused by this and have been mulling it over in my mind… Unions = collective bargaining. The Unions did indeed change industry by standing up for the worker, sometimes. The Robber Barons were not always warm and fuzzy. The Unions had/ have a time and place, but have indeed damaged society by often being too militant. One of the reasons the Auto-industry is moving out of Aus and USA is in search of cheap labour. The Unions are too powerful to profit.
In my life time the Union worker was often better off than the nonUnion worker. I do not come from a Union worker background. But I have watched it all play out in my life time… Union workers got benefits like medical, sick days, etc. But they cost more. I built houses in Iowa, non labour, for $3.50ph. Union jobs paid over $7.00ph. You could go to California or Minnesota (in my day) and work Union, or stay in Iowa and make less.
The Unions no doubt did a lot of good. But why then are we applauding the fact that millions of unskilled, uneducated “workers” are being “imported”?
My answer is simple: The illegal migrant gig is part of a plan to destroy the Unions. To bring in cheap, needy labourers that will replace the old Union stalwarts, that are the middle class… ??? … I am confused.
And my confusion appears to shared with Pez Joe. He touts the Unions but opens the boarders in an attempt to dilute the Union’s influence… ??? … I am confused.
That might be a definition of sorts for the word “rhetoric”… Praising the entity you are aiming to bring down?
Did I say “I am confused”…
And the beat goes on.
Smiles all around
More later
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I am behind, have started a post v3.0 but neglected it, so I’ll start new…
Bizzy, bizzy:
Breeding my great brood bitches, so the males get to be in the kennel… working on a couple cool sticks, and sorting out a couple of my favourite vintage bikes… bizzy times…
More later
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Got out on a bike today.
Damn, I say Damn!
It’s been too long.
My old riding buddy, Big G, came by this morn and we rode a short distance down the road, a nice, fun, curvy road, to have breakfast.
It’s been ages since I hopped on 2wheelz. Dunno why? Other than my chronically buggered left leg. Covid, meters of rain, shitty roads, more traffic, shitty drivers…. But thats all another story…
So, my very favourite bike… The Joker…
Got to stretch her legs today. What a machine.
Took me a few Ks to get my legsgs used to the stirrups. My neck is not used to the weight of the helmet… gotta get back in shape.
Vrooom is good. Vruuuum is Guuud…
More later
Big smiles
and vruuuuum
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Out of character for me, I know, but I want to have a bit of a rant. Ive been getting rather annoyed of late…
Folks tend to think reposting a meme or a picture or such is something that has weight, offers sense or clarification in an intellectual discussion.
I respect original thought, personal introspection and articulate discussion… Tell me about you, what you think, how you feel about any topic. I like to read. I prefer intelligent language and creative use of words. But I’ll settle for simple language. Im more interested in what you think than how you say it, though how you say it is important. My centrist position almost ensures I agree with very few, that I subscribe to no single school of thought, political ideal or sexual preference. I like debate, passionate debate, honest, open, real, and at times violent debate. Bring it on, lets play, work up a sweat dissecting and devouring and destroying ideas, ideals and more…
I fancy myself as a word-smith and encourage all and everyone to write, write, write.
These all but meaningless “cute” phrases, often with an equally cute but meaningless picture, simply can not impress me. It is not discussion and in many ways tells me that there is little knowledgable discussion available.
I discuss the idea that we live in echo chambers. Much of what we say, repeat, retweet, is nothing more than an echo of the chamber(s) we live in.
Here’s a good example… This is a picture I took during one of the many riots in Honiara. This one resulted in the burning of China Town (again). There is a lot happening herein, and we know, instinctively, that it’s not good, but we do not really have a clue of what, when, where, why, how. Its just a picture.
I’ll add a caption:
Zionist laughing while Gaza burns
Now let me change it a bit:
Palestinian laughing while burning kibbutz
Same picture, change the words and change the emotion.
I can carry on:
White Nationalist at lynching
And:
BLM street party
You get my drift… I dont need to belabour this point, though I could, but my point has been made…
All this tweet and retweet BS is 98% meaningless bullshit. I say 98% because I laugh at some. Some are indeed entertaining. And clever.
For my money I want to know what people think, not where they get their entertainment. I want thoughtful words and commentary on your personal view of the world, no matter what your view is. I am more interested in what you think to be offended or dismayed by what you have to say.
Most folks are terribly afraid of offending others, talking out of the accepted terms of reference, going against the grain. Ridicule can hurt. But if your thoughts, ideas and positions are not challenged… well hell, that aint no fun.
One friend of mine went a number of years intentionally writing a FB post every day. She made a conscious effort to “have something to say” every single day for a long line of days. She later turned her posts into a book. I have one somewhere. I’ll Chase it down, but, belabouring my point, I enjoyed and looked forward to hearing what my friend had to say, everyday. It was a positive, no matter what she said.
And the beat do go on…
Big smiles
More later
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The air is cool, the breeze crisp. Then it changes and the humidity comes back, and I start sweating again. Great climate! I certainly do not want it COLD.
I write about what I call the echo chamber(s) of life… our associations and affiliations are part of who we are, a big part of what defines us. Each of us have multiple chambers of interaction. And most definitely, in this modern connected world of ours, we gather a huge amount of our news/ newz/ information/ conditioning (what ever you want to call it) from our circles of association; our church, our close family, our friends, our work place, etc, etc.
It is terribly difficult, within such echo chambers, to raise too many questions, correct possible errors in reasoning, without causing offence.
I tend to piss most folks off…
I have a bad habit of being empirical of mind and nature.
I am an Empiricist, I think…
empiricist
/ɛmˈpɪrɪsɪst/
PHILOSOPHY
noun
a person who supports the theory that all knowledge is based on experience derived from the senses.
“most scientists are empiricists by nature”
relating to or characteristic of the theory that all knowledge is based on experience derived from the senses.
“his radically empiricist view of science as a direct engagement with the world”
But really, for me, what it means is that I question everything.
And with the World’s libraries on-line, well hell, question away…
So, what is the 180 of being an Empiricist … Rationalism is the opposite and is known as deductive reasoning. It is based on a very specific format which, if followed, and if the information is accurate, will have a 100% accurate conclusion. Rationalism is theory based and can begin with the conclusion from empiricism.
Makes me wonder if I am either, or a combination of both? Deduction is part of the logical process. But if I know or understand something empirically, I dont have to apply deductive reasoning.
And, in my opinion, most of the echo in most of the chambers is nothing more than Rhetoric…
rhetoric
/ˈrɛtərɪk/
noun
the art of effective or persuasive speaking or writing, especially the exploitation of figures of speech and other compositional techniques.
“he is using a common figure of rhetoric, hyperbole”
Rhetoric that has been consumed and reverberated about the echo chamber(s).
Being a centrist is hard. No one agrees with me.
Most everyone has decided to join a team. To buy one bagel over another. FordvHolden, YankeesvDodgers, MarronvBlue… And I know I shall have folks come back and disagree. And I welcome that… I’m not being rude…
I dont have a team… I do not think any one political affiliation is better than the other. LabourvLiberal, DemvRepub, WhigvTorry… each side of “the isle” is there for their own, similar reason… to stay there.
The first, most important task of any elected official is to ensure tenure and duration. The first, most important task of any appointed official is to ensure tenure and duration.
Say no more.
My personal experience is such, and it’ll take a bit to make me think one side has something better than the other. But I am listening. I am always and all ways listening…
In relation to the real life drama, struggles, strife in what we call “The Middle East”…
My main question is “whom do we blame”… We appear to be spending our time looking to Blame Some One, rather than figure shit out. Whom do we blame for it all…
The Soldier (from either or any side) carrying out orders, is nothing more than a pawn.
As is the “military” on either side. These guys just do what they are told. Of course it is oft times with too much fervour. Atrocities do happen.
Do we blame the National Leaders? All of whom are worth millions.
Or the World Wide Aid mongers that squander megabucks? The leaders of these Aide Mobs also are worth millions.
Aid is big business.
War is big business.
Whom do you believe?
Whom do you trust?
Lets blame the Colonial Fore-Fathers that lied and cheated and deceived and left such mess that today, 100years later, we’re stuck fighting over who is right and who is wrong.
Or the Colonial powers that changed the Middle East’s demographics… Let’s start with the Ancient Egyptians. They started it all. And Moses and his brother Aaron… they were kinda power hungry. They enjoyed war. The Assyrians or the Hittites? Both of whom conquered, dispossessed and enslaved entire civilisations. Lets blame, BLAME, all of the thousands of faceless perpetrators over these past 4-5 thousand years… sure makes sense to me!
Whom do we blame?
If you say No One, (and everyone) you may just be an Empiricist too.
Maybe we should just start talking to each other, rather than argue whom is the worse, the evilest, the ONE to Blame.
More later
Smiles all around
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Im working on another walking stick for an old friend…
As I watch the world turn, the NewZ spinn, the rain fall, and the grass grow…
As wars continue. As foolishness pervades. As ineptitude rulez.
I am confused. Watching numerous, many, too many folks, near and dear, who have chosen to believe one spinn doctor over another. They all, on either side or the spectrum of any discussion, they all spinn. We know this but, we still inevitably, sadly, believe one questionable stance over another. Why not challenge both sides of all discussions all the time?
And I do understand. I do get “it”… We all live in an echo chamber. Our work place, our social affiliations, our drinking and party circuit(s)… all are filled with noise, opinions, conjecture, newz, information, echos of the future and the past, plenty of spinn, but seldom do these “chambers” echo facts.
And, in defence of those whom I slag, facts are really hard to come by.
Busy folks aint got time for facts. They stand on the reverberations of the “word” they share within their associations. They echo the sounds from the chamber(s) they dwell in. And, we all know, it is debate and contention that fosters growth and awareness.
To listen to the same old music is fine, but there is a lot out there that might broaden your horizon.
To not challenge one’s ideas, position, or view point leads to stagnation.
Or so I believe.
I am confused by the cries of genocide against the Palestinians, the outrage against the zionist monster, the listing of atrocities true and false… While all the time, all these long weeks, a large number of captive humans are held “somewhere”, by someone/ something that is claiming exemption from the heinous acts being perpetrated.
I often think “too much”. I always read “too much” (if such is possible). I always say too much.
I dont think I’ll “wise-up” any time soon.
Once again, here in my little valley, we are behind in the grass-growing realm. In season, we need to mow 10hours a week to be “in control”.
Definitely not “in control”… in three seperate incidents, today, I stuck the knuckle on each, I do have two; I stuck the knuckle on each index finger into my industrial sander, suffering yeehaww, “that really hurt”, dammitt wounds. I know, shoulda had my gloves on.
I put them on after the third injury. But I am grateful…
Getting done by a saw, any saw is bad. Getting stung by a drill, or (eeeeeee) a router, is big-time bad. But a sander, even an industrial type, burns and thankfully cauterises the skin. Much less blood than from a cut or gouge or a hole being drilled into your flesh.
So with wounded fingers I put the component parts together for the first time. I’m making it for the “Hang’n Judge of Gizo”. He is a long fellow. This stick is several inches longer than any walking stick I have made to date.
More later
Big smiles
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In many ways I perversely enjoy the circle-jerk that is Davos. Or more pertinently: The Davos Economic Forum”. But, first off, what is this “Economic Forum”?
From the link below… Davos – carries a bit of a stereotype. Housed in the snowy peaks of the Swiss Alps, the conference has a reputation for being an Old-Boys Club complete with drinking, dancing, and debauchery. In reality, the event has evolved into a multi-faceted summit that touches on human rights almost as much as it does economics.
A Global list of who’s-who attends and, as above, “touches on human rights almost as much as it does economics”… which, colour me sceptical, I believe may be misrepresented, or perhaps exaggerated?
Like the United Nations and its high level meetings, Davos is a crime scene, sanctioned and supported by anyone that wants to be a who’s-who.
The well presented Davos www gives us a good overview of what the event offers… https://www.weforum.org/events/world-economic-forum-annual-meeting-2024/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=ppc&utm_campaign=am24&utm_term=en&utm_content=keypages&gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQiAtaOtBhCwARIsAN_x-3KVNhBj6wilVc48r-BYbXTA6VTXVL7sYaC1fxU5ACKeb8rMYTrPGSUaAhgEEALw_wcB
I like that the programme tables discussion, that for me is still questionable, as fact. Here is a good example: Day 1, 1pm we have the opportunity to discuss “decarbonising emerging markets”. All is assumed that emerging markets must be decrabonsied. No ability to discuss or contest the first assumption. Noting too that Climate-Criminal, John Kerry, is one of the speakers.
This is interesting: During the week-long event in 2022, 1,040 private planes flew in and out of airports serving the Swiss mountain resort, according to a report commissioned by campaign group Greenpeace.10 Jan 2024... https://www.context.news/climate-risks/as-leaders-fly-to-davos-how-do-private-jets-affect-the-climate
The sceptic in me can easily become angry when I see sanctimonious folks with money having such a fun, fun time… without ME!
Hookers n hottubs and booze and drugs and food and hookers n hot tubs and… sure, where can I sign up? Forget the sanctimonious justification of the debauch… Just bring on the weeklong party… Pick Me! Pick Me!
Im still waiting for my nomination to the Top-Job at the UN…
Its all a big circle jerk, and I too am a jerk, paying attention to it.
More later
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Sunday morning here. I am moving slow. In recovery mode.
Recovering from what? You may ask…
Family! …
Son, Don, and his family have been visiting for a month. His 3girlies are noisy (NOISY). They are full of energy, constantly demanding, and a whole hell of a lot of fun. Son, Paul, and his family live nearby. His 2girlies increase the decibels by 4000%. It has been a long, noisy, fun filled month.
And I am exhausted. We were up at 4am yesterday to get everyone to the airport in time for their 830am flight. I did very little yesterday, after getting back home mid-morning, but sleep, sit, watch, read, and sit and sleep some more. I am lucky this morn, I get Blood Sports from 7am – 1pm. So aircons on, wrapped in a blanket, I shall write, watch, snooze, and recover. Got a lot to do tomorrow.
First UFC event for 2024, thus far, has been quite decent. It is nice to get Sunday-Blood-Sport happening again. Some folks watch basketball, some watch soccer, some gridiron… I like watching folks beat the ever living shit outta each other. I am a bone fide barbarian filled with blood lust and violence. No apologies.
Recent newz has been bland at best. I think we are getting immune to the truths, the horrors, the viciousness behind all the newz.
I am perplexed as to why the current leadership of the western alliances is so full of shit and confusion. The protagonists are acting like confused fools. The antagonists are running amuck.
An old word, “amuck”… adverb. wildly; without self-control.
Might be a bad choice of words in that it appears to me that the Iran-Proxy system we are watching is pretty well controlled. I think they have a great game-plan… cry the victim, play the poor-me card, hide behind your children then proclaim horror when the children are killed.
It is working. Working very well. the newz is falling for it all, the victimhood, the poor me, the evil them…
And we have the 2024 US election cycle heating up in frigid Iowa.
The cycle will dominate the year, fill the newz with rhetoric and lies.
My current favourite is “The Border is Secure”…
I cant find a credible number for 2023 illegal entries. There are daily and weekly and monthly numbers but I am too tired to sift through it all. Not today anyway. but I see that estimates for 2023 alone range from 6million to 8million illegal immigrants being “released” into the USA.
Lets just think about that… I’ll use 350,000,000 (three hundred and fifty million) as my base number for US population. If we use the 6million illegals number we do the simple numeric work and 350m divided by 6m = +/-2% of population entering in 2023.
2% is a big deal, in my mind.
Forget about the money the US is spend on this fiasco. Forget about the social and civil implications.
Think about the future… if 1% of the 6million illegals = 60,000, and if only 1% of the illegals are “bad-actors” nefarious of mind, evil of heart…
We just released 60,000/50 = 1,200 bad-actors into each State in the Union.
Thanks for that!
I am very pleased that I am not stuck in the USofA. I have, and do exercise well my options. I have acquired 3passports. That’s 3options I have, if need be. I must say, admit, I am quite content here in the land of Aus. Most folks have limited options available.
Was just talking with my son about him buying a house in Iowa, where he went to High School. Letting his children experience the USA/ Iowa for themselves. There is much appealing therein. I have always and all ways claimed that Iowa is a great place to “be from”.
The Iowa of my memory, and of my son’s memory, is not the Iowa of today. Cant be. And thats OK. Its not a good enough reason to not think about an Iowa plan. Noting there is probably a better plan available.
There is something attractive about a “little house on the prairie”. Riding to school in a big yellow bus. Living with snow in January and oppressive heat in August. The familiar is attractive.
Why I dont live in Iowa…
More later
Big smiles
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New Year’s resolution stuff “ain’t my bag”, as we used to stay.
With that said, I have thought that I should be better organised, more premeditated with my blogging. Why? For no real reason other than my blog is my diary, my memory, my story. And I do believe life is a collection of stories. And all that is collected; sea shells, dogs, knives, motorcycles, guns, children, dogs, spoons, bells, dogs, glass figurines, cars, children, did I say dogs….
All that is collected, cherished, chosen should be shared and smiled upon.
So, week one of 2024 is all done. 51 more and we’ll be at another New Year.
Again and again, Infinitum.
Today offers a very, very nice, sunny, cool morn. 813am and I’ve been busy, doing stuff, puttering about.
I have commented that sunrise here in QLD, in summer, is 5am, the morning’s glow starts at 4am, the happy bird noises starts at 3am… My mornings start very early.
And thats the good news…
We have had heaps of rain in the past week. Over 300mm/ 12inches. The little stream got up and flooded. Our new road-to-the-back-40 survived its first test very well.
The new swimming hole needs work, but is going to be just what the engineer ordered.
And we have gotten a shit-load of mowing done. Always and all ways mowing to do…
Evidence:
It’s been on the cards a long time, over 2 years… the rebuild of the crossing to the “back-40”, which got washed out well over 24 months ago. Finally “started” it right before Cmas. Idea is to put in the culverts, then dig a swimming hole down stream. Not complete but… Very happy with stage 1…
Then the floods came… I was concerned that our work would be un-done…
Of course the new road becomes a dam, the hydrostatic forces build up and, if all not coool, the dam washes out… The main reason for the dam “going” is that it gets clogged up with debris, making the dam more efficient, increasing the hydrostatic pressures, causing problems… It looks like this…
Though clogged up, all and everything worked well enough, this time. The water found its path, the crossing held very well. The clean up was not fun… It took me a big, dirty, muddy morning to dig all the debris out. A couple trees, a heap of grass that turns into a woven barrier, logs old n young…
First dip in the swimming holes was a complete success…
Here is an ancient piece of root from a long gone tree… dead and buried and forgotten eons ago… excavated by the flood, deposited in my culvert… it was a bitch to dig out… weights about 100lbs, and will make a couple of killer sticks…
You can see its size once in my workshop…
I have a couple sticks on the go… And, very, very cool; the old wood chosen for this next bit of whittling, for shaping and sanding is defying me…
This wood is soooo dense and hard I am struggling to cut it. The cut you see above was done with a big “sabre-saw”. And that one cut cost me one new blade. The blade is rooted after 1 cut. But oooh, what a couple sticks we shall make. I willl get my chainsaws out, with well sharpened rip-chains… and go to work.
It shall be fun.
Mowing is a never ending story…
I think we have well over 20 acres “tamed”. We just opened another old paddock up for mowing. We have more old fences to drag out, and more to tame. its is a never ending story…
It do look extreme but its 100% practical… all the cover. I call it “armour”.
And, whilst mowing, I get to observe so much… here is a pair of very cool “Whistling Ducks”… https://www.birdsinbackyards.net/species/Dendrocygna-eytoni
If I keep the yard-work up, my farmer’s-tan will be perfect…
And the beat goes on…
More later
Smiles all around
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… So, Dance, Dance, Dance!!!
For what its worth, for what ever the reason a date change is meaningful, its here, the New Year is here…
It shall be as fleeting and ephemeral as the last. You know you only get one chance,
So, Dance, Dance, Dance.
Big smiles
More to come in 2024…
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Where I am, central Queensland, it’s a clear, crisp, sparkling morning. 712am, 23c/ 72f outside. It was chilly over night. Still chilly this morn. Stormy weather yesterday. Overcast, blustery, not hot at all. A good load of rain fell. Cleared the air. Scrubbed the atmosphere. If this is “summer”, I’ll sure take it.
So 2023 is all but done…
What a year its been… So many changes. So many material changes to the fabric of our society. Not all happened in the past year. The cumulative effects of past choices and polices build up, take effect. Like aging, you dont notice it early on, the knee lagging behind, the hip grinding, the lower back feeling rusty… Society, global society, is being effected long term by many factors…
Covid changed our society. The effects of the regulations and restrictions and lock downs are, to me, very evident. The omissions in learning and education are very noticeable. The “stay home” policy has resulted in many industries failing utterly to run business as usual. Then I hear folks say stuff about “getting back to normal”… Ive never known what “normal” is.
Of course the numerous “wars” taking place loom large in all and everything. From family and friends being directly effected, to the price of fuel rising, the effects of combat, strife, and suffering is felt by all.
Lets see where, on our globe, the wars are…
Damn, the better question is “where on the globe are there not any wars?”.
Let’s see, let’s see… looking for a few positives to end my 2023 writings…
Damn! Im trying, trying hard… positives… on the horizon…
Mendoza’s new best-buddy, Sika, is settling in pretty well. I think he’s a keeper. And a very lucky pup…
Also, in 2023 I successfully finished and shipped off 3x walking sticks. I have been whittling sticks for a number of years. I send them to friends in need. Friends that are aging and need a 3rd leg. My sticks are both orthopaedic aids as well as weapons. After sending one to my buddy, RW (friends since the 5th grade) he recommended I add a “flex-tip”. And I did and it was a game changer. The flex-tip is spring loaded and has great grip. All my future sticks shall get a flex-tip.
My next stick is two… The Hanging Judge of Gizo shall get both a “t” grip, gentleman’s style stick, plus a thuggish shillelagh. Suits The Judge…
A lot of dense, hard wood here to work with. More than enough for a two sticks.
You can see that such a large hunk of wood requires a huge amount of whittling to become a stick. I dont say I make or carve or create a stick. I whittle a stick… A couple examples of finished products…
If you are in need of a 3rd leg, give me a hoy.
And the beat goes on.
All the best to all and everyone in 2024.
More later
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Another year crawls to a close. Complete, finished, over and done… January 2024 is a New Year. December 2023 soon to be a memory. Little time left of 2023. Like the cmas ornaments and decorations, ready to pack up, put in a box, tape closed, and put away until “required” next time”.
We always look forward to, hope of a “next time”.
I often ruminate on the base needs of mankind, the need to “manage time”. To control, stall, stay the inevitable. The insidious, creeping-crawling passing of time.
I am convinced it is a genetic “THING”. Something deep and old within ourselves. A whisper of a voice, a murmur of a clock ticking, a rumour of time passing. Our heart beats, counting the measure of life.
The internal clock ticks and measures and pushes and leads. None can withstand the ticking. None living. Only the dead are immune to the 1,2,3 of the heart beating. Counting. Measuring.
For the male of the species it is a prodding to prove himself, to prove his strength, to prove ability to protect and provide. Social and cultural norms and mores dictate that proof is violence, ability, and trophies.
What is proof? The felling of a wild adversary. The eating of the first-kill, the drying of the pelt, then wearing the head-dress that proclaims the male as a MAN.
For the female of the species it is a prodding to prove herself, to prove her fertility, to prove her worth. Social and cultural norms and mores dictate that proof is regeneration of the species.
What is proof? The birthing of offspring. The care for and understanding and providing for of the progeny. The rearing of such, teaching, instructing, training. It is the brood at her feet, instructed and reared to maturity that proclaims the female as a Woman.
And as years move, gain momentum, lengthen and wither. As the delicate skin of the maiden becomes the dry wrinkles of the ancient. As the hearty ability, the muscled limbs of the youth becomes the infirmed gait of the aged.
Once admired, coveted, the smooth skin, the muscled frame, youthful and full of life. Ready to create life, take on life, challenge life. Now dry and slow. Only the babes lay their cheeks to the old withered cheeks’. Only the dutiful and respectful assist the old frail movements.
Their season has come and gone,. Their time passing swiftly. After years of slow passing, time gains momentum. Instead of counting in years and decades, it is days weeks, even hours and minutes.
Mankind has a tenacious grasp on life. Too, a fear of the end. A fear of the unknown. A fear of “what comes next”.
Those content with life find it easier to pass. Those less selfish with life struggle less to release their grasp. While some, many, struggle and fight to the last possible breath. Hold on even as the spark fades
Which indeed is the norm. To be selfish with life, to struggle against, resist the inevitable.
It is in our DNA, in our life long lessens, all our learning. We are genetically designed to fight to survive. To serve our species by surviving, procreating, passing on our genetic memories to the next generation. Our replacements.
Time is short… for 2023…
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https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/great-fire-rome/
On July 18, 64 C.E., a fire started in Rome. When the fire was extinguished six days later, more than 70% of the city was in ruins.
On December 28, 2023 M.E., a fire had been burning in the US for almost 2 years. With 6million illegal immigrants entering the country through 2023, the nation was in ruins.
Biden and the Burning of America
???
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The Native Iowan 
thoughts and opinions