Lucid Dreams

God the Absent Father

youtube-Logo-4gc2reddit-logoOff the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on The Doomstead Diner October 4, 2017

 

Discuss this article at the Kitchen Sink inside the Diner


   What an unfortunate mess the world has become!  Is it possible that it's always been a mess?  What is humanity doing?  I'll admit that I'm becoming more nihilistic by the day.  At this point the only thing keeping me from being a nihilist is the desire to not be a nihilist.  That's hardly a defense against nihilism though, and I'm completely aware of that fact.  I think this is what a midlife crisis looks like, but then I can't sort through that because the outer world is such a cesspit that it makes my issues opaque by comparison.  Love, compassion, altruism, wholesomeness, personal integrity, and then there is this monstrous reality to inhabit and engage with.  Here I am, willingly driving a semi truck, for money, and no other reason. 
   
      When I started my career with EMS it was for several reasons.  The most important reason was that I saw nothing about it that was morally repugnant.  It was something that I viewed was necessary for society.  It was an invaluable job that must be performed to keep society functioning.  Corporate greed, federal government meddling, and micromanaged oversight, and the nature of people once tossed off of the Merikan dream, and it all coalesced into a brew of disgust I could no longer manage.  Patients became customers and people abused the very fallible system. 
   
  http://stevespak.com/spak/ems/pin1.jpg    I was also curious about death and human tragedy.  The writer in me wanted a deeper glimpse into the human condition.  I wanted the ability to study my fellow man under the most intense of circumstances.  High tragedy strips us of our superficial characteristics and leaves us honest and naked.  Death is the great equalizer.  It didn't matter how wealthy or poor a person was when they were staring death in the face.  It was more then that for me though.  I wanted to see death in all of its forms.  I wanted to see body decomposition, decapitation, dead babies, and wailing loved ones.  I wanted to tell people that their loved one was dead so that I could see them in their pure state.  In so doing, I hoped that I would somehow get a glimpse into truth.  I called to death and offered him my friendship, and I asked for his approval.  He gave me his approval, and he assured me that I too would die one day. 
   
     After bombing Afghanistan I was also looking for redemption.  Aside from my macabre curiosity about our condition, I felt that I had a karmic debt to repay.  I felt that helping people in their lowest place might somehow add some positive karmic credit to my account.  I was motivated by the need for redemption, something interesting to write about, and final truth about what it means to be human.  I was on a quest for God.  In the end I was disgusted by humanity, and then by my own lack of it, and then by God.  To survive the job I had to shred off a lot of humanity.  I laughed at the human tragedy, and finally I became afraid and ashamed for who I had become.  I'd go home to fill my lungs with smoke and my belly with liquor…to forget what I had just witnessed.  Finally, I wanted to rot with the dead bodies I befriended on a daily basis.  And what of the people?  Where did their consciousness go?  I would stare into the eyes of the dead, and they would star back with their blankness…and then I would write a report about it for the corporation. 
   
     I left the war machine to witness the daily death of humanity.  I left the death of humanity seeking yet more redemption.  I took refuge in nature.  My religion became permaculture, and I called it Druidry.   For a while I believed in what I was doing.  I believed that I had finally arrived at an answer to this struggle that is humanity.  To live we must eat.  Nature provides the materials we need to live.  This should be managed responsibly and sustainably.  We owe life more then consumer trash heap mountains and single serving convenience.  We owe life more then cheapening it as a matter of societal protocol.  We owe ourselves more then mental masturbation projected onto a digital screen of failure. 
   
     Is there a God?  Are there many gods…goddesses…are we just fooling ourselves with this consciousness?  Was this all created?  Is it just a big bang that has no meaning?  Is it all just chemical reactions determined by the laws of physics set in motion by a cosmic quark…an accident?  I remain in an in-between.  I remain in a spiritual purgatory.  I remain in the truth.  I'm an agnostic atheistic polytheist, a contradiction, and yet I believe in life beyond the meat suit…and not a digital one either.  Fuck the singularity…talk about mental masturbation and gargantuan narcissism!  I don't know if there is a point beyond life.  We are here observing.  Why?  Are we being observed?  If we are, then what of it?  If we're created and being observed then we're nothing more then a cosmic netflix, and for no reason other then entertainment.  We strive to be comfortably entertained and pleasured.  We strive to possess things, to be happy, and for no reason.  Meanwhile, as a society we die, and rot, and shit all over natural beauty.
   
      I'll hook up to a 48 foot flat bed trailer and pull it around the country for money.  I'll deliver loads of building supplies.  This will keep our society functioning dysfunctionally, and I'll do it for money so that I can provide my family with what they need.  I'll literally live in a machine.  It will be my house, my livelihood, and a lifeline for my children to breath smoke in this industrial dystopia.  I'll burn hundreds of gallons of diesel every week to deliver these loads that will continue building Merika into the death machine that it's always been.  I'll live in the heart of our death machine…literally.  I'm doing it for money, and yet maybe there is a deeper meaning to this? 
   
     My first day driving a tractor trailer was synchronistic.  The radio was on, and barely audible, as I took the driver seat on the range at this truck driving school.  I started driving, learning to double clutch, learning how much space this massive machine needs to function safely on the road.  U2's Pride came on the radio, and that was a supremely synchronistic moment.  U2 is tatooed on my chest, just above my heart.  Why?  When I was a child, I longed for my father, and he was away driving a tractor trailer all around North Merika.  My mother and father divorced when I was 4, and I only saw him on rare occasions, maybe once a year, for a week at a time.  My childhood was spent longing to be with my father, and on the rare occasions that I saw him it was to go over the road in his tractor.  I have a very lucid memory of that first trip with him.  I got into the truck and U2 was blaring on the radio.  The Unforgettable Fire  was blasting from the speakers of his semi truck, the album that Pride is on.  Now, 30 years later, I'm driving a tractor trailer for the first time and U2 comes on the radio.  I'm instantly transported to 30 years ago.  I'm driving this tractor for my sons, and I'm away from them, and they are longing to see me.  What does this strange twist of fate mean?  Does it mean anything?  Is it just random in it's apparent meaning?  Is all of life a complicated paradox? 
   
      Before I came out here to train to be a truck driver I called my father.  It had been a few years since we went no contact.  I had to call him several times before he finally picked up.  I talked, and he was mostly not interested.  I was drunk and looking for validation.  The next day I felt cheap for having called him.  I felt the most masochistic I have ever felt.  It was pointless to reach out to him for validation.  Yet there is that part of me that has been looking for his approval, and that part of me is a part of all of us.  That part of me is why God was created by man…not the other way around.  We created God and then we killed him. 
   
      Our way of life is collapsing even as it lives.  We grow up and continue declaring business as usual for money.  We can change, but we won't.  We will continue burning nature down for convenience.  We will continue delivering ourselves to death for money and soft convenience.  We don't give ourselves the choice to heal.  It can be different, idealism is a real phenomenon, and it's also a waste of time.  Idealism is a waste of the vital energy we need to make money to pay the bills.  Idealism doesn't pay the bills, and it lives in a bong filtered through water and absorbed by the lungs.  If God is real then idealism is his sense of humor, but he's not real, and idealism is just a cruel joke designed by happenstance and ultimately a phantasm. 
   
     My final defense against nihilism is love, and at this point love is my religion.  Love is what is motivating me to drive a semi for money.  What a God joke this is.  My father drove a semi, and now I drive one.  I am not an atheist, I am not agnostic, I am not a Druid, I am not Buddhist, I am nothing but a husband and a father.  I am the truth, and spare me the judgmental finger pointing.  I am nothing, and so are you.  In a blink of time we all die.  I would like to be wrong in my assessment of this truth.  As depressing as this all sounds, I am not depressed.  I am relieved at the simplicity that my life has become.  I do not care about possessions.  I do not care about identity.  My life has been reduced down into a simple operating objective.  I am a provider, and I must provide within the parameters of this horrible mess we continue maintaining.  I want to reduce suffering for all sentient beings.  That starts with myself and goes to my wife and children.  My meditation is to watch this train wreck of a civilization happen.  I will tell my children the truth, and I will love them, and they will know my love, and I will provide them with manna.  In the name of love…I drive a truck…just as my father did.  What a tragic comedy this life is.  And somehow, even amidst the decay and rot of flesh, love can flourish.  Somehow there is meaning to the suffering.  In the name of love I drive a truck!  What irony.  Still, even fighting off nihilism on a daily basis, I am awe struck by this mysterious meaning.  Maybe the point of existence is just to create meaning via love? 

"Pride (In The Name Of Love)"
One man come in the name of love
One man come and go
One man come, he to justify
One man to overthrow

 

 

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love

One man caught on a barbed wire fence
One man he resist
One man washed on an empty beach.
One man betrayed with a kiss

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love

(nobody like you…)

Early morning, April 4
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love…

Agnostic Druid Buddhist Trucker Musings

youtube-Logo-4gc2reddit-logoOff the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on The Doomstead Diner September 27, 2017

Discuss this article at the Kitchen Sink inside the Diner

While playing shakuhachi flute in my third story hotel room in Gary Indiana, I look outside the window to see what could easily be a confusing dream.  Mostly what I see is broken down industrial situations.  Industrial yards with tires stacked to the sky, 53' van trailers parked en mass, a polluted river, and a patch of some type of tall, bamboo looking, perennial grass that's in seed and blowing with the wind tucked into the middle of it all somehow.  Amidst the industrial ugliness, the weedy grass catches all of my attention.  It's beautiful blowing in the wind.  It's wild and natural.  It represents the unending ability of life to heal what we have done to the land and our environment.  It is patient, virile, and unceasing.  I blow into my bamboo flute, a flute made of grass, and I watch the weeds blow to the tune of natures unending endurance.  I'm inside of a literal box constructed by my civilization, and I'm here by my own supposed free will.  Once again I'm in compliance and willingly submitting to the assimilation that has us all marching to a likely dystopian destruction.  I'm reminded of the time, days after 9/11, when I was staring out at the Arabian Sea from the U.S.S. Carl Vinson on a smoke break.  I was living in a prison due to my own willing participation.  It was a prison that makes this way of life a possibility.  It was the beginning of the war in Afghanistan.  It was Merika's first response to the terrorism that took down the twin towers in New York city.  It was dark outside, as I stared at the ocean, as we steamed around in the middle of the Arabian sea dropping bombs and firing missiles at a nomadic peoples who mostly had no idea why.


   Now, 16 years later, I'm half way through a 4 week truck driving school.  25% of my days are spent either backing the truck and trailer on the range, or driving on the road.  The other 75% is spent waiting for my turn to back on the range or drive the truck on the road.  I've got another week and some change before I test for the CDL.  At this point I'm pretty confident that I could pass the remaining skills test and acquire the CDL, but the remaining practice will help me be even more confident come test day.  After I get the CDL I'll have a few days of load securement training.  This training is required because I will be pulling a flatbed trailer.  After that it will be approximately three weeks over the road with a trainer, a driving test at headquarters, and then I get assigned to a truck and hit the road to make the big bucks, and once again I'm supporting this Merikan way of life.


http://www.rosedaletech.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/cdl_students.jpg   The big bucks being approximately 40-50k for the first year depending on my performance and freight availability.  In the worst case I will make more money than I have ever made before.  In my final year with EMS, after eight years on an ambulance working as an EMT, I made 29k.  That is also about what I made while in the Navy working as a nuclear engineer on an aircraft carrier.  The best I could do on my own, running a landscaping business, was 28k.  Have I made the right decision coming here to Indiana to acquire a CDL and drive a truck for a living?  Clearly, if my financial life is to be the yard stick by which the decision is measured, I have made the right decision (do people even use yard sticks any longer?).  Worst case I make 10k more next year then I've ever made in a year. In the best case I make 20k more.  Of course this worst/best case scenario depends on BAU's continuance.  Are finances finally what life in our modern civilization is all about?  Unfortunately, depending on how you look at this situation, I may end up much worse off by trying to get more money…for my family of course.  I could care less about money or acquiring things.  I'm doing this to provide for my wife and two sons because that is what a husband and father must first do in our modern society.


   To demonstrate how completely insane my choices are, I'm going to break my previous financial situation down.  My previous financial situation was the product of a strategy I was employing in an attempt to leave the Matrix behind.  I'll quickly recap that strategy and some of the events and insights which lead up to it, and then I'll explain what went wrong and how I came to abandon that strategy to end up here in Gary Indiana training to end up as an Agnostic Druid Buddhist Trucker.  Much like the civilization I'm a product of, I am the unadulterated embodiment of paradox.


   In 2011 I came to the end of my EMT rope.  I burned out dealing with body decomposition, dead babies, bodily fluids, communicable diseases, psychotics, crack heads, psychotic crack heads, federal government meddling, and big wealth care corporate bullshit.  I endured all of that so that I couldn't afford my meager home owner lifestyle.  I had just become a father the year before, and my wife's business had gone down the crapper in the aftermath of 2008.  Due to new government standards which pertained to EMT certification, I was going to be getting demoted from EMT Intermediate to EMT basic, and that meant I'd be loosing the ability to perform skills I had mastered to help save an occasional life.


https://photos.smugmug.com/1009196674_mTwCW-M.jpg   I had been collapse aware for about 4 years.  In the aftermath of the 2008 fiasco, it looked as though our society was living on borrowed time.  It looked to me like BAU's days were rapidly coming to an end.  I had been gardening organically since 2007, and I was ready to take it up a notch with respect to preparing for the collapse of industrial civilization.  Permaculture had pinged on my radar as the best possible solution, and there was nothing I knew of which seemed more important with respect to the future.  I had tried a fukitol regimen in an attempt to keep my job and sanity in tact, and it had failed.  I was dizzy with the centripetal force brought on by societal expectations within the BAU cage  on the one hand, and the cognitive dissonance that attempting to push against that force was causing on the other.  I was literally within days of self destructing in a violent outburst directed towards the corporate BAU normality trap I was in.  What was the point in continuing to fight for a place in a civilization that was doomed?  I had day visions of destroying my ambulance in a fit of rage.  My time as an EMT had come to an end, but I had a wife and a baby and a mortgage.


   Just before my likely self destruction, another option was presented to me.  My wife's aunt offered us a home.  We could live with her rent free, and I would be free to pursue permaculture training.  I would have 1.6 acres of land at my disposal, with the possibility of 8 more acres to create a permaculture haven on.  The timing could not have been better.  This was a viable escape from the Matrix…I thought.  I had met my wife's aunt once or twice in the past years during the holidays, but I new nothing of her.  I won't go into the specifics of the following five years.  For those who are reading this and do not know that story, it's documented at my blog Epiphany Now under the title of the Whoville Chronicles.  The idea was to “collapse now and avoid the rush.”  It was a way to get out from beneath the crushing weight of a mortgage and the litany of BAU responsibilities.  Living with family seemed to me to be the wave of the future.  As BAU continued on it's downward trajectory, and as my personal economics continued on it's steep decline, I gathered that evading the responsibilities that come with a home and all that's entailed in maintaining one could possibly be a good idea.  As it turns out it was not a good idea.  I was escaping one trap to jump right into another one.  There is no escape from BAU for a family man.  For those who know my story, you know the wild ride I got onto with my “escape from the Matrix.”  I woke up from one nightmare to fall back asleep into another one.


http://img-aws.ehowcdn.com/638x318/photos.demandstudios.com/getty/article/165/28/78631175_XS.jpg   Ironically, while I was working as a medic,  I learned that in most cases it's family that one needs to worry about most.  Family will mess you up faster than strangers will.  Family is not a choice we make because we are born into it, and in this country there's a very good chance that your family will be dysfunctional due to the insane arrangement society has proffered to us.  We have made an unnatural world that comes complete with unnatural stresses.  A healthy psyche buckles under the weight, and psychological abuse abounds from generation to generation.  We have inherited a cycle of abuse and depression that is perpetuated from generation to generation.  Escaping the resultant psychotic normality can become next to impossible, and the majority become assimilated.  The majority fight off this unnatural state of affairs with cheap beer, fukitol, cigarettes, television, illegal drugs, and fast genetically modified convenience “food.”  Each year our personal and collective cancers grow bigger.


    Practicing permaculture on land that belongs to someone else sounds like a good choice, but it's mostly not.  Permaculture is anti-BAU.  Permaculture is about sustainability and relationships.  It's about providing for our own needs by engaging with nature via sustainable pathways that result in food, fuel, fiber, and medicine.  It's about being good stewards to the land that sustains us.  It's about creating a culture that will work when petroleum energy is no longer available.  Many concessions must be met in the interim from now to that future.  It requires community, but we are all too busy working to pay bills to have time for community.  Rent, utilities, car payments, car and medical insurance, food, clothing, gas, entertainment to dull the pain, and our money and time is all spent.


http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/05/08/article-2321263-19ADBEF7000005DC-423_634x352.jpg   I've looked for a way out of this conundrum that's brought on and required by the system.  We have a “home owner society” as W put it!  We have to put a roof over our children's heads, and we have to provide them with medical insurance, food, clothing, and money for extra curricular activities.  We want the best for our children, and so we must play the game to get that.  There are no wild lands left to escape to.  There is no longer a manifest destiny awaiting us to the west.  The only freedom left is a virtual one, and so we pay for the internet and the fictions therein.  The majority kid themselves waiting on the singularity, and in the meantime they accept new electronic gizmos that interact with the cloud the same as the gizmo before.  We're all waiting for Godot to show up and take us to the promised virtual heaven, and this while we no longer believe in the soul or a non-digital afterlife.


   Meanwhile the apocalypse manages to stay just around the corner.  Year after year, prophecy after prophecy, and somehow it never manages to arrive.  This fact doesn't stop the new prophets declaring the end of times tomorrow.  Then there are the techno-prophets continually promising some digital singularity that will give us all a techno-immortality.  In the meantime we will have artificial intelligence that will make any kind of work for mankind unnecessary.  Robots will do all of the work while we busy ourselves watching flatscreens in our flatland littered with ticky tacky boxes.  They never quite get around to explaining how all 8 billion, and counting, of us will do this without money.  While we wait for this tecno-promised land we have bills and taxes to pay.  While we wait the robots make more and more jobs obsolete.  While we wait we become economic non-persons.  And during this waiting period our children get closer to their own adulthood, and we die with our techno utopian promises having never arrived.

 
 http://cdn.historycollection.co/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/new-jfk-assassination-nypost.jpg  Most people spend all of their time pretending that they know what is going on.  Most people invest all of their energy in fooling themselves, and they are so busy fooling themselves that they never notice that everyone else is doing the same thing.  Honesty, integrity, and self-respect are only around long enough to hit the hot bitumen of our failed way of life only to evaporate into nothingness.  Our circus president clowns around on national television.  He's the master fool fooling us all with his own foolery.  We get all distracted  with civil issues that JFK tried to settle for us over 50 years ago, before the system put a public bullet in his head, and his brothers head, and MLK's head.  Racial equality, gay rights, world peace…and on and on the circus goes.  Meanwhile we have no choice but to assimilate to the tomfoolery.


   Is our way of life doomed due to resource and energy constraints?  Are we destroying our planet with consumerism and the resultant pollution?  Is there a solution to an infinite growth paradigm on a finite planet?  Will the robots make all of our jobs obsolete?  Can Permaculture save us?  Will BAU ever change and give way to sanity, compassion, and economic equality?  Is climate change anthropogenic?  The more things change, the more they stay the same.  Mostly the path of least resistance will be taken, and that path is the track that the juggernaut of BAU is on.  BAU has so much mass that only an atomic bomb could possibly create a new course.  That may well be the case.  An atomic bomb, an atomic hurricane, an atomic tsunami, an atomic earth quake, an atomic volcano, or maybe just BAU's normal atomic psychotic continuance.

 
   In the meantime, while we are all waiting and wondering what to do next, this strange reality continues.  While that reality continues our loved ones need things to continue living.  Those needs are mostly only met with money, and money is completely within the domain of BAU.  All of the solutions to BAU are rejected and castigated as utter nonsense, and the foolishness of a nation continues marching on into ridiculousness, and it's influence continues attempting to fold the rest of the world into it.  I think it's possible that the TEOTWAWKI has already happened and nobody noticed it.  It was likely a spiritual apocalypse, and we were all too busy fooling ourselves to notice.  What's left?  Bills are left, and they must be paid…with money.  The new reality is the same as the old.  We have to afford to be the change we want to see in this godless world.  That's why an Agnostic Druid Buddhist Trucker exists.  That's why I'm 700 miles away from my family, playing a shakuhachi flute, and starring at a small patch of perennial weeds that are surrounded by failed industrial promises.

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9f/41/70/9f4170e1f71258c03ce3a63c81dfb3f3.jpg

Mechanical Zombie Nomads

youtube-Logo-4gc2reddit-logoOff the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on The Doomstead Diner September 19, 2017

Discuss this article at the Kitchen Sink inside the Diner

"It's not just a career, it's a lifestyle change, you are going to become nomads."

–Trucking School Trainer

http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2012/07/15/article-2173761-1410D609000005DC-871_964x604.jpg Gary Indiana, located a couple of miles outside of Chicago, has many signs declaring a collapsed landscape and economy.  There are weeds growing in almost every commercial lot, and boards in windows, and people who seem to be poisoned by the water, or the atmosphere, or maybe it's just that they were abandoned by the American Dream.  Whatever the case, there are a lot of people, and a lot of cars, and a lot of stupidity.  Of course, there is stupidity falling like rain in every state in this Idiocracy we're inhabiting.  Fukitol, alcohol, fried fast genetically modified gas station foods, corn sugar, CAFO meats…all in a consumer paradise.  Amidst the weeds growing in the concrete and asphalt of what used to be, there's still "opportunity."  You can get your commercial drivers license, and you can get paid to do so.  In fact, there are more jobs in the trucking industry than there are people willing to work. 

https://i.ytimg.com/vi/d4w9FvY1BJQ/maxresdefault.jpg Everything in this country relies on the Just In Time Trucking Paradigm (or JITTPA as I now like to call it).  Nothing happens without it first being transported on the trailer of a semi truck.  Everyone in the collapse blogosphere knows this, but a lot of them like to not think about it.  Especially the green minded among us.  Do you drive a car, do you buy groceries, do you amazon, do you google, do you have a computer, do you do anything short of living in somebodies else's woods while rewilding?  If you do any of those things then you rely on truckers and petroleum for your livelihood and your lifestyle.  Nothing happens in this country without first happening on the trailer of a semi truck. 

What has brought me to this point?  How does one go from a bamboo internship focused on permaculture ethics to driving a tractor trailer for a living?  Why does a Druid ride a lawn mower?  Why would a Druid be a Trucker?  Fake News?  Denial?  Fukitol (currently I'm fukitol free).  Technically I'm an Agnostic Druid Buddhist Trucker at this point.  What do any of these labels accomplish…and what choice do I have?  I've got a wife and two children to support in a world that's been collapsing for my entire life.  Our way of life has been on notice since before I was born and yet here we are, 37 years later with our world of BAU still functioning like a well oiled machine (I mean minus the supper storms, fires, droughts, flooding, melting glaciers, rising seas, unbreathable air, undrinkable water, radioactive rain water, and starving people).  I've been waiting for collapse since 2007, and ten years later I've still got bills to pay and a credit score to keep up (in spite of the Equifax clusterfuck). 

http://static.giantbomb.com/uploads/scale_small/1/17172/1195412-druid.jpg Again, why would an Agnostic Druid Buddhist be a trucker?  It's a valid question, and it's happening, and I'm proof.  BAU just keeps on truckin', and the trucks just keep on truckin', and our way of life slowly dissipates with no hope of changing less Gaia shaking us off like flees.  Why would one willingly atrophy before it's necessary?  To appease one's conscience?  So that one can sleep better at night?  Is having Medicaid, food stamps, and living with an elder relative better then succumbing to the Matrix that has us all imprisoned?  There is no escape from the inertia of our way of life.  Even the rewilders have to deal with radioactive rain, polluted land, water, and biocide drift.  There is no escaping the great American Dream, or nightmare, depending on your perspective. 

Idealism is not realistic, we have to afford to make any change in this world, and there is not one person or entity that has the authority to decide what is best for each individual adult person in this world.  There is no shortage of advice out there to subscribe to in the attempt to figure out what is best.  As the saying goes about opinions, so goes advice, everybody has got one and the end result is mostly shit.  That's not to say that wisdom is not real, or worth following.  But it is to say that everything is relative and opinions depend on perspective.   

At the end of the day, when the tirades and opinions expire, and reality is left standing, we must all answer the call.  If I were a lone soul on this Earth, I'd be in the woods rewilding, or perhaps in a ditch with a needle sticking out of my stiff blue arm.  Those are luxuries I can't afford.  I have two sons and a wife to part the waters for.  In this world that means making money, and in this world those options are withering away like a worm on the sidewalk after a deluge on a sunny day.  Trucking is the literal heart of our society…of our slowly collapsing civilization.  The day the trucks stop is the day our way of life stops.  I'm getting paid to get the license that will allow me to make a good living while BAU persists, and that BAU is only possible because of what I'm currently training to do.  I don't have to go into debt to get this opportunity to slave away for a good living wage of digibits.  I'm getting paid while I make this opportunity a reality.  I'm getting paid in a place that has more weeds growing in the concrete and asphalt of a failed, boarded up,  suburban sprawl arrangement than it has dumb ass people driving around in cars. 
 
Somehow the WASP (white anglo-saxson protestant) took over a continent of indigenous nomadic people.  The WASP took over and massacred the indigenous peoples and the natural resources that sustained them.   They committed genocide of both the people and the environment.  Indigenous nomads had no need of petroleum and civilization.  The Wasp replaced the buffalo with bitumen, and the horses with semi trucks.  They replaced the teepeecs with ticky tacky. They replaced true self reliance and independence with mechanical horses ridden by obese zombie nomads high on fukitol and corn syrup.  It's a god damned tragedy of American proportions, and there ain't one corner left on this blue-green orb that's immune.  I'm no martyr and I've got mouths to feed…mouths that reside in this nightmare that we call the land of freedom.  Reality is a cold hard bitch, and she does not care about the change we'd like to see in this world. 

That is why an Agnostic Druid Buddhist is becoming a truck driver. 

Navigating 21st Century Hopelessness

youtube-Logo-4gc2reddit-logoOff the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on The Doomstead Diner July 16, 2017

Discuss this article at the Kitchen Sink inside the Diner

 

Is our techno-industrial way of life fundamentally benevolent?  Is it advisable to continue perpetuating a civilization that is predicated by non-renewable fossil energy sources as well as unsustainable rates of renewable resource extraction?  Our civilization requires an ever growing GDP to be considered healthy.  This is a measure of production in terms of consumption.  Our literal benchmark for the health of our society is based on how much we can consume in a year as a nation.  The reason for this is to create monetary profit for the individuals of this society whom have shares in the corporations controlling this production.  The actual physical wealth of the world is subjugated to the tune of dollars and cents.  To make this pathway possible it requires a proletariat class willing to sell their lives for an hourly rate.  This hourly rate is the lowest possible rate so as to not reduce the profit that’s stolen from the resources of the Earth and the energies of its peoples.  This hourly rate is about making money and not about stewardship of any kind.  It does not have to be like this, but that is a delusory sentiment based on idealism. 

The road to ruin for our species began with agriculture.  Before agriculture emerged there was no need for money, and so it did not exist.  Agriculture allows for civilization which requires money to function.  With the creation of money we stratify into economic classes of people.  Once money is created life becomes about servicing this need for monetary acquisition.  Before money life is about engaging with nature to acquire food, fuel, fiber, medicine and shelter.  In aggregate these actions create a healthy human culture.  Agriculture allows for money and removes the limiting factors for our numbers.  Before agriculture the limiting factor is the amount of food that can be sustainably hunted and gathered.  The hunter/gatherer life is mostly nomadic as we follow the animals and plants through the seasons which define their lifecycles.  Our lives are imbued with rich somatic meaning as we engage with the body of nature.  We are from this Earth, and we inhabit it as a corporeal being made of the elements.  We evolved both physically and spiritually within the framework of our physical Earth.  Our health depends on engaging with nature to create life and its meaning.  The fall from paradise began with domestication which is nothing less than the taming of wild nature.  Domestication is tandem to agriculture and literally creates civilization.  What is being civilized if not the opposite of wild?  The two are anathema to one another. 

Agriculture means that we stop moving around.  It means that we domesticate ourselves as well as the wild beasts of nature.  It sets up the conditions that allows for a great competition between us and nature.  All of a sudden our culture becomes one of domination and control rather than harmony.  Being rooted in one place we begin building monuments to hubris.  We get bored and invent competition.  We stockpile food and create war and plague.  We set up the conditions for disease and famine and warfare (although nomadic people still do occasionally fight with opposing tribes).  We argue and debate and create inequality amongst our people.  Life becomes a struggle to create meaning and avoid boredom.  Eventually, as we move further and further from our natural origin, habitat, and culture the enchantment of being evaporates. We are left with a driving urge to consume to fill this void of meaning that emerges due to our domestication.  Time continues forward and our habits create technologies to service convenience.  We become lazy and our bodies grow fat with our sedentary nature which arises from our domesticated captivity.  No longer do we need our bodies for anything more than acquiring money.  We then want pleasure to fend off boredom and meaninglessness.  Life is no longer about dancing in the wild where we are from and where we return to.  Civilization is nothing more than something to do in the great illusion that we create for ourselves.  This is the way that it is.  The Matrix was born with the first surplus of cereal grain. 

Is there anything that can be done about this?  It seems to me that we are at the end of this failed experiment in hubris.  There is no harmony in domination and control and consumption.  There is only waste, disease, and poison by way of ecocide and genocide.  Our quest for the production of unlimited energy against the gradient of entropy has created cancer.    In the end we cannot dominate nature.  Aside from money the quest for domination  is the great fallacy of civilization.  We cannot think our way out of the limiting factors of ecology.  Our modern techno-industrial civilization will run out of the fossil blood that sustains it.  We will lose the capacity to safely maintain the nuclear power plants that liter the surface of the Earth.  They will spew out DNA damaging clouds of radioactivity as they have already begun doing.  The rain will become poisonous to life.  As we fight to continue this failing technotriumphalism we will continue increasing the CO2 in the atmosphere which will continue heating the human supporting biosphere.  Natural disasters will continue increasing in number and severity.  Our hubris has metastasized into a cancer that will shrink our settlements as the habitable regions atrophy.  Nothing is going to stop this process now.  All that remains is answering the question of what to do about this inevitability.  We have entered into the age of doom. 

There is no escaping this destiny that we have perpetuated.  The most unfortunate aspect about this hopelessness is that man cannot live without hope.  Hope makes life worth living.  Is hope itself a delusion?  What are we to hope for?  The nature of existence is a destiny with death.   The time we have between birth and death needs to be animated by meaning.  Meaning is derived from a harmony with all life.  Our civilization is marked by domination and control.  There is no harmony in control.  The great struggle is finally about the nature of life because life wants to live.  We must maintain ourselves within the boundary of our skin while we are here walking the Earth.  The overwhelming desire is to do this devoid of pain and misery.  The tragedy of man is to think that he can avoid his own nature by the creation of a technological utopia.  Life cannot be about domination and control, but that is what man forces it to be.  We are teetering in a suspended animation just before the moment of expiration.  We are flailing about in denial of this process of resolution.  Maturation as a species must culminate in an acceptance of suffering and death.  We must accept our temporary nature, stop struggling, and lie down in the great current of life.  We swim against this entropic process everyday as we participate in this civilization.  We collectively attempt to keep the center from flying apart under the pressures of our own technologically created centrifuge.  We struggle in vain against the pressures of physical dissolution.  We create illusions to fight against the natural process of becoming to fall apart. 

The first act was rife with physical struggle within the framework of existing in harmony with nature.  Hubris arose and we thought we could become gods using the power of physical manipulation.  We thought we could master the universe with our cleverness.  We are collectively a breaking wave, and nothing will stop the pull of gravity as we are recycled back into the void which we originally manifested from.    Idealism is nothing more than the ravings of a mental lunatic.  Idealism is a delusion that is born from the struggle to acquire more than we need.  Fighting against entropy is finally not worth it.  Yet this fight is what it means to inhabit a physical body. 

In the final analysis life must be about observing beauty.  Without beauty it is not worth living.  We have made a mess of this beautiful blue/green orb that’s floating about the universe.  We have partied our way to desolation.  Yet the Earth keeps spinning around in outer space in its dance with the sun that sustains us.  Every morning the sun reemerges to give us another day of life.  Our great challenge is to honor this life by creating beauty and not it’s opposite.  We have created a lot of ugliness.  Maybe the secret to this 21st century hopelessness is to learn how to make beauty out of malevolence.  Or maybe we should just stop struggling and accept the final act of misery which we have written for ourselves?  Or maybe we can simply embrace our collective ugliness with grace?  Without love and beauty this great struggle that is life is not worth it.  The greatest challenge that we face is learning to love and observe beauty even as love and beauty vanish under the oppression of our own collective delusions. 

The nature of a body is to act.  How are we to act?  We should act to minimize suffering for all sentient beings while honoring our bodily nature.  Every day is a new day to make the right decisions.   Yet every day requires a certain amount of money.  This is why my conclusion is that a lifestyle that requires no money is the only truly benevolent lifestyle.  That lifestyle is a fiction in this world we have created.  This world is quite literally hell on Earth.  Therefore we must learn to love and find whatever beauty we can while in hell.  We must not resist as we realize our ultimate destiny of assimilation with the machine we have created.  I’ve tried finding work arounds to the truth that life is suffering, but the only way to win is to let go, stop resisting, and accept the nature of this great delusion.  Manifestation is transience in action, and our resistance arises within that transience only to dissolve back into the void that is death.  All that is created within that resistance is more suffering.  Yet still we must act in the world, and how should we act when our actions only serve to create more suffering?  The heart of our civilization is the creation of suffering, and to participate only adds to this toll.  Not participating in this civilization can be our only spiritual redemption.  For the life of me, and my children, I cannot figure out how to not participate. 

Plutocracy

ninja foxgc2Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on January 5, 2017

Celtic Japanese Bambo Druid crazy like a fox wordsmith ninja

Discuss this article at the Gropolitics Table inside the Diner

 

I don't understand how they get away with it.  That is the mystery to me.  All of the power should be with the people as we have the numbers, but it's not, and seemingly it never has been, as the documentary Plutocracy (the film at the bottom of this blog post) attests to. I highly recommend that you find the time to watch this film.  There is a second part, but unfortunately the audio has been removed due to a copyright infringement.  How convenient is that!  

The people give the power to the church by going to it and believing in it, and that's the level just below the 1%.  Below that is the military which is formed from the proletariat class, so the force that protects and ensures the whole system is kept safe by the sons and daughters of the people. 

The rentier class doesn't do anything but profit off of the backs of the people as this depiction shows.  It seems they could easily be overtaken by the people.  I guess that happens by striking, which I never really understood until watching Plutocracy.  Striking and boycotting are really the only meaningful actions the proletariat can take.  Protesting has no effect any longer.  It used to raise awareness back before Facebook cast it's narcissistic net over the masses.  TPTB could give two farts whether we protest or not as is obvious by OWS and Standing Rock.

Organizing a massive strike is a Herculean task to be sure.  The only security the people have are their wages, so it has to be bad enough for the fear of no wages to be less than the quality of life that the wages provide.  Over the years the 1% have perfected the means by which they control the masses.  Control of the food via industrial agriculture with terminator seeds and GMO's is probably the most important step by which they control.  They made food easy.  They made it where the people did not have to concern themselves with getting enough food, or where the food comes from.  It's not good healthy food, but it's cheap and it taste good. 

Next is private property which is what makes money so necessary.  You have to have a place to live…a place to lay your head and stay warm and sheltered.  If all of the land is private property where you have to have permission to be there, than there is nowhere for you to live your life without money.  That's ultimately where they get control of the whole thing, money!  This allows the Rentier class to profit off of the peoples backs. 

With control of the food and the money what are the people to do?  Now the people have no idea about food.  To the majority it's something that comes wrapped in petroleum at the big box store, or it's something that they drive their cars through a fast food fry pit line to acquire.  Where do the big box stores get the food?  It comes from the trucks of course.  Where do the trucks get the food?  From the food factory of course.  Where does the food factory get the food?  What do you mean?  They get the food from the food gettin' place…and that's if the fools even think that far about it, which they mostly don't.  The food just comes from the grocery store and that is all the thinking that is done about it. 

What is it that keeps us enslaved to the system they have put into place?  Is it really the ignorance and gullibility of the masses?  If you can get past the ignorance and gullibility somehow, by educating, then I suppose the next edifice is fear itself.  Or maybe a lack of imagination combined with a sense of powerlessness.  The more stupid the people become the easier it is for them to control us, and nothing is more representative of this process than Trumpty Dumpty as POTUS.  This is straight out of the film Idiocracy.   

The truth is that the people have been dumbed down to the point where they think Trump has their back.  At least a sizeable portion of the people.  The people are satiated by food chemicals, corn syrup, alcohol, nicotine, netflix, iphones, and finally fukitol. 

In the end, and there is an end to this, the 1% have built a house of cards.  We have a global 1% now, and they can all keep the people in check via the system they have built.  The huge global Corporate system that is the true plutocracy has a weakness.  Fossil fuels are that weakness!  The Corporatocracy is dependent on fossil fuels to keep the house of cards propped up.  At some point, on the back side of Hubbert's curve, there will be enough austerity for the masses that a critical mass will be reached.  There will be a tipping point, and I think that's when we will know that the game is over. 
 

 

 

It will be OWS times 10, only it will not be peaceful.  When there is enough austerity in America there will be nothing that can stop the anger of the proletariat.  Unfortunately they do not understand that fossil fuels are the ultimate reason why their lives have changed.  What will the 1% do when the system begins breaking under the weight of low EROEI energy?  By all measures we are at that point now, but as I have mentioned they are keeping it's dead lifeless body propped up with endless digibit subsidies.  That trick has a shelf life. 

I'm certain the 1% has a plan for the breaking point.  I don't buy that they have no idea about the weakness that's built into their system.  I can buy that the politicians mostly might not know due to ignorance, but the upper echelons are informed.  Why they aren't trying to curtail the whole thing with renewables is a mystery to me, but I'm sure there is a reason for it.  It's likely because they know that there is no way that renewables can be anything more than a band-aid.  That's why I'm starting to believe that their plan is for a massive reduction in population.  Reduce the world population by 5 billion and there's enough fossil fuels to keep this whole shootin' match going until Nibiriu comes or the Sun burns out. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reveries of Collapse

ninja foxgc2Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on December 26, 2016

Celtic Japanese Bambo Druid crazy like a fox wordsmith ninja

Discuss this article at the Energy Table inside the Diner

 

 
Lady Gaga's meat suit

Energy deflation and dollar preference are large forces beyond the control of politicians, generals or central bankers. They are driving countries and events toward involuntary conservation. America’s new president is the product of economic failure; the inability of the economists to make correct analysis, a long grinding recession disguised as recovery; media falsehoods and the unwillingness of Americans and others to face reality, government policy failures and the headwinds of resource depletion. Trump and his cretinous gang of thieves represents the last gasp of a defunct industrial system that is sinking under the weight of its own costs.

Keep in mind, oil producing states like the US tend to be autocratic. The US, Canada, Mexico and others are on their way to becoming single-party police states like Saudi Arabia or Iran. Because of autocrats promise of access to energy, they gain ascendancy with their populations’ eager consent. What is at stake for Americans and the West is democracy itself: a choice between the right to have a say in our own affairs versus the false-promises of energy-driven ‘prosperity’ offered by autocrats … the choice between the (vague) promise of convenience or having a functioning republic.

King Trump the Irrelevant

I think these two paragraphs sum up our reality nicely.  They capture what is true about our situation.  I'm in agreement with everything quoted above. 

I've long said that the power of money is nothing more than the power of the energy we have at our disposal.  They can create as many digibits as they want to create, and with no consequence since digibits are digital and not really subject to any physical laws.  The banking insolvency is really just a ruse.  Like politics, like arguing about who would be the better president, like watching football, it's just something to talk about that applies to our reality only in a fictional way.  Our talking about it gives it it's strength and relevance.  The great reality behind it is the primary economy of energy and other natural resources.  However, those natural resources cannot support a global economy without the energy to make use of them.  Trees, food produced by the monolith of industrial agriculture,  our collapsing fisheries, fresh water, minerals, ores, all of those things require energy to harvest them, and then to fashion them into consumer items.  Money is simply the means by which we are able to claim our portion of that energy.  The more money you have, the more energy you can lay claim to by way of goods and services.

In the face of a finite world it's really all just an illusion of cohesion.  The great reset should have happened in 2008, but it did not happen.  Instead, the failing energy sector was propped up by the creation of more digibits.  It's not the banks that were too big to fail but our way of life.  If they had not exercised the ability to create digibits ad infinitum, and to put those digibits in service of bringing energy to market, than we would have been forced to engage with the reality of our diminishing resources.  The trillions of digibits that have been created by the Federal Reserve and the Federal Goobermint have amounted to nothing more than the largest financial subsidy in the history of the world.  Just like our industrial agriculture is made possible only by it's subsidization, our energy is now only made possible by subsidy.  It's not a direct subsidy though.  It's a subsidy of money creation loaned into existence for free.  The 3.8 billion dollar DAPL pipeline had to be financed by this money that the banks create by turning the digibit knob.  It could have just as easily been 3.8 trillion dollars, and had it been that price the banks would have created that money and loaned it into existence.  The truth is that without that energy our civilization will become transparent, and we will all be forced to wake up and see the house of cards that we have built. 

The simple truth is that everything we do is only made possible by fossil energy.  Our food, transportation, electricity, buildings, cultural methods of inhabiting our world, clothing, medicine, everything all hinges on the energy being present to create them in the first place.  It's not that we can't create those things using the power of our own bodies and that of our beasts of burden.  It's that we no longer have a human scaled way of inhabiting our planet.  That is why robotics have become so important, and it's why NAFTA had to happen.  NAFTA simply made slavery legal again for the first world, buy it was hidden in third world countries.  We took their resources, and the energy of their people, and exploited it to feed the 1st world empire.  We sold a lie that their people were joining ours by becoming "developed" countries, as if to have a culture made by hand, a culture that is actually a culture made of people and their skills and engagement with the natural world, was not a real culture. 

Now we have what amounts to what I like to call a "global anti-culture."  Now science has enabled us to live a culture free life where we are kept busy by free entertainment glistening on flat screens, the flat lands that are devoid of virtue.  Now robots are set to do all of the work that must be done to continue inhabiting our world the way that we inhabit it.  Every year more and more people must scrap by with mailbox money that must be meagerly portioned out to overcome the cultural atrophy that has descended down upon us all.  Our bodies are becoming nothing more than energy sinks without a purpose.  What jobs there are, that are not part of the service economy, are jobs where we sit and do what amounts to nothing.  Driving around, staring at computer screens in inefficient climate controlled box buildings made of glass, engaging with fictional digibits.  Our bodies are no longer required and so they atrophy along with our brains.

We are entering into the last act now.  This last act is symbolized by the election of Donald Trump to lead the first world "democracy" that we supposedly have.  How perfect is that?  This is a man of no substance beyond that of ego gratification.  A man who has done nothing of any real value, but a man that is filthy rich for it.  Trump is like a mirror of our national consciousness.  He is only reflecting back to us what we have become.  It doesn't matter who the president of the United states is, because the system of business as usual has so much momentum that only it's own weight has the power to destroy it .  The momentum is built up by what social critic, James Howard Kunstler, has aptly titled "the psychology of previous investment."  It's the way we inhabit our landscape that has become to big to fail.  But like the psychology that created it in the first place, it is fundamentally flawed and wrongheaded.  It is based on an infantile wanting with no regards to limits and consequences.  It is a hallucination that continues to exist because we give to it our energy.  We infuse it with our psyches and it is failing us.  It is failing to produce anything of any substance.  It has choked the very life out of our bodies and made us powerless and useless. 

Now all that is left is for this pointless business as usual to slam into an immovable wall that is corporeal limitations.  Just like cancer cells that kill their host and thereby commit suicide.  Our way of life is failing, and like all civilizations that have come before us, it will collapse.  It has been collapsing during my entire life.  The cancer has become a global entity, and it has already metastasized and gone systemic, and all that is left is the awareness that we are dying.   I suppose the silver lining is that this has always been the case.  Just like individual beings who are born, mature, and then die, our civilizations are no different.  All civilizations overshoot their resource bases and end up in collapse.  This collapse won't be on the nightly news (as if anybody under 60 years old even watches MSM now).  It won't be televised any differently than it has been already.  It's not something that will be talked about, but that in no way diminishes the reality of it.

Or maybe I'm just deluded and living in a fictional world made up of the laws of physics.  Time will reveal the truth of my words.

Fossill Fuel Dissonance

ninja foxgc2Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on December 5, 2016

Celtic Japanese Bambo Druid crazy like a fox wordsmith ninja

Discuss this article at the Environment Table inside the Diner

 

 

 

 

DAPL route  
 
It appears that the Army Corp of Engineers has denied the easement that was to allow Energy Transfer Partners to drill under Lake Oahe.  Lake Oahe being a lake that’s in existence due to the damning of the Missouri river by the Army Corp of Engineers.  The Dakota Access Pipeline is a 3.7 billion dollar project that was to cover 1172 miles of which something like 80-90% of the work has already been completed.  This pipeline will be moving 470,000 barrels of fracked Bakken oil per day.  To give you some idea of what 470,000 barrels of oil per day means consider this:  the world produces about 97 million barrels per day (MMb/d) of oi which comes out to about 35 billion barrels per year.  Of that the U.S. uses about 19 MMb/d of which 9.4 MMb/d are imported.  The U.S. uses 7 billion barrels per year which equals out to about 20% of the total world production.  It’s estimated that the Bakken oil region has 4.3 billion barrels of oil which is slightly more than half of what we use here in the U.S. in one year.  The Bakken oil field is considered the largest oil find in U.S. history.  Of course just because it is estimated that 4.3 billion barrels exist under the ground locked up in shale does not mean that there actually is that much.  Even if there is there’s nothing that says that all of that oil is actually recoverable and able to be brought to market.  However, as of 2014 the Bakken has been producing 1 mmb/d of oil. 
             

 

 

 

U.S. Pipelines   
470,000 barrels of oil per day is a lot of oil, all of which will be used in the South East of the U.S. which is where I reside.  Without a pipeline, all of that oil must be transported via rail and truck which costs more, and according to the U.S. Department of Transportation, is not as safe as a pipeline.  Using the rails for the transfer of this energy means less rail cars left for transport of agricultural products.  I’m not sure how it is that using pipelines are safer than rail and truck transport considering that since 2010 there have been 3,300 incidents of leak and rupture on crude and natural gas pipelines in the U.S.  Those leaks released 7 million gallons of crude into the environment and represent a cost of 2.8 billion dollars in clean up.  Given all of that it’s still more cost efficient to transport via pipeline which equates to lower cost for gasoline at the pump for consumers.  How much can you afford to pay for gasoline? 
           

 

 

 

Pipeline ruptures  
 The Lakota tribe, in consolidarity with many other tribes from all over the U.S., was able to stop the DAPL pipeline from crossing the Missouri river…at least temporarily.  According to an ancient Native American prophecy, the crossing of the “Black Snake” would have signaled the end of the world.  In this case the “Black Snake” being the DAPL pipeline.  I have been on the side of the Natives during this entire protest.  At one point, about a month ago, I decided that I would go to North Dakota and stand at Standing Rock to help stop the “Black Snake.”  I did not go because of my family and cognizant dissonance, which is the reason I’m writing this essay now.  I say that this is a temporary victory for the Natives because of what the Assistant Secretary for Civil Works at the Army Corp of Engineers, Jo-Ellen Darcy, said about her decision to halt the DAPL from crossing the Missouri at this time.  She said that they need to “explore alternate routes” for the crossing, and that she could not rule out a crossing under Lake Oahe or even potentially North of Bismark.  Originally the crossing was to happen in Bismark ND, but it was rerouted through the Native land after Bismark protested the crossing in their back yard. 
           

 

 

 

Native American Boarding School  
 It was decided that the crossing would happen at Lake Oahe, where it would disrupt sacred native sites including burial grounds.  According to some sources, I have read that the Army Corp of Engineers attempted to talk with the Lakota elders and leaders hundreds of times, and that they did not show up to the talks.  I can’t say that I blame them for not showing up if this is true.  A casual glance at the history of the abuses that the Native Americans have suffered at the hands of the U.S. government is really all that is necessary to understand why they likely decided that they would be wasting their time to show up at such meetings.  Really, have we forgotten about the small pocks blankets and the Trail of Tears?  It is historical fact that for hundreds of years the Native Americans have suffered genocide due to the American Government.  Their children were taken from them by the thousands, had their hair cut, and were placed in boarding schools to learn how to be white.  Buffalo was hunted damn near to extinction to eviscerate Native American sovereignty and independence.  It is past time that we stop abusing what is left of the Native Americans.  Now imagine that the pipeline will actually cross north of Bismark.  Now when there is a rupture in the pipeline there will be even more people downstream, including the Lakota, who will suffer the environmental consequences of polluted water. 
             

 

 

 

Native American Land  
There is a much larger problem at work here.  As horrible as the U.S. Government’s treatment of the Native Americans has been, and apparently continues to be, humanities treatment of our environment is of more concern.  What the Lakota “Water Protectors” have hopefully done is to bring more attention to the issue of how we are treating the natural world that sustains us.  What can be more important to humans than a human supporting biosphere?  If we continue destroying the biome that sustains us with noxious chemicals than how can we expect to have any type of future for our children?  What kind of future will they have if the biosphere is full of cancer causing chemicals?  The one thing that the pollution of our environment has in common is energy usage which is mostly fossil energy based.  Nuclear is even worse because it produces nuclear waste that we have no safe means of disposal for.  Nuclear generates waste that remains toxic to our DNA for millions of years. 
             

 

 

 

Pile of Buffalo heads   
What are we to do about this problem?  Is there any solution?  Our entire built environment, our entire way of inhabiting our landscapes, the methods by which we get what we need from our civilization to maintain ourselves is all 100% dependent on fossil energy.  The renewable energy that we have can only be a temporary measure at best, and will likely not be able to sustain all 7.2 billion of us in the manner we have become accustomed.  Granted, a large percentage of that 7.2 billion are not kept up anywhere near the manner even the poorest in the U.S. are accustomed to.  Solar panels require fossil energy to come into existence, as does all of the other renewable energy schemes.  How are the materials necessary for the creation of a solar panel or wind turbine acquired?  They are acquired via fossil energy powered machinery, and then they are shipped around and manufactured and packaged using fossil energy.  They are maintained using fossil energy.  Nuclear energy is no different…well aside from the DNA damaging waste that is generated that has filled the entire pacific ocean at this point thanks to Fukushima Daiichi. 
           

 

 

 

Historic World Population  
 Aside from the pollution that is wrought on the environment via the extraction, transport, and refinement of fossil energy there is also the end result of burning that energy.  It adds carbon dioxide among other greenhouse gasses to the atmosphere.  Considering that the world uses 35 billion barrels of oil per year we are creating a lot of greenhouse gas.  Anthropogenic Global Warming (AGW) is not a conspiracy theory, nor is Peak Oil.  It is really quite simple, and I’m sure I couldget my 6 year old to understand how greenhouse gases work to raise the overall heat that is trapped in Earth’s atmosphere as a result of said gases.  Not only do we burn 35 billion barrels of oil per year, but we are also steadily cutting down all of the trees to make more room for yet more industrial monocultured agriculture in an attempt to make more food for more people.  More people are really only possible due to the fossil energy in the first place.  What makes industrial agriculture possible?  Fossil energy.  The herbicides, fungicides, pesticides, and fertilizers that we spray onto the ever decreasing top soil of our gargantuan monocultured fields are all petroleum and natural gas derived chemicals.  These chemicals then make their way to the ocean where they create dead zones.  Industry creates more pollution that makes its way into our water tables and oceans.  Due to all of the added carbon, the oceans are acidifying and destroying fisheries and corals.  Our topsoil is being eroded and blown away.  Yet still the juggernaut of industrial agriculture continues removing the trees that breath a mammal, and therefore human, supporting biosphere out.  We have created a positive feedback loop that is resulting in devastation.  All of this is business as usual (BAU). 
             
What are we to do about it?  Should we get in our cars and drive to Standing Rock using the very petroleum energy that’s intended to travel along the DAPL that we should stop? What is the alternative to using fossil energy in our society?  How can I support my family in this society without using fossil energy?  Our cars, our houses, our food, and our jobs all require the use of fossil energy.  The best solutions that we have come up with are at best temporary and require fossil energy to begin with.  Is there any way out of this mess? 
 
I have a landscaping business for many reasons.  It’s one of the few businesses that one can still boot strap oneself into because it requires very little in terms of capital to get started.  My constitution is such that I am happiest working outside while self-employed.  People pay good money and a decent living can be made with landscaping.  However, like all other jobs in our society it requires fossil fuels.  It just happens to be more in your face and obvious in my case.  I need a large truck to pull around equipment on a trailer, and that means a large motor that uses a lot of gasoline.  All of the machinery I use uses gasoline, so I am all of the time filling up jerry cans and topping off gas tanks during the course of my work.  The truth is that I am no more, or less, dependent on petroleum than anyone else in our society…including someone who may make their living installing solar panels. 
             
 

 

Should we stop the Black Snake from crossing the Missouri river to bring us another half million barrels of petroleum per day for our gas tanks?  If we are to do that, than should we not have some type of plan in place to sustain ourselves?  What options do we have outside of the fossil fueled BAU?  I want clean water and healthy soil capable of producing healthy food for my children.  I want healthy oceans teaming with healthy fish to eat.  It stands to reason that I should stop contributing to the pollution that is removing those things.  How can I do that?  My children need a house to live in, and they need food to eat.  Our new President is a AGW and Peak Oil denier.  He’s not going to do anything in an attempt to fix any of this.  He’s invested with his money in DAPL.  
 
Permaculture has all of the answers to fix all of these problems.  In fact, Permaculture was created to address the worldview that created all of these problems.  Permaculture is the answer to all of these problems.  I wonder if Trump will help create a Department of Permaculture?  What do you think?  
 
 

Cognizant Dissonance Disorder

ninja foxgc2Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on August 27, 2015

Celtic Japanese Bambo Druid crazy like a fox wordsmith ninja

Discuss this article at the Kitchen Sink inside the Diner

 

 

 

 

 

Almost five years ago I quit my career as a medic for an EMS service to pursue Permaculture.  The evidence that our way of life is going to collapse became overwhelming to me, and I was left with an urgent need to do something meaningful about it.  To my estimation Permaculture was the only meaningful response (and still is).  I was presented with a home in which I could live rent free.  My wife's aunt offered up her home to us, and since she owned it outright she needed nothing from us financially.  This enabled me to get off of the hamster wheel of working to pay debt and constantly coming up short.  

 
For the next couple of years I spent all of my time digging in the Earth to grow food in a Permaculture manner.  I trained in Permaculture.  In fact, a week before tendering my resignation to the Matrix (which is what I called what I was doing with my life) I signed up for a program out of Asheville called "Permaculture In Action."  This was hands on Permaculture training where we implemented permaculture design for home owners.  I learned a lot about permaculture in that program.  Two years later I received a PDC (permaculture design course certificate) from Spiral Ridge.  In parting words of wisdom Cliff Davis rightly told us all that "you can't eat your PDC."  
 
During all of this I was bitten by the bamboo bug.  That resulted in Environmental Control being called to my residence (while I was away taking the intensive PDC training).  Apparently the horse weed that I let grow up in the chicken run sent up a red flag that I was growing marijuana (I was not).  While they were there they took the opportunity to tell my aunt-in-law that she needed to cut all of the bamboo down to 16 inches or be fined.  They said it was a grass and therefore could be no taller than 16 inches…which is a complete joke, and come to find out not even true.  That was the message I was presented with upon returning from the permaculture design course.  I pulled onto the property and was instantly greeted by my hysterical aunt-in-law who had been fear mongered by the local environmental authorities.  I was told I had to cut all of the bamboo down or she'd have to pay $500.  I complied with Environmental Control by digging up all of my bamboo and putting it in pots.  All but one of the varieites I had growing.  I left Phyllostacys Aureasulcata f. Spectabilis in the ground. It was in it's first year that year.  All of the bamboo I had planted was planted that year.  
 
I left Spectabilis in the ground so that I could confront Environmental Control when they came.  I was going to have my wife video record the event.  I was going to have her record them telling me that I had to cut all of the canes down to 16 inches or that they would fine my aunt-in-law. I never got the chance to confront them because they came by the house unannounced when I was not home.  However, they cleared us of any infractions and said "it's not illegal to have a garden but you have to keep it weeded."  I immediately put all of my bamboo back in the ground where it has been ever since.  This is the third year at "Kitsune Bamboo Nursery," which is the name I gave my bamboo operation here at "The Fox Den."  Kitsune is Japanese for "fox."
 
Permaculture and bamboo can sustain every single human need.  Bamboo itself can sustain humanity.  In fact, all bamboo wants is to be honored by man.  It bends itself to us and beckons us to eat it's shoots, or to let them grow and then use the poles for whatever needs we have.  A grove that is managed properly is actually much healthier than a grove that is left to natures devices.  The quality of the bamboo wood becomes much better in a managed grove.  It becomes harder and resists splitting better than it's wild counterpart.  The problem with bamboo is that we do not have the culture for it here in America.  Bamboo can provide for every human need, but if we don't know how to use it then it just becomes an invasive weed that monopolizes the landscape much like kudzu does.  Kudzu is a similar story because it too is infinitely useful to our species.  It's a food, a medicine, and a fiber for us to use, but since we do not use it it simply becomes a scourge in our landscapes.  
 
I am interning with Keiji Oshima of Haiku Bamboo Nursery to learn the culture of bamboo.  I have learned to split bamboo with a traditional Japanese blade, and I have learned to make and play Shakuhachi flute.  Soon I'm going to start learning to weave with bamboo.  Along with learning the culture I am also learning how to manage bamboo groves for all of the various purposes.  A bamboo grove is managed based on what the purpose of that grove is.  Will it be for shoots, for poles, for a nursery, or just for esthetics?  I'm still learning the differences in management.  Every week I go up the mountain to Hendersonville to apprentice with Keiji…to learn the culture of bamboo.  
 
Now for the cognizant dissonance part of this blog.  I have found the answers to address the future of energy scarcity that we are on the precipice of.  I fear gasoline will not remain cheap for very much longer because it costs the energy companies more money to extract it than they can get in return on the market.  They can't raise the prices to where they need to be because doing so crashes the economy, but they can't not raise prices because not doing so means losing money.  If it costs more to retrieve and render useful the petroleum than is received for that effort than eventually that game has to come to an end.  If it costs you a dollar to do something that you only get .50 cents for, and you are a business and not a government, than you are a losing business.  
 
Secondly, all of this petroleum is going a long way to explain the rise in global CO2.  Combine all of the emissions of noxious chemicals into our atmosphere with the removal of our forests and you've got a global disaster in the making.  We are poisoning the biosphere that sustains us while at the same time cutting out it's organs.  Basically we are commiting suicide as a species.  Anthropogenic Global Warming is a real phenomenon.  It's not some global conspiracy perpetuated by the hands of the global climate scientists.  The fact of the matter is that effectively immediately we need to stop burning petroleum and begin addressing our climate problems.  Bamboo is more than ready to address those problems.  Bamboo takes up more CO2 than trees do.  Bamboo grows more biomass at a faster rate than trees do.  If taken seriously I believe that bamboo can save us and fix our climate problems.  
 
We need to be the change we want to see in our world.  I believe that to be true.  But what I've learned over the last few years is that you have to afford to be the change, and nobody can afford it.  Which is why I have ended up as an entrepreneur with my own landscaping business, Ancient Earth Landscaping.  Ancient Earth started off as Ancient Earth Design which was a permaculture business that a friend of mine and I started after Permaculture In Action.  For a while it seemed that we were going to be a success and then for some reason clients didn't have the money, and new clients stopped showing up.  My business parnter got tired of the struggle and went back to teaching.  I changed the name to Ancient Earth Landscaping (AEL) and kept chugging along.  
 
The point of business is to make money.  I did manage to find a couple of clients here in the Upstate of SC, and I made some money with permaculture design as AEL.  However, what was paying the bills for me was conventional landscape maintenance.  People don't pay for permaculture, but they pay lots of money to have their grass and shrubbery cut.  They pay even more money when nature gets out of hand and needs to be put back in a box.  AEL has becomes a phenomenal success.  I am at a place where I can no longer take on new clients because I can barely keep up with the clients I have.  I'm looking to hire help, but I can't because I need every dollar I can get.  In the South, when winter arrives, my business tanks.  That means I have to save for a three to four month period where I will not be making much money at all.  It is possible to make money in landscaping during the winter, but there is no guarantee.  Cutting grass is what sustains the landscape maintenance business because it relentlessly grows and therefore must be maintained.  If you don't cut your grass Environmental Control will show up and fine you $500.  My business is basically mandated by local ordinance.  
 
There are a lot of problems with what I have become.  I drive around using a 5.7 L hemi to pull a trailer full of engines and gasoline.  I use the power in that gasoline to violently control nature six days a week.  I try to not work on the weekends but lately I've had to in order to keep my clients satisfied with the services I provide.  I use weed eaters, hedge trimmers, back pack blowers, lawn mowers, a wood chipper, a chain saw, and other small engines to do my job.  I am contributing to all of the problems that I sought to address when I resigned from the Matrix.  I pollute the atmosphere more now than I ever have. 
 
The question I have asked myself over and over again is "why would a Druid ride a lawn mower?"  A Druid is the last person who should be riding a lawn mower for an entire army of reasons.  On the one hand I have the belief that nature is sacred, and that belief defines my spiritual practice and identity.  On the other I pollute and destroy nature everyday.  Why?  The answer is very simple.  The world of man requires me to make money.  Money is the problem.  I have a wife and children, and even without having to pay rent or a mortgage I still need money.  
 
Our civilization, the one that is teetering on the verge of collapse, requires me to make money.  That is what plugs us all into the Matrix.  I would love to spend all of my time farming bamboo, crafting with bamboo, and sustaining my needs with bamboo (and permaculture).  In order to do that I need land to do it on, and unfortunately the world of man constantly requires that I be making money.  Money doesn't care about the environment.  Money doesn't care about anything.  It's a bit like our ego is.  It's self perpetuating for the purposes of self perpetuation.  
 
And so I persist in this state of cognizant disonance.  I'm constantly yearning to awaken from this contradictory state of existence that is my daily life.  I am forced into hypocrisy to sustain myself and my family.  If I put all of the engines down and stop polluting and destroying that which is sacred than I lose my ability to make money.  If I hold onto those engines and continue successfully making a lot of money than I continue contributing to all of our real problems.  
 
It seems there is no way to win.  We are hopelessly left twisting in the winds of the imploding world of man that we all create everyday.  We are all guilty.  I'm sure of one thing.  Petroleum is a limited resource that will not be replaced by anything on Earth, or in outer space.  Petroleum is the fuel that enables our current global civilization.  We literally eat petroleum.  We chose the wrong substance to depend on, and now we are hopelessly addicted and in denial.  This losing game that we are all playing is bound to come to an end.  Until then…I guess we just keep playing.  It's a dog eat dog world.  I intend to win, and I've gotten just old enough to shed the majority of the idealism that has always lurked in my mind.  In the words of Cage The Elephant "I've got bills to pay and mouths to feed and ain't nothin' in this world for free."    
 
I suppose our saving grace is that there is a lot of beauty in the world.  The best we can do is to revel in that beauty.  Who knows, maybe a miracle will happen.  Maybe Jesus will come back and save us from ourselves.  In the meantime the Buddha is hear to point the way to salvation here and now.  He's pointing at a bamboo grove…at least when I look at him that's what he's pointing at.  I seek refuge in the bamboo that resides in nature.  After Hiroshima and Nagasaki destroyed everything on the surface, bamboo was the first life form to return.  There is much hope in bamboo.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Plugged Back In

ninja foxgc2Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on October 5, 2015

Discuss this article at the Science & Technology Table inside the Diner

After five years of resistance I'm back on Face Palm.  I blogged about the evils of Face Palm when I deleted my original account, you can read about that here.  I still agree with everything I wrote in that essay, but becoming a business owner has necessitated the removal of some idealism.  I got tired of losing business on Thumbtack because I couldn't respond quickly unless I was home with access to our laptop.  Often times people will select the first professional that contacts them (I know, I've been that professional several times).  We were also commonly receiving texts that said "no content," and I got tired of explaining to potential clients that I had an alleged dumb phone and all I got was "no content" rather than a text they had spent their time typing.  Several times they were long texts and I suspect that was the reason my alleged dumb phone couldn't handle it.  Still we fought on with our obsolete ways. 

Finally Wendy was off shooting a wedding and the phone went missing.  We decided we'd better just accept the fact that we needed smart phones, and so off to Sprint Wendy went to progress us into the 21st century.  I didn't go, but apparently the entire staff circled around my alleged dumb phone and made noises of amazement while they took turns passing around the alleged dumb phone marvel (it even had a touch screen, but we had fixed the phones so that they would not connect to the internet…it was a rumor touch from 2010).  They gave us two iphone 6's to replace our obsolescence.  The next day my laptop bit the bullet for the final time.  My laptop was a Toshiba Satellite that I bought in 2007.  I had the hard drive replaced and had to bring it in to the computer geek many times to have it fixed.  However, seeing as how an iphone is a computer, I found that by simply ordering a blue tooth keyboard for the iphone, along with an iphone stand, I could side step even needing a laptop.

Still, I resisted Face Palm.  I tried running my business Face Palm page, Ancient Earth Landscaping , using my wife's FB account on my phone, but that resulted in me posting to her page.  We couldn't figure out how I could run my page using her account on my phone, and it was just adding frustration to her life attempting to figure it out.  I thought about it and realized that I really had no leg to stand on where opposition to FB was concerned.  I had plugged back in, and that was necessitated by my need to run a business FB account.  You can't have just a business account.  All my opposition was doing was making my wife's life more complicated.  It was rapidly shaping up to my return to FB, and so here I am, completely plugged back in. 

I enjoy being able to listen to Spotify with blue tooth headphones anywhere I go.  The CD player in my truck stopped working years ago, so up till now I've been at the mercy of the radio.  I haven't listened to the radio in my truck since I got my iphone.  I have a camera, a video recorder, a calendar, a virtual jukebox, and the apps keep piling up (so far it's Thumbtack, Spotify, Weather, Blogger, Wikipedia, youtube, FB, and yes even Angry Birds).  It's great except for when I imagine myself holding that damn "phone" staring into the virtual world that I've detested for so long.  My world is the green world of plants and soil, not the virtual world of Face Palm and Instagram, except for the fact that these virtual places are part of my world now.  I'm embracing this inherent hypocrisy.  What am I to do other than accept it?

 


What is a reason to resist any longer?  The world went and got virtual, at least where people are concerned.  Now Wendy and I can lay in bed and be blissfully alone together in the evening (we have a healthy love life, but you know what I mean).  As far as privacy is concerned, what of it?  I'm amazed at how frazzled so many facepalmer's seem to be about the privacy issue with Face Palm.  What privacy?  Maybe some of my readers haven't heard about a federal agency called the "National Security Agency," or NSA, and the city they have in the desert that is five times the size of Washington DC dedicated to the surveillance of every communication of all stripes in the good ole Fascist States of America.  Every phone call, text, Face Palm message, email, and squeaky fart you let out is recorded and pigeon holed into your communication record at the NSA.  You can read about this fact here.  Here is a quick excerpt from the linked article:
 

 Under construction by contractors with top-secret clearances, the blandly named Utah Data Center is being built for the National Security Agency. A project of immense secrecy, it is the final piece in a complex puzzle assembled over the past decade. Its purpose: to intercept, decipher, analyze, and store vast swaths of the world’s communications as they zap down from satellites and zip through the underground and undersea cables of international, foreign, and domestic networks. The heavily fortified $2 billion center should be up and running in September 2013. Flowing through its servers and routers and stored in near-bottomless databases will be all forms of communication, including the complete contents of private emails, cell phone calls, and Google searches, as well as all sorts of personal data trails—parking receipts, travel itineraries, bookstore purchases, and other digital “pocket litter.” It is, in some measure, the realization of the “total information awareness” program created during the first term of the Bush administration—an effort that was killed by Congress in 2003 after it caused an outcry over its potential for invading Americans’ privacy.


 So, if you are upset about privacy on Face Palm than you obviously have not been paying attention.  Of course there is the Patriot Act to consider.  If you don't know, that's the legislation that was enacted day's after 9/11 that makes it legal for our government to make you disappear and tell nobody about it.  You'll never be seen or heard from again and this is all legal.  They just have to suspect that you are a terrorist and away you disappear.  So if you don't want to have your privacy trampled on than you should no longer communicate with any kind of device.  Don't talk on a land line, don't use a cell phone, and don't use the internet under any capacity because even your google searches are being recorded by the NSA.  This brings me to the final issue I'll be tackling in this essay…that's right, gun control (and now for my promised trick where I make some Face Palm friends disappear).

In my opinion "gun control" is where you slow your breathing, keep both eyes open as you look through your iron sites (or scope), calm your nerves, and finally slowly exhale as you gently pull back on the trigger knowing that your aim is true.  I am not a violent person.  In fact, I don't believe in violence.  When I was training in Nihon Ghoshin Aikido my Sensei first taught me how to not fight.  He taught me how to use my words to diffuse any aggression and how to not get cornered and assure an escape route if at all possible.  Then he taught me how to use the energy of my attacker against him to cause controlled pain via joint locks and pressure points to further convince him that violence was not the answer.  Then he taught me how to kill with extreme prejudice and efficiency using my attackers weapon.  That's when I stopped training having achieved Ni Kyu or student instructor with all 50 techniques in the art and joined the Navy.

Firstly I'm not going to surrender my guns because I like them.  Occasionally I put venison on the table for my family to eat by hunting with my riffle.  This is 100% organic meat, and it's as organic as meat gets being that the animal has eaten from the wilderness it's entire life.  I could do this with a bow and arrow, but I don't have a bow and arrow right now.  I have guns.  Secondly all disarming the populace would do is to ensure that only our tyrannical government and criminals would have guns.  Law abiding citizens would be the only people without guns.  The hunting industry in the U.S. is a billion dollar industry and so removing guns would remove a lot of jobs from our atrophying economy.  If citizens don't need guns than why do police need guns?  Why does the military need guns?  Would the proponents of "gun control" agree that the military and police should surrender their guns?  I think not.  The fact of the matter is that guns exist, and so bad people have guns, and therefore I need guns.  If I could hockity pockety wokity whack every gun off of the planet I would do so, and I would happily hunt for my venison with bow and arrow, but I, nor anybody else on this side of mortal, have that ability.

Now for the school shootings, isn't this a bit like the terrorist bogey man?  You can't fight terrorism because terrorism resides in the black heart of the terrorist.  At any moment anybody can decide to be a terrorist, just as any kid can decide to go to school and start killing.  Let us imagine for a moment that all guns are completely eradicated from the Earth, even the world's military's don't have guns any longer.  Now some high schooler that's all bent out of shape because daddy left years ago and mommy has taken to prostitution to put food on the table and pay bills.  She's an alcoholic and on cussitol to cope leaving her virtually paralyzed to care for our bent high schooler.  On top of all of this he can't get a girlfriend to save his life, and nobody wants to be friends with him because he has bad hygiene and his breath constantly stinks.  He's also socially awkward.  Well he's had enough of this shit and decides he wants to die, but before he goes he wants to release his rage on the peers that have caused him so much pain.  He acquires a Samurai sword and spends weeks getting it as sharp as possible.  He goes to school one day and just as he enters the main hall minutes before the bell rings, he pulls out the sword and starts decapitating heads.  How many heads do you think he could decapitate before being stopped by the police?  Remember, there are no longer any guns, so I guess the local law enforcement would have to taser him?

Now, before you delete me from your Face Palm friend list, let me apologize for being so crass and brazen with making my point.  I am an Aspie after all, and I can relate to the feelings of the imagined high schooler I just created.  My father left when I was four and I have always been slightly awkward socially.  I was lucky enough to have the unconditional love of a beautiful mother (and I still do), and I was also able to find romantic love as a teenager, and I had a few friends to boot.  I'm not trying to make lite of the recent school shootings, or any school shooting for that matter.  I feel for all of the people caught up in these tragedies, but I also know that our government regularly kills innocent civilians with drones and that they drop bombs on hospitals, mosques, and red cross centers (I was on the USS Carl Vinson during Operation Enduring Freedom and I know this first hand).  There is no shortage of tragedies in our imperfect world.  Removing guns will accomplish nothing except making it easier for criminals to commit crime.  Guns or no, it's not guns that kill it's people.  Now go ahead and hit delete.  Your delusions will not stop me from telling the truth.

American Anti-culture: A lament

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on June 22, 2015

Visit the New Diner News Page for Daily Updates from around the Collapse Blogosphere

ninja fox

Discuss this article at the SUN Table inside the Diner

Every Friday I drive up the mountain to intern with Keiji Oshima. He's teaching me about bamboo. Some days the lesson is to sit in a Sasa Veitchi patch and pull weeds, and on others it's learning the art of splitting bamboo for the purposes of weaving it into baskets. I'm learning how to farm bamboo for the health of the grove. The goal is to produce quality bamboo canes for craft and the table. Bamboo is a way of life that creates a culture. In the United States we don't have a culture, and I'm pretty sure we don't want one. There are houses that are lived in on this Earth that are made up entirely of bamboo. That means you can literally live in bamboo, and you can eat it with utensils made of it while you sit in a bamboo chair at a bamboo table in a bamboo house…bamboo! You can do all of that with wood as well, but wood can't grow 47 inches in 24 hours like Phyllostachy Edulis (moso) can, and good luck trying to eat wood. Bamboo has the highest protein count of any vegetable, but this is not an essay about bamboo, it's more a lament about the sucking void of an anti-culture that I live in. Quite simply this is therapy for me. Read on at your own emotional risk because I've got no warm fuzzies for you about the future.

 

In my yard I have a diverse array of food growing: apple, peach, cherry, black locust, hazelnut, pomegranate, bamboo, grapevine, black berry, raspberry, strawberry, blueberry, corn, tomatoes, peppers, potatoes, gourds, all manner of cucurbit, peas, beans, herbs, chickens, and others. Diversity is my main tactic. There's also swales, hugelkulture, key hole gardens, cob, and vernal pools. I've done the best job I can designing and installing permaculture into this yard. I don't even like calling it a yard any longer because that word doesn't honor the sweat, blood, thought, emotion, and intentionality I've put into the food forest that is my "yard." A yard is something that is terrorized by mechanical tyranny and synthetic chemicals every other week. The goal of this anti-culture way of thinking is to somehow control nature, to keep it in straight lines and caged in a delusion of the collective human mind. We have dominion over a collapsing way of life contained in a biosphere that is becoming hostile to life. I'm not going to now launch into a list of all the problems our world is facing right now. This would be a good point in the essay to do so, but there are plenty of blogs in the doomosphere that can supply that list for you. The list of food growing in my "yard" is the only list you'll find in this particular rant.
 
The great irony of my life is that when I'm not permaculturing in my yard I'm riding a lawn mower and operating a weed eather, and yes I even spray round up from time to time. Nobody wants to pay me for my permaculture knowledge in this anti-culture, but they will gladly pay me to keep nature in line in their yards. All of that food growing in my yard and I still shop at costco. Regardless of my hyperactive distaste of hypocrisy it seems I'm unable to help myself from participating in it. Why do I buy and spray Monsanto round up and shop at Costco? Because I live in an anti-culture. I get paid to spray round up, not plant fruit trees (or god forbid, bamboo), and I shop at Costco because it's the cheapest way to feed two young boys. I'm not operating under the fantasy that paying 30% more for "organic" food is going to make my boys much healthier or save anything from my species. The air we breath is toxic and there are over 200 synthetic chemicals in the human body, and I'm supposed to believe that shopping at the local organic box store is going to keep me and my family more healthy!
 
I go to work and sweat…a lot. It's very hot and humid in the American South. After each job I'll take my T-shirt off and wring out a couple hundred cc's of sweat. I'll drink over a gallon of water in a day and I might pee once. I work very hard for the money I make, and so decisions like shop at costco and save a lot of money, or shop at Organic Box Store and piss my money away like I do all that water I drink, aren't really decisions at all…just common sense. I've got more food growing in my yard than probably 99% of the average home owner and yet I'm still dependent on Costco to supply the bulk of my families calories. Permaculture doesn't work without real community, and it damn sure doesn't work in an American anti-culture. It requires whole communities of people to all be concerned with food, medicine, and material cultivation. My neighbor tills his "garden spot" and then applies petrochemicals to it, and down the road there are 1000's of peach trees all in a line that get sprayed copiously all of the time. Without those petrochemicals my neighbor, and that atrocity of a "peach orchard" down the road, would all learn the hard way what petroleum dependency has done to our anti-culture.
 
I'm being forced to make up a culture. I've had no initiation into adulthood, unless you count bombing Afghanistan from the bowels of an aircraft carrier for control of the worlds heroine and petroleum as an initiation. I have no elders to look up to. My father has forsaken me and my family on account of arrogant pride. My mother does the best that she can, but she's got no idea either really…well she's got Jesus at least. I have no grandparents left. My wife is even worse off. Her daddy put a 30 aught 6 in his mouth a year before I met her, and her mother is an out of control narcissists that does more harm than good wherever she goes. She has no surviving grandparents either, and what did the whole lot teach us about our world and how we should make our way in it? Our way of life is to consume for profit sake while terrorizing resource rich countries with weapons of mass destruction, and that pretty much sums up America and it's grand ordeals about inalienable rights and freedom. I suppose we have a culture of "lawn care." If you're reading this during the daytime and you listen hard enough I'm sure you can hear a small engine attempting to control nature somewhere (and this privilage American's kill brown people of culture with drones for). Could there be a better way to vent our collective frustration then to grow just grass that has got to be mowed every other week…and fueled by petroleum I might add. Henry Ford and his ilk knew what they were doing with the invention of carcentric suburbia. They were being industrious, which is the highest good as long as it supports profit.
 
What am I to tell my two young boys about the world and their place in it? The future has no place for them. If they're lucky there will at least be some good human supporting biospheres left when it's their turn to start making babies, that is if the nuclear industry hasn't finished the job of making us all sterile. That industry is definitely doing their level best to destroy all ocean life. For a long time I used permaculture as a blank screen on which to project my hopium. I resigned from a low paying career as a medic after a short stent on fukitol didn't resolve my cognizant dissonance. Dissonance which was resonating from existence in an anti-culture. I went on a permaculture crusade of hope. Three years later my permaculture business partner realizes that hugelkulture isn't going to save the world and threw in the towel. Not that I blame him. Our anti-culture requires us to make money, not to dream up ways to fix this mess.
 
I'm supposed to remain optimistic in the face of all of this bad news. I'm supposed to somehow realize that our anti-culture is collapsing around us in all the ways that count, but yet there's reason to rejoice! There is a large for profit prison industry in this country for cryin' out loud. What the fuck! People are literally making millions of dollars on non-violent drug addicts turned industrial prison complex for profit slaves. They were only drug addicts in the first place because there was no place for them in our anti-culture. Who can blame them? Yet now they make our military uniforms. I suppose at least we're using our own domestic slaves now rather than the rest of the worlds. There is even a very entertaining show about it on Netflix called "Orange is the New Black." My wife and I have watched all three seasons. In the last season the women of the prison make panties for a lingerie company. Most Americans watching probably have no idea that the show is depicting reality. At any rate we watch it to escape from reality. One of the most important prescriptions for life in an American anti-culture is the remedy of sitting on our fattening asses while eating food chemicals anesthetized on a television screen, beer, and fukitol. I'm supposed to be optimistic. I have a tendency to forget that.
 
There is one small silver lining in the fight for optimism and hopium. The SUN foundation, a 501c3 non-profit of which I'm the CFO (chief financial officer), has a chance at receiving one million dollars to design a "Sunstead." You can read all about what that is by going to sun4living.com and reading our prospectus. If anything can give me hope it's SUN. As you have no doubt deduced at this point I need some hopium. We all do, at least those of us with our eyes wide open. I hope that SUN can shine and help to create at least one answer to this mess we are in. Now I'm off with my truck and trailer full of nature tyranny dispensation so that I can make some money to buy some Costco food to feed my family. At least I did provide them some home grown Irish cobler taters and zucinni for dinner last night. I'll take the small victories. I suppose I'm more prepared for the future than 99% of the rest of the non-1% Americans. On another optimistic note…my state finally took the confederate flag off of the state capitol building today. I guess my state's no longer stuck in the mid 1800's intellectually any longer?

The Bamboo Monster

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on September 2, 2014

ninja fox

Discuss this article at the Environment Table inside the Diner

On August 30th,  just after arriving home from a 14 day long intensive Permaculture Design Course, I was informed that South Carolina Environmental Control had been too my residence.  They were looking for Cannabis.  Apparently residents of this county are growing it in their gardens to hide it.  I’m not.  I’ve got kids, and I’m not stupid enough to grow cannabis where it’s illegal to do so.  Anyways, because bamboo is technically a grass, they have decided that I must keep it cut at 16 inches.  This is preposterous.  0.5 miles from my residence there is an established grove of Phyllostachys Spectabilis.  I have that same bamboo growing in my yard, along with others…all of which came from the ground in this county. 
Allow me to officially introduce myself. I, dear reader, am the Bamboo Monster. Now, before you get your panties in a wad and start calling me names, like my all time favorite Bamboo hater term, “Damnboo.” Please realize that I’m a nice monster. However, according to the Department of Homeland Security, I’m in fact the opposite. Just listen to the words of an anonymous chicken shit from the USDA:
“The so-called gardeners who plant this vile stuff in their yards claim that it makes a great privacy screen, while in actuality its an invasive weed that spreads to adjacent properties and wreaks havoc on entire communities. This law was enacted to send a clear message: If you want privacy, build a fence like a normal person!”
“Wreaks havoc on entire communities,” now that is just misguided at best. I mean I may have climbed up through your ventilation ducts in the middle of the night and chocked a bitch or two in my past, but I’m reformed. I promise. I’ve spent the last 40 years or so being damned by American anti-culture. Ever since the American government abandoned its intensive research of me in the late 60’s. I was fit to revolutionize the Earth for humanity. Personally I think I got tossed to the curb by American culture for the same reason that hemp got tossed. I’m just too damn useful to humans. The rotten money changers at the top of the human socioeconomic scheme just can’t figure out how to control me to monopolize on my usefulness. According to the above referenced article, I’m actually illegal to grow in the United States. However, you can buy six foot canes a half inch in diameter at lowes for 3 bucks a pop courtesy of China. Somehow that makes sense, but growing me in your yard for free doesn’t. You might be interested to hear what the illustrious Michael Chertoff, head of the DHS, had to say on the matter of befriending me:
“Privacy in America is a quaint, outdated concept. That’s why we support this legislation. The abolition of bamboo screening in the yards of America will make it much easier for people to see what their neighbors are up to. The passage of this law is one small victory in the larger war against terror.”
Did you know that from 1898 to 1975 the US Department of Agriculture introduced hundreds of my varieties to the states. The plan was to plant me widely as a commercially viable plant. Around 1960, the New Crops Branch of the USDA studied Phyllostachys bambusoides and loblolly pine to compare yields for pulp production. Then on July 1, 1965 the Department of Agriculture just stopped researching me. I was very confused by that because I’m much more virile than pine. Latter I found out that the government turned their back on me because loblolly pine business interests wanted them to. The same thing happened to hemp.
Contrary to what idiots may think, I am native to North America. I’m not an invasive weed, or a pest. For some reason Americans seem to think that I can defy the laws of nature. They think I will “take over” if you plant me. Well, yeah, I will take over if you don’t keep me in check. Let me tell you a little secret. I’ll throw this little nugget out there as a peace offering; I have an Achilles Heel. If you want to control me, all you have to do is dig a trench around me and fill it with sand. Then, twice a year, you take a spade and plunge it into the sand. When you find one of my rhizomes you cut it. It’s called root pruning (or rhizome pruning in my case), and it really is that easy. If you do that I won’t escape containment. Well, I may still find my way out by plunging down beneath your trench, but eventually, if I do that, I’ll send up a shoot and then you’ll know where I escaped. Then you just eat the shoot, or don’t, and pull the rhizome up and put me back into containment.
My growth habits are not a state secret, and I’m easy to contain if you just understand how I grow. Sure, once I get established as a healthy grove I’m just about impossible to get rid of, but then what’s wrong with being strong and powerful? I am stronger than steel and I’m capable of weathering hurricanes. Indigenous cultures know that when mother nature strikes via natural disasters I’m the safest place to seek refuge. I’ve been told that I have somewhere around 1400 uses for mankind. Why, kind reader, do Americans hate the most useful plant to them on the planet?!!!

Evidence of the Bamboo Monster

Off the keyboard  & cameras of Lucid Dreams & Gypsy Mama

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on August 3, 2014 & on SUN4Living on Aug 4, 2014

ninja fox

Discuss this Photo Blog at the Doomsteading Table inside the Diner

Let me take you on a journey through a magical land inhabited by Pagans, Druids, Witches, and Bamboo Monsters.  It’s located in the Upstate of SC and is home to the SUN Foundation.  Ancient Earth Design  also resides in this location, as does the Fox Den and the Gypsy House.  Tribanns are to be found, as are treasures, gourds, and bamboo bones (I think they are the phalanges of the Bamboo Monster himself).  Legend and myth is unfolding here, and if one looks closely enough fairies can be spotted racing from earth mound to earth mound.  It all amounts to hope in a hopeless time.  In other words, beyond monetary value, and beyond business as usual.  For there is very little BAU to be found here.  It’s cordoned off and kept at bay by intentional magic.  As in the esoterically occult kind.  The kind that uses natural objects to weave meaning, purpose, and intentionality.  Join me on this journey.  Captured in one windy, unusually chilly, overcast and drizzily day after a storm had passed.

IMG_9128

“Little Chicky” with his mother the broody hen. His only other sibling drowned in the water bowl on day two.

IMG_9124

most of the flock

IMG_9117

my favorite wild edible, Sorrel. Taste like lemon and it’s growing all over my yard probably due to the horse manure brought onto the land three years ago.

IMG_9116

The front swale and berm. Most of my garden is behind it.

IMG_9111

Phyllostachy Spectabils. This is a 2014 cane, or culm, showing spectabilis character with the twisting motion. It will also grow canes in a zig zag pattern from time to time.

IMG_9110

the reddish looking canes were the original canes I transplanted. The yellow are 2014 canes.

IMG_8928

spectabilis, gourds, and peppers on the front berm.

IMG_9097

phyllostachy aurea “koi”. The other side of that cane is green. What you see is the south facing side. It changes color due to southern exposure, while the other side stays green.

IMG_9096

see what I mean?

IMG_9085

rooster spur pepper next to phyllostachy negra. No canes yet, just leaves and stems off the rhizome. Next spring I’ll get canes.

IMG_9087

the tip of “bamboo island” with several peppers and Pseudosasa Japonica, or “Arrow Bamboo.” The Japanese use it to make arrow shafts due to the perfectly straight growth and perfect culm diameter.

IMG_9088

Arrow up close

IMG_9093

Bamboo Islands swale full of water after it rained the previous night.

IMG_9052

Bamboo Island

IMG_9098

Bamboo island as seen from my deck. In five years you won’t be able to see the trailer park.

IMG_9044

Saint John’s Wort growing on a hugel bed amongst Lavender, gourds, tomatoes, blueberries, morning glories, and grass.

IMG_9042

raspberries planted this spring.

IMG_9039

comfry

IMG_9041

a fuji apple tree guyed with some bamboo. Planted late spring 2014.

IMG_9036

the hugel bed that Saint John is growing in.

IMG_9026

Aji Crystal peppers. They have a citrus flavor with the heat of Jalapenos.

IMG_9024

gourd central

IMG_9019

one of my many bamboo trellises

IMG_9018

one of my compost bins. I actually used this compost today for the planting of phyllostachy Vivax and Negra.

IMG_9014

a maple I transplanted after it grew from underneath my deck. It grew through the deck and leafed out. The part I transplanted was the part that was beneath the deck.

IMG_9013

Montmorency Cherry tree with Georgia Belle peach behind it. Both are growing in hugel.

IMG_9011

Aji Crystal growing next to one of last years dried out gourds on a hugel bed.

IMG_9021

Tomatoes, gourds, and peppers growing on a hugel bed.

IMG_9016

cut this maple down on a job a few weeks ago. I used the entire maple for a hugel spiral. My foot is size 13 to give an idea of the size of that tree.

IMG_9004

Front swale after a rain.

IMG_9000

Zen’s leg in the swale

IMG_8996

front swale with a black locust tree sapling I planted a couple of months ago growing at the edge. Black locust is very fast growing, it grows straight, makes rot resistant posts that will last 80 years plus in the ground as posts, and it’s blooms are edible. It would be the most valuable species of wood for the timber industry if it weren’t for a beetle that gets it at around year ten.

IMG_8989

concord grapes growing amongst gourds next to a fuji apple tree.

IMG_8986

our sacred fire pit

IMG_8984

a message to the future about what us Druids did to television in the 21st century. Presumably that plastic cathode tv case will be there on that post when the post rots to the ground.

IMG_8982

blueberries being “gourdtacked” as my wife likes to call what gourds do if you let them alone.

IMG_8980

one of our hundred of gourds.

IMG_8969

bamboo bones left by the Bamboo Monster. He lives here at the Fox Den and SUN HQ.

IMG_8963

a lot of plant growth in my garden.

IMG_8949

a bee on a gourd flower

IMG_8896

a “golden” bamboo staff altered by the sun and my creativity.

IMG_8895

The end of that bamboo staff after I stuck it in the soil of one of my hugel beds.

IMG_8892

mushrooms love hugelkulture

IMG_8867

Another type of mushroom. I use mulch I get for free at the dump. It’s got a wide diversity of different wood in it, therefore my garden has a pretty wide diversity of mushrooms.

IMG_8886

more green in the garden

IMG_8688

The Hugel Garden seen from my deck.

IMG_9072

The front swale and berm of my hugel garden. The Gypsy House is seen in the background. The Gypsy House is actually where the SUN Foundation is physically located.

IMG_9078

phyllostachy Aurea, AKA “Fish pole bamboo,” as well as “Golden”. It’s growing next to my house. I just planted it there a month ago.

IMG_9079

the decorative nodal segments of Aurea. In Asia they use them for umbrella handles, as well as any other manner of craft you can imagine due to that type of growth. It’s amongst the most ornamental of any bamboo, and it’s ubiquitous in the south.

IMG_9062

where most of the water goes on my property. The pond, which I still need to line. I’m going to use old blow up mattresses to line it. Then we’re getting ducks.

IMG_9132

The new chicken shack I built from mostly salvaged wood and bamboo. I bought one sheet of plywood.

IMG_9080

Aurea

IMG_8883

me, Lucid Dreams

IMG_8967

my oldest boy, Ayden Zen, protecting his bamboo bones from the “ostrich,” apparently aunt Bee had just red him a book about ostriches. You can also use bamboo bones for divination. I do.

IMG_8927

the reflection of spectabilis in the swale beneath the berm it’s planted in. If you watch and listen closely, you can see and hear the Bamboo Monster himself drinking the water from that swale.

Why Does a Druid Ride a Lawn Mower?

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on July 23, 2014

2001 Ape with iphone.jpg

Discuss this article at the Doomsteading Table inside the Diner

Our industrial civilization seems to me to be in a state of suspended de-animation. The narcissistic techno imagadget cyborg drones are anything but animated. Their avatars are all over the internet while their bodies are aimlessly burning fossil fuels in support of an insanity continually left unnoticed. A new reality has come into existence. It’s a reality never before seen, and it’s a direct result of the lottery our species won which has paid us in concentrated golden energy derived from the sun. Most first world inhabitants have no idea how this lottery pay off has distorted our collective reality, or that it’s a miniscule fraction on the time line that is the human experience on this living Earth. The portal by which our first world society now sustains this ridiculous electronic virtual contrivance, is the imagadget “smart phone.”

The smart phone may be smart, but it’s made us stupid. It’s become a perpetual soul vacuum that’s sucked the human spirit into it’s electronic clutches. It’s attached horse blinders to our collective imagination and crushed our bodies into useless meat riddled with nuclear powered cancer and super bugs. Super bugs that are hard at work creating a future misery the likes of which our anesthetized imagination cannot imagine. We look through this device to see a matrix composed of artificial constructs designed to be nice. The device keeps us all endlessly distracted from looking at one another, all while we spend all of our time looking at one another while scrolling through a multitude of lives taking place virtually. What more does one need than the phenomenon that is the “selfie?” How have we come to a place where it is considered completely normal to take a picture of one’s self and then post it amongst a cascade of other selfies? Everybody is looking at themselves through this electronic mirror. Narcissist’s reflective pool broadcast ubiquitously and completely. It’s come to a place where putting down the drug is no longer possible. The will just is not there. The truth is that we all know how pointless this distraction has become…at least deep down in the recesses of our collective psyche.

We continue to wake up day after day stuck in this suspended de-animation. There are simply to many disgusting creatures crawling around just beneath the surface of the early 21st century human experience for us to fathom. This pretend land we take selfies in is made possible by third world wage slavery. The clothing we pay too much for that is featured in our masturbated pics was stitched together by a people whom might as well be living in a dumpster full of our second hand hedonistic stickyness. A dumpster that receives the shitty end of the planned obsolescence they slave away to create for us. Then there is the Earth that supports us which we have turned into a sewer of cast off desires which catches the overflow from the dumpster those unfortunate slaves live in. Each of us kings and queens entitled to create suffocating trash in a ritual of daily consumption. Drones fly and innocent brown people die for the energy to keep this diseased tragedy going and growing. Of course, none of this matters in the nice imagadget reality we all inhabit. Well, maybe not all of us inhabit that reality. I don’t.

My world mostly takes place outside. Everyday I make it a point to pay attention to the natural world. That world doesn’t require a grid to sustain itself. It doesn’t require ancient fossil energy either. What it requires is a willingness to participate in the struggle for life. I’m attempting to learn how to participate in that struggle with grace and equanimity. This dance happens on the bio side of biophobia, and it requires acceptance of the gooey, slimey, smelly, living bodily fluid that is required to support life. It crawls in the soil and smells of Earth. It grows out of the ground and has an enduring intelligence the likes of which we should strive to possess. It pays us in natural splendor, taste, and fertility. It’s time takes place in rotations, tilts, and revolutions. It’s life follows the sun and sleeps on the Earth. This marvelous happening dazzles the senses in slow motion. The natural magnificence I’m describing does not show up on the imagadget. It doesn’t fit that artificial electronic mold.

http://cbskilt2.files.wordpress.com/2013/08/lawnmower.jpg

Where does all of this leave me and people like me? It leaves us stuck between artificial sustenance and quality starvation. Between pointlessness and a natural sanity thought putrid and insane by the imagadget followers. Followers that do not support the efforts needed most to keep our species healthy and thriving in the nonindustrial future which we have guaranteed our children will get. Which isn’t a bad thing, it’s actually good, but there’s a lot of pain between now and the backside of that good. There’s a lot of disease, starvation, marshal law, war, death and suffering to go before anything like good will come of it. At least the imagadget will eventually go the way of the dodo. What this all means to me is that I must labor at destructive, soul crushing, BAU support to keep my family out of debt and fed. I’m a nuclear engineer medic turned riding lawn mower/weed eater operator. I’ve dropped out of everything this society has offered up to me. I’ve done so because none of it could stand up to my personal sense of ethics. The nuclear engineering created toxic waste and killed lots of brown people. The once healthcare turned wealthcare and supported nothing but rich fuckers and their corporations. We have a large industry that makes people rich by parasatizing human bodies, and I’m not talking about the war machine here either. I’m talking about our wealthcare system.

This is all how a Druid has come to ride a lawn mower for money. This is all why a Druid cuts down trees, pulls up vines, trims ornamental shrubbery, and does all of the other trappings of conventional landscaping for money. It’s one of the most pressing ironies of my life (and my employer is a 69 year old retired army Sergeant Major to boot). I do battle with nature for money, and then I come home and practice permaculture. I have a permaculture business named Ancient Earth Design, but nobody wants to pay for permaculture because they don’t see the need for edible landscaping. They all see a need for the most worthless plants imaginable. Plants that only yield pretty and nice, but not medicinal and edible…or even useful for that matter. All of the nice ornamental plant growth gets carted off to that dumpster full of our stupidity to rot in the landfill with the diapers. Society pays a lot of money to keep the grass and ornamental landscapes trimmed up and under control. Society won’t pay shit to have whole systems implemented on their landscape. Natural systems that work with nature to create abundance by way of food producing plants and animals. Society has no use for food and medicine. They’re to busy texting, sexting, selfying, and just plan virtual masturbating to care about the natural world that sustains us all.

Eventually the permaculture system I have in place here on this one acre I live on will mature, and maybe I won’t have to work at cutting grass for other people as much then. I don’t care about money, but money cares about me. I don’t care much about society either, but here I am, cutting their damned grass. I’ve thought about going back to college, but then I realized that college doesn’t result in a job, it just results in debt. I know how to read books, and books are free at the library. Even if college does result in a job it’s just more BAU support. BAU does nothing but destroy life. It produces food by killing everything in the soil with multitudes of poisons. It turns brown people into wage slaves and gives everybody cancer. I suppose none of that matters because the selfie nation doesn’t care. At any rate, in the morning I’m off to go ride a lawn mower and operate a weed eater. At least nature will forgive me…I hope. It has to forgive me. After all, I have five different species of bamboo growing on this acre. I’m nursing the bamboo monster in hopes that it will grow up and destroy BAU. Consider this your warning! The bamboo monster is coming to getcha, and when he does this Druid will stop riding god foresaken lawn mowers. I much prefer the sickle.

http://www.bamboogarden.com/P.edulis.Oggie.jpg

An Unlikely Convocation

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on May 14, 2014

ninja fox

Discuss this article at the SUN Table inside the Diner

SAMSUNG CSC

There’s a Knight standing next to me now. He’s got a peace necklace on and he’s holding two black and white feathers found in Texas. Before that, while he was still in Texas, he was holding flowers. He was a gift given to me by a stoned and druken WASP shaman from Minnesota. What he was doing in Texas is hard to say, but so is saying what I was doing there. I was there to meet people I’ve been in written communication with for the last several years. Those in attendance included a shaman, two ritual magicians, a Dentist, a webmaster hermit shut in from Alaska, a Druid, a Shaman Witch (for now at least, and born during the Convocation), and two Druid/Shaman Witch children.
There were wigs, and boomerangs, and 50 year old Texas spider monkey dentists 30 feet up in a tree trying to retrieve a stuck boomerang, and weather magic, and shamanistic happenings, and a 200 year old pecan tree that was actually Old Man Time, and tractor joy rides ending in busted hydraulic lines, and Monolithic dome building, and out door showers erected complete with a Diner noose, hugel beds constructed, gray water retention snake heads (I dug a big ass hole), and my wife walked naked down a limestone dry creek bed by full moonlight…ohh, and I had an actual fox run across my path. Ayden Zen was in communion with the fox just before I walked up and interrupted.
You should have been there for this meeting of minds and souls. I can speak to what I was doing there now. I was there with my family looking for some hope. It’s looking pretty hopeless out there these days, what with the writing on the wall and whatnot. BAU continues until it doesn’t. So some Diners got together in Bum Fuck Egypt Texas to figure on some hope, and to learn how to build Monolithic domes, which are earthquake, hurricane, tornado, and fire proof domiciles that can be built for less money than a stick built piece of shit of the same square footage. These are domiciles that have withstood 300 mph winds and American Apache helicopter strikes, and simply need you to shut the door when a fire breaks out (they’re so air tight that the fire will starve for oxygen before it can do much damage…and anyways concrete doesn’t burn).
What’s the point of a fox crossing my path, or any of the other oddities encountered during the first Diner Convocation? I’m still trying to figure all of that out, and there’s a lot that happened that I won’t be writing about (including what happened after I found my wife walking naked down the limestone creek bed by moonlight). Interestingly, while all of this real life magic was going down in Bum Fuck Texas, trolls were hard a work lambasting the very thing that was allowing all of the real world magic to occur. Why is that? I think it’s because they are afraid. They don’t want to admit that it’s come to a group of internet forum friends meeting in Texas for difference to be made in this rigged catastrophe of a petroleum dependent clustercuss. They don’t want to admit that technotriumphalism is not going to save a damn thing…accept maybe some people from dealing with the thermodynamic constraints we’re all forced to adhere to.
Will we build domes as a result of this meeting? Is there a chance for prosperity for normal people in the near future? Is the Orwellian New World Bravely going to persist and even evolve into draconian dystopians unimagined by the doomerist doomers? Why does BAU continue unabated?
For my part, and the part of my family, we’ve only just begun on this journey that started here at Epiphany Now and migrated to the Doomstead Diner, and now the SUN. My family is planning a trip to California soon. We’ll be burning a lot of petroleum by way of the internal combustion engine in our Saturn Vue to make it there. We’ll be camping in state parks just like we did to and from the Convocation. I’ve got a cousin getting married, and we’ve got a tribe to meet in Fresno. The tribe is a coven of magicians. While at the Convocation I had visions filled with symbols I’m not ready to understand yet. My family slept outside of the Toothstead house in an REI tent titled the “Hobitat.” I awoke from these mysterious visions at the beginning of the Convocation to a monstrous clap of thunder followed by a torrential downpour. The day before this I saw intentional weather magic being worked, as well as a group rain dance in which I supplied the shamanistic beats. Beats I didn’t even know I had. Beats accompanied by impromptu musical instruments made by using common kitchen utensils (I was using a 3 gallon bucket myself to drive this thing). This downpour happened amidst a terrible Texas drought.
I was confused by all of this meaning. I was depressed after it was over and we returned to our trailer park Whoville everywhere America. I’m still depressed by how beautiful it could be and yet isn’t. How it could all just mean nothing, and how we could remain stuck here where the Zombies will eat our table for lunch. Some things in life do not make sense, and yet they are magical in spite of Cartesian, Newtonian, and Apollonian logic. I chose to believe that all of the Convoction magic was just that, magic. It’s not as if anyone can prove me wrong, not when we know that the act of scientific observation changes the outcome of the observation. Not when the truth is that we make our own meaning, our own myths, and our own minds. What’s your mind doing about infinite growth on a finite planet? Mine is creating 21st century living tribes out of the virtual reality of the net. We’ve met, in person, in Bum Fuck Egypt Texas, and we still like each other. We’re all who we said we were. Here’s to the first Diner Dome we’re gonna build. Here’s to a future where some of us survive and even thrive. Some of us…likely not many…but at least my new tribe is trying. How about yours? RIP Mike Ruppert. I’m already not the slowest camper. It may be that my tribe is the fastest. However unlikely our Convocation.

The 1st Diner Convocation II

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on March 20, 2014

Discuss this article at the SUN Table inside the Diner

In 2007 I read James Howard Kunstler’s The Long Emergency, and my life changed irrevocably due to the information I received from that book. Shortly after, I joined the Kunstlercast forum and posted many threads and had many in depth conversations about collapse, peak oil, and the ramifications of our infinite growth on a finite planet paradigm. I also began digesting collapse related books with precision and efficiency, and I would often order five or six books at a time by authors like Richard Heinberg, Dmitry Orlov, John Michael Greer, Michael Ruppert, and Jared Diamond just to name a few. Figuring out what the collapse of our modern petroleum dependent civilization meant to me was no easy task. I’m an Aspie, so it wasn’t an emotional affair for me to deal with, but it was stressful nonetheless, and collapse became a “special interest,” and it’s a special interest that is still current for me. Mostly because I’m unable to not abide in the truth of things. It seems this to is part of my Aspie brain (I’ll be writing about Asperger’s Syndrome much more in the coming months because I have just recently stopped being in denial about the diagnosis…but this particular blog is not the time to do that).

I was a daily contributor over at the Kunstlercast, and it was the first forum I’d ever been a member of. I greatly enjoyed communicating with like minds on that forum via the written medium. I fell in love with it actually, and the regular contributors became my friends (which was great since IRL friends are difficult for me to acquire). This was a set of people whom would talk about the truths surrounding PO with me for hours on end, which is still next to impossible to do with people IRL. Threads that would stretch for days and days. I was a conspiracy theorist at this time in my life and had been for about five years. The “Kcats,” as we called ourselves, helped open my eyes a bit about the nature of conspiracy theories and their many half truths. Around 2009 or so I got tired of the same old shit being discussed over and over again via countless incarnations on the Kunstlercast forum. It got boring and I decided to leave the forum without a word about it really. I just sorta left one day and never went back. I also deleted my facebook account around this same time and focused all of my writing on this blog.
The only blog I was reading at this time was John Michael Greer’s Archdruid Report. He came up with the concept of the Green Wizard, and a forum was devoted to the project, which I frequented for a while. I had shifted my focus from understanding the nature of our predicament to wanting to act on the information. What became important to me was the answer to the question “what am I going to do about collapse?” The Green Wizard Project (GWP) was exactly what I needed. The GWP was mostly designed for solitary green wizards, and it was about using appropriate tech and about developing strategies that would help with minimizing the impact that the Long Descent would have on the GWP participants. The psychological component of the GWP can be summed up by JMG’s own acronym “LESS.” Less entertainment, stuff, and stimulation. JMG advises us all to step back into voluntary simplicity and learn how to live more in tune with the natural world and it’s cycles and it’s renewable pace. I became a Druid as well. For the next couple of years practicing green wizardry was sufficient for me as a response to collapse, but that to began to change as my understanding of our predicament began intensifying.
I realized that the only chance of survival in a shit hits the fan scenario, or even just a long descent scenario, would be real community. As far as I can tell, real community has gone extinct in our imagadget, narcissistic, techno delusional, American Hologram deployed and Matrix controlled consumer waste generating stank of a society. I had found fellow blogger William Hunter Duncan’s blog, Off The Grid in Minneapolis, via a comment he left over at the Archdruid Report. William resonated very strongly with me (which interestingly enough, William now works with autistic people as his job). I began following his blog, and he began following mine. He may well have been the first “follower” of mine on this blog. We became good virtual friends and even exchanged books we were writing for back and forth criticism and suggestions. He told me about a new forum that he was an administrator for called the Doomstead Diner. I went and had a look, but I still had a sour taste in my mouth after boring with the Kunstlercast forum. I looked around and it appeared to be just about the exact same thing as the Kcast forum with different avatars. After a short visit I decided that I wasn’t interested in joining as a member (and I just found out, via going to the kunstlercast forum to copy the web address for the hyperlink for this blog that I’ve been banned from the Kunstlercast Forum for some unknown reason).
Several months later I left a comment on Morris Berman’s blog and RE, the man responsible for the existence of the Doomstead Diner, saw it and it peaked his interest enough to come over here to see what I was about. William had commented on that blog and RE saw this and apparently formed the opinion that I may be a good match as a cross poster on the Diner. It felt good to have somebody seek me out for my writing, and I was more than happy to have my essays published on the Diner. I figured since I was going to be publishing my blog on the Diner that I might as well have a more focused look around to see what was shakin’ in the Diner world. I’ve been an active participant and a Diner ever since. Not long after I arrived at the Diner fellow Diner Roamer arrived and posted a thread titled “Community OwnedDoomstead.” That thread lit a spark that found good tinder and began smoking. Roamer knew about 150 acres in NC that an elderly couple owned and were interested in allowing more able bodied individuals to cultivate the land in permaculture fashion. My wife Gypsy Mama and son Ayden Zen and I all drove to NC to meet Roamer in person along with his on again off again lady friend. We met in a coffee shop across the street from the university my wife graduated from, and we all instantly liked each other. It was the first time I had ever met a virtual friend in real life…making Roamer an “in real life” friend as well. This was a very exciting and important step for the Diner. As it turns out, Roamer, GM and I’s meeting was foreshadowing the now not too distant future. The 150 acres didn’t work out on account of dementia and Cat Food Carol, but that’s a long story (and you likely already know it if you’re reading this blog). We came a pubic hair away from the first Sunstead (at the time it had been dubbed the Foxstead) within weeks of the first attempt that the Diner’s made for a community owned doomstead.
We’ve since been working towards figuring out how to bioneer our way into a petroleum scarce world. We’ve been trying to figure out how we move forward from this point. How do we structure a new way to inhabit the land and use it’s resources to meet our basic human needs in a sustainable and healing way? We don’t want a commune, but we want something intentional that empowers the Sunsteaders, and gives us autonomy and meaningful community at the same time. Eventually the new effort was dubbed the SUN project (sustaining universal needs). Our driving ethic is to “save as many as you can.” This translating into a tribal unit we are currently calling the “Sunstead.” We want the Sunstead to be a self replicating template that will pop up like mushrooms in spite of the Near Term Human Extinction (NTHE) meme. NTHE being the idea that all life on Earth will be going extinct sometime in the next two decades (as soon as five years from now) due to run away positive feedback loops running amok in the climate control mechanisms of our planet. They may be right, but I refuse to live in a world with no hope, and I recognize that there is no way anybody can know what the planet will do. While our civilization is definitely collapsing, and while we are doing our level best to shit all over the planet that sustains us with our incessant chemical creation and consumptive waste generation, our planet is a living organism which we cannot study under a microscope.  We can’t possibly know how the Earth will react.
The Sun Foundation is now a 501c3 non-profit organization, and we are currently waiting for the magic government letter to arrive so that we can begin accepting charitable donations from people like you, whom care about the reality outside of the Matrix, and our engagement with the wasteland we’ve inherited. In a little under two weeks a select few Diner members are going to converge on the Toothstead in Texas for the purposes of the first Diner Convocation, and for training in Monolithic Dome construction.
The coming Convocation is proof that we’re not just a bunch of keyboards circle jerking into the endless night about how fucked it all is. We want to do something in the real world about the predicament our civilization’s in. The writing is on the wall, and food prices are fit to bust any time now due to drought and ever increasing super storms. I could go on about all of the problems our crumbling civilization is dealing with, but I’ve done that countless times here already. If you don’t know what the problems are at this point than it’s because you are willfully deluding yourself, or just don’t have the desire to extricate yourself from the Matrix’s mesmerizing hologram. We’re going to meet in Texas, in person, as a symbolic act, to look each other in the eyes and validate the reality of our typed expressions, desires, goals, and to engage with reality of the real, rather than reality of the virtual persuasion. We’re going to drink beer and break bread at a real Doomstead Diner table. We’re going to study Monolithic construction and plant some real seeds of change. We’re going to build a rocket mass heater, have a hole diggin’ contest, possibly film a spoof on the NTHE movie trailer 22 After, and get to know a handful of Diner’s in person. I’ll be bringing my family and my boomerangs.
Most importantly we’re going to ferment in a real life think tank. That’s what the Convocation is ultimately about. For me, it’s a vetting, and it’s a chance to look my fellow Diners in the eyes (I know, ironic considering my Aspie status, but I’ve always been atypical even amongst the atypical…consider that the majority of the medics thought I was weird when I worked EMS to gauge how weird I am…as it turns out, not weird just not neurotypical) and see what I see. Is the SUN Foundation worth my time? Is it something that can be real? Can we actually bioneer a Sunstead, or a Waterstead, or a Foxstead, or a Doomstead? Can we actually be the force that begins fixing this clusterfuck of a predicamentation civilization? Does RE really smoke six packs of cigarettes a day? Is William really bald and in love with the Goddess? Can Eddie fix my fucked up mouth full of metal (just kiddin’ Eddie…at least this time). Will Haniel and I see Aspie to Aspie and relate to one another?
I’m looking forward to finding out the answer to all of those questions. For me, the Convocation is my chance to show everybody that I really am a 6′ 4″ bad ass Aikido ninja permaculture green wizard druid Aspie Diner. It’s my chance to look them all in the eyes, Haniel included, in an attempt to pull as much of their true intentions out so that I can shine my hyperfocused understanding of the human psyche onto them. Here’s hoping we’ll all be comfortable, and that William won’t get his feelings hurt when I dig a bigger hole in the Texas dirt. My wife Gypsy Mama, and my children Ayden Zen and Harper Tribann will be there as well (as far as I know they’re the only children Diners…hell, Harper Tribann was born a Diner). Several Diners will converge in two weeks. To hear RE tell about it, you’ll all get a chance to participate in real time on the net. I hear he’s bought all of the recording devices he could find. If nothing else, for the first time, Diners will break bread at a real Diner table…in Texas…and I’ll get too drunk and throw my boomerangs.

Totem Shift

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epihany Now on March 2, 2014

ninja fox

Discuss this article at the Spirituality and Mysticism Table inside the Diner

Jumping to the Grave
Around about the time I resigned from the Matrix I had a dream in which the fox came to me. He scampered out of the woods and made himself visible to me, and he looked me in the eyes to transfer his magic. To prepare my mind for entrance into a glitch which would allow me to mostly be left unhindered from the Matrix’s control. Fox imbues the magic of invisibility in plain site. I recognized him, and his teaching, and then he disappeared back into the woods, and I woke up. It was a dream vision. I dubbed our new home the “Fox Den” and gave the fox a pedestal at Epiphany Now. About a year after my resignation a real fox was delivered to the Fox Den, and her name was Pepper (but she went by Bo Beppa). She was born from domestic dog parents, but she was no dog, she was a fox. She was the most beautiful animal I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Diggin’ a fox hole
A couple of months ago I was digging in my yard, preparing a hole for a five gallon bucket full of table scraps. The area I dug in, behind a swale and berm, is the worst hard compacted clay SC has to offer. I was tired that day, and I just couldn’t get the hole to the proper dimensions. Pepper loved scrutinizing my holes. She got in the hole, laid down, flipped on her back, and looked up at me as if to say “this will do,” although I only know that in retrospect. I figured since she was enjoying the hole, and I wasn’t going to be dumping five gallons of table scraps in it, that I would just leave it for her. My wife and I had hypothesized that she was actually sleeping in a hole she had dug in my first hugel bed. She dug holes into all of my six hugel beds on a regular basis. So I thought maybe she liked the hole better than what she had dug. At any rate, I moved onto digging a new hole in a different place in the yard where the soil wasn’t quite so compact.
Around this same time I had a dream that I was throwing a boomerang in our yard. I’ve never thrown a boomerang before, and I had no idea what the dream meant, but I decided to go online and purchase a rang. Whatever the reason, I took to throwing boomerangs like I imagine birds enjoy their flight. It has become a meditation for me, and a spiritual practice. Boomerangs connect you to the sky and the wind. They teach you to be still and patient, especially when the wind is blowing too hard. Half of throwing a boomerang is ability to read the wind. If you want it to come back to you than you’ve got to first know which way the wind is blowing and how hard. Then you have to figure out how much layover, how hard to throw, which direction, how high of a release angle, and lastly you just have to get lucky (at least when the wind is blowing), and if all that is done properly the boomerang will come back to you.
We decided to get Pepper fixed around this time. She was right at a year old, and we didn’t want to breed another dog (I mean fox) because we have two kids and one pet is enough extra responsibility. Getting her spayed changed her psychology, or maybe it was just because I was in the fields throwing my boomerang and she wanted to get out of the fence with me. Whatever the case, she started escaping from our yard on a regular basis. She’d run off chasing field mice, or voles, or whatever else caught her noses attention. We live off of a pretty busy two lane road. About a quarter of a mile before our house the speed limit goes from 45 to 55, and people regularly travel 60 to 65 mph.  Knuckle heads will occasionally use that stretch as a temporary drag strip. It’s one of the most dangerous roads I’ve seen, and this is coming from an opinion informed by 6 years on a meat wagon. People get killed all of the time on this road, and near this house to boot.
I came home from an ecological design dig in Asheville NC that day. I was tired from moving large logs and Earth around for a massive hugelspiral construction we were creating. I got home and left our fence open. Pepper got out and got herself ran over on that road. The people across the street called the house, it was about 9 pm, and they asked “is your dog in the house?” No, I replied. “Well there’s a dog out here on the road that’s been run over, looks like it might be yours.” I put my clothes back on and went out to see about it. There was a large lifted 4X4 truck pulled over with a kid no older than 20 standing there with a dip in his mouth. “Over here.” He took me to where she lay dead on the side of the road. I was relieved to see that she was actually dead because I did not want to have to put her down to stop her suffering. She lay there in the ditch, with her tongue hanging out, and just a trickle of blood. Her skin was all in tact, which I still think is strange having been run over by a large truck. I picked her head up and sure enough her neck was broken. I offered my hand to the kid whom had run her over, and I said “it’s not your fault man.” He said “I know it’s not my fault,” got in his truck and sped off.
I carried her remains through the dark to that hole I had dug, placed her in it, got the shovel out of the bed of my truck, and committed her to the Earth. I cried a lot about Pepper for the next couple of days. I could still cry about her if I wanted to. In fact, weeks later, it’s still hard not to. It was more than just the lose of a beloved pet, it felt like a dark magic had descended on the Fox Den. It felt suspicious and as if some intentional evil had been done. It felt like I had lost some very important magic myself, as if something was trying to take it from me. I haven’t lost any magic, in fact, I have gained some. Pepper’s job was complete. The fox world vetted me, and she was the instrument. Pepper was sent to teach me the ways of the fox, so that I may study them and know them. I like to think that she knew her body would eternally rest in that hole we dug together. She’s there now, protecting the Fox Den always. I told our three year old son Ayden Zen that Bo Beppa was invisible now, that she is with us in spirit but that he would likely not see her again, and I took him to her grave to let him say good bye.
A new totem was to arrive shortly after the Fox was finished teaching me his, or her in this case, lesson. The robin showed up shortly after Pepper’s death. I was in the garden, meditating next to Pepper, and a Robin landed close to me. The robin looked at me, just as that fox had looked at me in my dream vision. Only now this was no dream, this was waking life. I walked over to the robin and he led me around the yard for a while, not letting me get closer than five feet. That robin just hung out with me for a while, beckoning me to listen to what it had to say, wondering if I would accept the next phase of my totem progression. “I’ve seen you throwing that boomerang,” robin said to me, “do you really want to know how to fly?” That was the question robin was asking me. Throwing that boomerang is like flying. Every time I throw it my spirit elates with the magical flight path and remains connected to it. It’s as if I’m flying there with it, and apparently the bird world has taken notice.
Around the same time all of this was happening our house burnt to the ground. We were renting the house, the only house my wife and I have ever owned, the one we brought Zen home to from the hospital after his birth.  We were renting the house to renters because I could not resign from the Matrix and afford the mortgage. New renters were moving in that night, and they set a box on the counter in the kitchen next to the stove top. The element got kicked on, and 25,000 gallons of water later the fire was out and the house was gone. Nobody was hurt. Allstate paid the mortgage off and wrote us a check for the remainder of the policy. The Phoenix is rising from those ashes, and it has sent robin to teach me the magic of flight.
Just before our house burned down I decided, uncharacteristically, that what I needed was to go to the local park by myself. I drove to the park, got out of my truck, stretched, and then started running (I hadn’t gone for a run in probably 7 years). It was spontaneous, and it was as if I was not in control of it. Why had I chosen to run in the park on that day? So I ran into the woods and onto a disc golf course. The path started to climb, and I had run about a mile at this point, and so I decided to walk a bit. Before I knew it I was walking along a creek, and so I sat down next to the creek to meditate. Something told me to go 20 yards to my right, up stream, and so I did, and there in the middle of the creek, a foot beneath the water, was a disc somebody had lost. I’ve never played disc golf, but I had always wanted to, so I started throwing the disc along the path of the course. Five holes later, and I was on the back nine of the course. I was kneeling down, looking for the next disc golf basket, trying to figure the course out. A man in his 70’s appeared with a very large dog. I was eyeballing them pretty hard (probably because of the size of the dog) and eventually the man asked me “are you security.” “No,” I said, and we sort of walked towards each other and started talking.
He reminded me of the cover of my copy of John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charlie.  Permaculture came up, as did Bamboo. “I have bamboo,” the man said with elation. His dog’s name is Bodey. I have a cousin named Bodey, it’s not a common name, especially not for a dog, and so my attention was gotten. I had been drawn to bamboo shortly before this meeting. We swapped cell numbers and he invited me to come by his house to check out the bamboo he’d planted. A couple of months went by (in which all of the above story happened), and my wife had started regularly trying to get me to call the man from the park (Gary is his name). We were talking about installing a bamboo stand as a privacy screen, and so I had good reason to go pick his brain. Being Aspergian, however, it’s damn near impossible to get me to reach out to people via phone. Wendy was persistent, and eventually I gave in and called Gary.
So we packed up our family of four, and went to a man’s house whom I’d met only once several months ago. Our son Ayden Zen appears to be having difficulty with speech. Wendy thinks he may have a lisp (I just think it’s cause he’s 3 and a half). At any rate, Gary’s wife had written several books on phonetics…what is this synchronicity? Gary and I talked bamboo for a while and then he handed me a business card that he had gotten via his love of Bamboo for a near by company specializing in bamboo. I put the card in my wallet where it stayed for a couple of weeks.
I began researching bamboo online, and then I began digging a trench to create a bamboo island. The next client for my ecological design business is a female shaman, and she wants a living privacy hedge. I’m hopeful I can convince her that there is none better than bamboo for a privacy hedge. It creates a complete visual block within 4 years. It’s the fastest growing plant on planet earth. Wiki reports that bamboo has been recorded as growing 98 inches in 24 hours. This is nothing short of amazing, and science is still trying to figure out just how it’s possible for bamboo to achieve this phenomenal growth. At any rate, it’s apparently time for me to learn all things bamboo, and so I emailed the email address on that business card, and I asked if I could come pick their brains on all things bamboo. The business is run by a married couple. Their nursery is really not a nursery, but more of an experiment in bamboo prowess. I’ll have to pick this story up in the next installment here at Epiphany Now.
However, I’ll leave the story with this bit of synchronicity and numerology mystery. The day before I went to meet John I looked at the clock at 111, 222, and 444 pm, I never do that.  I usually catch it once where all the numbers are the same.  The bamboo business is actually located in the same county I moved from after resigning from the Matrix. The same county I worked EMS in for 6 years. In fact, my first EMS job, was actually working for the rescue squad that services the town the grove is in. That town’s not far from where our burnt down house resides. The same burnt down house that has that Phoenix rising from it’s ashes. We drove to the Bamboo Forest yesterday with Zen and Tribann, to tour it, to learn all things bamboo so that I can convince a shaman. We pulled up to the field just in front of this endearingly magical place on Earth, and there I met John and his beautiful wife. John has a scruffy beard, he’s from California, and he has Aspergers (if you don’t know, I’m from California and I have Aspergers). The day that would follow would prove to be amongst the most magical days of my life. I’ll tell that story next time.
Part of Bamboo Island

Suffering

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on February 10, 2013

ninja fox

Discuss this article at the Psychology Table inside the Diner

suffering

Sometimes depression is the appropriate response to things. I am an intellectual being, and that space causes suffering. The things I write about below are true, all of them, and they are sad, and I don’t want to be happy about them. If you just want to be happy than don’t read this blog. At least not this entry.
Did you know it’s possible to hear soul atrophy? And why shouldn’t our souls decide to atrophy? What are we, the industrial grade consumers, the bomb chronic radioactive waste generators, the entropic catalytic smoke, the monkey’s whom caught cancer of the mind. What do we need of our souls anyways? We sold them a long time ago on account of delicate tastes in the finer things in life. Like name brand clothing made by brown third world slaves, and air conditioned luxury vehicles. God it’s depressing. I’m depressing myself over here talkin’ about how vile my species is. It’s true that exiting the Matrix means no place left to go. At least not where things are considered normal by societies standards. There’s nothing left but pure unadulterated truth.
I’m free to see the world from a very unique vantage point. Looking from this high peak I can see futility moving across our psychic landscape. That we should pay by selling our very lives to afford ridiculous stick built nonsense overhead…and drywall. That we spend so much time trying to figure out how to come up with this requirement called money, and this while some men just create it out of free flowing electrons and call it “quantitative easing.” What the fuck does that term even mean in reality? That some men get to control the daily realities of a planet full of life? Some men get to be rich while the rest get to be poor. Poor of heart, soul, and spirit, and poor in flesh. Our flesh is even made of less quality than it used to be. We used to be composed of 70% good ole fashioned corn molecules. Now we’re composed of high fructose gentically modified and radioactive Monsanto frankencorn molecules. Along with some 200 other man made chemicals that are floating around in our mothers wombs along with our future progeny.
I can envision a world much different from the one we are in now. A world where integrity, honor, compassion, self worth, and love are central to the political decisions that must be made. Why is it that for one group to prosper another group must get shat all over? Why is it that for us humans to be happy we have to kill everything else healthy about our planet? The answer to both of those questions is that neither have to be true. We can have a world where there is surplus amongst healthy natural systems. We must have that world, but all I see is fear painted on the faces of every automaton, and fear ensures that we continue getting this same cancerous, made from virus, reality.
I see cell phones plastered to the side of every motorist, and when the screens aren’t stuck to the side of the head they’re out front gettin’ texted (sounds dirty doesn’t it). What do we need with all these god damned electronic screens? They aren’t reality, even though we make them so. You can occupy Facebook with art all you want to, it’s still taking your energy and making you narcissistic. Why don’t you go occupy one of your “friends” house? I bet if you did go to your friends house they wouldn’t notice you due to all the electronic idiot panels. They’d likely be to busy liking their friends on Facebook to notice your “in real life” self standing there. Why should they notice you? If they noticed you, they might then be forced to notice something outside the window, something that’s outside where the nature is.
There ain’t shit natural about an idiot panel imagadget (and for the record, I’m no damn gadget). All of this virtual reality makes real reality diminish. The more we give our energy to those screens, the more our souls atrophy. You can hear the sound from outside of the Matrix. Yet due to the interconnectivity of all things, you can also hear your soul being sucked into the mess, and against your will. We’re all drowning alone together, and we’re all miserable, but we keep on insisting we must drown to death on comfort and plausible deniability. We insist that what we are doing is okay when it’s anything but. It’s not alright to continue living the way that we do, our highest good being trash generation for profit, all while serving as slaves to a machine that itself is receiving palliative care by way of digibit printing. It will continue spittin’ those ones and zeros out until either we use all of the fossil energy, or the use of that fossil energy finishes choking all life off of this planet, or we do something about it.
So what are we going to do about it? I refuse to continue with business as usual, and I’ll refuse any response that requires more of it. You want to own the land? How can you own the land? Even in the delusional version of land ownership you still have codes and taxes, both of which require money. Money for you to go get. You don’t get to just print the money either, that’s reserved for your masters, you have to sell yourself by the hour for it. There are those whom just have a lot of it. Those of us whom managed to have the brains to figure out how to get it, or were just connected enough from birth to the source of that magic digibit lever up in DC. The way I see it, those of us whom were born short changed, need to start taking from those whom have always had. Exactly like Robyn Hode.
I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet. It’s just an idea I’ve just started to think about. What is right and wrong in our world anyways? Is the highest good to honor land ownership? Some bankers said this piece of ground is yours (as long as you comply with codes and pay your taxes) and you can do as you wish with it. Then that same banker said that his corporation was a person with the same damn rights. Now that corporate person decides to shit all over his land with chemicals designed to bring death to healthy cells, with radioactivity, with poisonous food, and with “water” that can be lit on fire. What better symbol do you need for how fucked things are when you can light your tap water on fire. I’d laugh my ass off about that if it weren’t for the unfortunate fact that there’s nothing funny about it. The message I receive is that it’s alright to be a corporate person and shit all over the land with death agents, fuck the water up, heat the planet up, kill everything that’s not human (and even kill humans if your an empire) for no reason, and all of that’s just fine with the “law” of the land. This is the same law that I’m supposed to respect? The same law that you are supposed to respect?
Well, these are the laws that make our present world. Yeah, but at least we’ve got ten million food products with high fructose petroleum sugar and we’re not hungry…all 7 billion of us…and counting. I keep looking for an answer to this trash dump we’ve created for ourselves. I’m convinced there’s not one spot on this planet without man made trash. Nature doesn’t make trash. It makes feces, but then it uses that shit to pretty much perpetuate itself, until we came along and came up with the concept of shit, and now our leaders get to shit all over us and everything else. Maybe its all some fucked up God joke where everything shits on everything else until the end. Humans crave suffering like fish crave water.

Release Your Inner Rock Angle

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on January 23, 2014

ninja fox

Discuss this article at the Sustainable Energy Table inside the Diner

I’ve been quiet lately here at Epiphany Now. I’m suffering from a bit of reality induced writers block. I’m tired of doom, and the amount of doominess that’s just outside waiting for me, and you, and anybody else not anesthetized on fukitol, corn beer, and big idiot clowns smashing into each other for the purposes of moving a pigskin around on fake grass. Even the fuckin’ grass is fake in that wallerd out carcass of a long past stinkin’ dead horse that is American football. Even the name is arrogant since football (as in the game where you kick a ball around with your feet) is probably one of the oldest sports. A game that’s played and recognized globally as football, but here we call it soccer and reserve the name “football” for a sport that has very little to do with kicking a ball. It seems we can’t even be honest about our sports, and that we need to be exceptionally different along with how we measure things. The rest of the world uses metrics, what with it’s easy to understand increments of 10.
What of the metrics of the future? Agreeing on how we measure that, be it with metrics or standard, they both spell the collapse of our complex civilization. Not a collapse fit for television or the big screen, but one fit for a detention room with a group of misfits nobody wants to be around (that’s the rag tag group of genius boomers at the Diner… well actually the Diner is a good cross section of different ages). Each year will be shittier for more people, and eventually you may be amongst their roles. Present and not accounted for as an economic non-person who’s been pushed to the margins of a collapsing society without so much as a reach around for the years spent servicing that big tube up your anus, stuck there by the machine, and always sucking memories out to feed the bullshit black hole that the American Hologram projects into every mush for brained i gadget wielding cyborg. Where reality is presented on smaller and smaller screens that we all hunch at, growing crooked, and gnarly in our weaknesses with obsolete flesh. Flesh composed mostly of man made chemicals…flesh maintained on genetic modification and powered by ancient fossil sunlight, as John Michael Greer recently dubbed petroleum.
Why should those internet i gadget cyborgs look away from their ithingies? Why should they wake up and notice that memory hole tube up their ass that’s powering the Matrix? We can’t all be Neo, and it seems whenever he tries to make an appearance he’s whisked away to a kookville for profit, corporatocracy owned private prison (it’s interesting to me that Google Blogger doesn’t recognize “corporatocracy” as a word). Those state of the art prisons they’ve been steady building need prisoners to remain a profitable business. You can’t make money on building and running prisons with no prisoners now can you? It helps that the laws have been rewritten so that we can be deleted in some forgotten military prison that’s tucked away where nobody will ever notice. They might as well just send us to the land of away, with the rest of the trash in our consumer fueled “landfills,” or trash dumps as I prefer to call them. At least that’s an honest description. The place where our inability to think past the newest flavor Dorito goes to rot, along with any chance at a future that doesn’t resemble something you’d likely find somewhere in a smog choked Chinese slum, or an Indian one for that matter. There’s nowhere left to go from here except straight into what’s left when the fog from a perpetual progress myth dissipates, and there’s no longer anything that agrees with the stories you tell yourself…that you verify with that imagidgit and all of those stupid scripted stories that pass through that memory tube up your ass. It’s always convincing you that what you need is to work more hours for less pay and no benefits so that you can afford to support those slums that steady chuck out shit for you to buy. Shit that breaks just as soon as you bring it home. Your home being just a place for the thing to pass through on it’s way to the trash dump.
How empty can we imagine ourselves to be? Can we get much more empty than a paradigm that mines the wealth of nature for the production of trash? A system that subjugates everybody to it’s incessant worship of profit as the only sacred. The game is rigged. You gotta have money to play. Now you gotta comply to the new wealthcare mandates or be fined, leading to imprisoned…eventually. Just being alive requires that you pay, and only money will be accepted as payment. Well, that’s not true, there is also the option of an all expense paid incarceration in one of those for profit prison businesses where you can make a few cents a day to pay for the cigarettes that will hopefully kill you before your prison gay cell mate decides to push your shit in. It doesn’t sound that bad does it. It sounds like you could almost learn to enjoy having your shit pushed in doesn’t it?
The trouble is not in imagining a world where money is not required.  It’s actually quite easy to imagine. It’s just that you’d be imagining a lie. Money’s not going to go away, and nor are the men whom control it’s completely hallucinated nature. In fact, those men control trigger happy goons in police suits. And those police suits revel in their high tech deadly weaponry, and in the sound that their boots make when they stomp on your freedom to be a slave in this Orwellian New World Bravely that’s become the reality surrounding the imagidgits we’re all plugged into. Well, we’re not all plugged into them, at least not unconsciously. There are those of us whom are trying to come up with solutions to all of this totalitarian tyranny over nature and the mass human mind. We’re out here hiding in plain site where we are free to think about the world outside of the Matrix. Hiding in glitches hoping for a miracle and trying not to fall prey to near term human extinction nihilism (or one of those shit pushin’ in prisons).
The way forward is to no longer care about the Matrix and the goons whom worship at it’s suffering feet. We need to collectively turn our backs on the system. I’m trying my hardest to do that, but there aren’t many options and it requires a bit of luck to pull off. We don’t have the money to build a future before the Matrix grinds to a halt (one stair step at a time all the way to collapse). The answer is as simple as access to land so that we, the unplugged and empowered forward thinkers, can begin setting up the natural systems that will sustain us. It’s easy to do! Real easy on the ground, and especially while we still have tractors and chainsaws. Restoration Agriculture, permaculture, ecological design, and perennial agriculture are all ideas that seek to implement the answers to all of the problems we face as a species.
Money stands in our way, true, but more importantly we stand in our way. We need to get out of our way, and that’s exactly what us Heliopaths are trying to do at the SUN Foundation. We are trying to believe that as bad as the endless procession of problems we face on this planet are, that they are not insurmountable. There has to be a way through the endless storm that industrial civilization is proving to be. We’ve turned ourselves into slaves and are doing our level best to destroy life supporting biomes on this planet. As a Heliopathic Rasta Man Druid it’s my job to figure this shit out (and it’s okay to laugh at my dumb ass self applied moniker). As a father and husband it’s my responsibility. Hell, as a sentient being with access to abstract thinking, it’s my responsibility to figure this out. This is a call for help. If you are reading this, and you have not been to the SUNFoundation website, please do drop by for a visit. Have a look around and ask questions. Join the dialogue about how we’re going to fix this mess and contribute to the solutions we’re so desperately in need of.
I believe that the solutions to the demise of this industrial civilization will have to be small, grass roots, decentralized, and connected to the natural world, just like SUN Foundation is. The solutions will not happen if you don’t try to pull them out, if we don’t try. You, I, the other guy…us all. The goons are coming for us all sooner or later. Their masters already have all of your rights locked safely away at the bottom of the Land of Away with all of our mindless consumption, and that’s all right next to the shit storm future we’ve left for our children. I refuse to be a part of a wealth pump that grinds up whole mountains, and oceans, and peoples just to spooge it all back out onto itself and everybody else in an endless act of hedonistic narcissistic greed. We fuel this machine with our apathy. We give our power away for the right to consume imagidgits and America’s Got Talent. Let us take the land back, and so take our power back. Help us figure out how to do that. Become a Heliopath and help the SUN Foundation come up with the solutions to our problems. We’re interested in solutions at SUN. Solutions that will weather the building storm. Got any ideas you want to share?
The first person to guess what a “rock angle” is will get a bottle of SUN sauce…my fermented hot pepper sauce mailed to wherever they want it free of charge (and there are two possible answers I’ll accept).  Here’s a hint…it’s a word that my son Ayden Zen McCarty thought up.  Guess I should prepare to give away two bottles.
Here are some pictures of one of the ongoing SUN Foundation projects.  It’s a monumental hugelspiral.  The hugelspiral will be completed once we wheelbarrow 12 yards of topsoil on top of the 2 yards of mushroom compost, on top of about 6 yards of leaves, on top of white pine, poplar, oak, and maple sourced from the land.

 

Pit Composting

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on December 8, 2013

ninja fox
Discuss this article at the Doomsteading Table inside the Diner

Compost is about like anything else as an isolated subject.  It can be as simple as a stinky anaerobic mess in a pile, or as complicated and expensive as a mechanical device with aeration holes that spins on a timer.  Personally I’ve tended towards the former during my career as an aspiring green thumbist.  When I first started gardening in 2007, composting was the first piece of the gardening puzzle I gazed upon with Aspergian hyperfocus.  I read books written about composting and nothing else.  I studied composting…a process that occurs naturally, regardless of the books or the study on my part.  I made large piles of organic nitrogenous materials mixed with the more ubiquitous carbonaceous biomass, at the perfect ratio of 1/30…or 1/20…depending on your source, and I turned those piles with a pitchfork on a regular frequency.  I sprayed the piles with water to keep them at that perfect and mythical “wet as a wrung out sponge” dampness.  I even stuck pvc pipes with holes drilled in them down into the piles to increase oxygenation.  All of this effort was to achieve the perfect black gold to amend my intense garden beds with, and to do so as quickly as possible because that was the challenge.  For a while, I was composting kitchen scraps (and anything else of organic origin) with a sense of pride and achievement.  After I tackled the art of making perfect compost, my gaze was focused elsewhere in the gardening world, and I began my decent back towards anaerobic piles covered up with enough biomass to stunt the stinch.

After reading Gaia’s Garden, I was convinced that the compost pile was a waste of effort for myself.  You have to pile the kitchen scraps up somewhere, at a bare minimum, to create compost.  Then you have to apply that compost somewhere, at least for it to be of some use to you.  Last season I dumped a five gallon bucket full of kitchen scraps into a simple compost bin, and covered it up with straw or mulch or weeds, and repeated all season long.  I probably dumped 20 buckets onto a heap that stayed at about 3 feet in diameter and about 3 feet tall…all year.  The compost was literally being eaten by the soil life, and I imagine it became so rich in that place that nutrients began leaching into the sub soil, into the water table, and away.  While this situation is certainly better than sending all of that biomass to the landfill, it wasn’t much of a yield for me.  I ended up with one wheel barrow load of compost that I applied to one bed.  All of that effort just for one garden beds worth of amendments.  Granted, any chance to participate in any kind of garden alchemy, I’m game, but this seemed too…inefficient for my liking.  I’ve since converted from composting in piles above ground, to pit composting.

Pit composting is an idea I can get behind.  It’s simple, effective, and it minimizes work on my part which frees me up for other things (like telling my son no, and stop that, and put your wiener up).  It certainly isn’t a method for everyone.  Dig the hole deep enough, and cover it up, and even dogs will leave the mess alone.  You can literally compost anything you want (pending it’s actually compostable in the first place).  You won’t have to concern yourself with nitrogen/carbon ratios, moisture, or oxygen content.  No turning of a pile, no checking of temperatures with compost thermometers, no worrying about a pile bursting into flames, no worrying about unwanted volunteers sprouting up, no concern for attracting varmints, and no obnoxious smells to piss the neighbors off.

Dig a hole
Dump 5 gallon bucket full of kitchen scraps in hole
here you can see that I dug the hole on the down hill side of a berm
 
Allow local feral fauna to inspect and taste kitchen scrap slop, to determine it’s of no interest
 
Fill hole back in
 
Enjoy couch meditation in front of the idiot panel with your children, secure in the knowledge that you are saving kitchen scrap from the landfill, and increasing the fertility of your land by enlisting thousands of different life forms beneath ground to do your work for you.  If you listen closely, you can hear the earth worms thank you.

The SUN’s Youth Rebellion

Off the keyboard of Lucid Dreams

Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666
Friend us on Facebook

Published on Epiphany Now on October 23, 2013

SunWebGraphic3

Discuss this article at the Doomsteading Table inside the Diner

On my way to deliver the letter with the magic EIN number on it, I looked at my truck radio display and it read 3:33. My wife, whom was at home, looked at a digital clock at that same moment. The radio station 93.3, that I was listening to had decided to play Metallica’s “Sad But True” for the journey. I pulled into the post office and watched that letter go down the post office box memory hole as the last chord from that song rang out. That song from my youth, when I was angry about life. It was cleansing.
Days before my 32nd birthday I placed my resignation letter on my supervisor’s desk. This was more than just a resignation from the career I had worked for 6 years as a street medic for Piedmont EMS in the Upstate of South Carolina. This was my Resignation from the Matrix, which was picked up by Michael Ruppert and published on collapsenet as a free feature article for several months. It wasn’t particularly well written, because I wrote it one night half drunk as a journal entry, and then emailed it to Ruppert. Apparently he read it and liked it. I worked a one month notice because that’s what my supervisor asked of me. Her point was that I was going on vacation for two weeks on the next day, and so would I actually “work” a two week notice. Just days before resigning from my career I signed up to take part in a Permaculture class in Asheville NC called “Permaculture In Action.” It was a 10 day, hands on, gathering of like minded people spread over five weekends from May to August. We learned permaculture methods while implementing design from paper to the land. We didn’t create the designs, the instructors did. This was to be my new career. Permaculture. I resigned from the Matrix so that I could take permaculture seriously and devote all of my free time to it.
Starting in 2007, after reading James Howard Kunstler’s, The Long Emergency, and gettin’ edumacated to the concept of Peak Oil, I learned that infinite growth on a finite planet results in a particularly sordid predicament, and what was I going to do about it? Our civilization is completely dependent on a shrinking non-renewable resource. Look around you and notice all of the objects in your view. It’s a safe bet that every single one of those objects has been in a trailer on the interstate at some point on it’s likely over 2000 mile journey to you. It’s also another good bet that some part of all of those objects has been on a large container ship from China as well. The power you are using to participate with your computer, the cup of Joe you’re enjoying, and the food that keeps you alive, all have fossil fuel energy in common (even nuclear power is not possible without fossil fuel energy…at least as it’s currently practiced). We have built our modern day global civilization on a limited resource! There are a LOT of ramifications from this one easily understood fact that’s placed on us by the mandates of our physical reality.
Nearly five years after reading Kunstler’s eye opening book, I was in front of my supervisor turning in my resignation. Five years of rabidly searching for the answer to the question “what am I going to do about our infinite growth paradigm on a finite planet?” I had become a father, and now the ante was raised by several orders of magnitude. In a label, permaculture was what I found to be the answer. Permaculture actually addresses a future where there is no longer any affordable fossil energy. It realizes the precarious nature our free energy inheritance is leaving us in. Staying alive as a material being requires energy via food. All 8 billion of us stay alive right now because we still have the cheap energy to run the large tractors and combine harvesters, and to manufacture and use the petroleum based pesticides, fungicides, herbicides, and natural gas based fertilizers. Our agricultural land has become a moonscape of dead dirt that does nothing other than act as a chemical sponge. Nothing can live in the dirt except for the genetically modified organisms that we’ve created to withstand the chemical onslaught. The bulk of the calories that keep us alive, the wheat in our pasta and bread, the rice in our bowl, the soy bean baby formula in our dairy allergic newborns, and the hundreds of corn derived ingredients in the nutrition free high fructose petroleum sugar, and the animal meat that you eat are all possible because of our massive monocroped agriculture which requires petroleum energy to exist. Permaculture recognizes that this is not a sustainable arrangement.
Even the “organic” agriculture in this country is really just the same old “green revolution” shit dressed up in a delusional “we’re gonna save the Earth” drag. They spray chemicals just like their Monsanto dependent counterparts. Granted, it’s better than conventional agriculture, but it’s still not enough. It’s not “sustainable.” Monoculture agriculture, devoid of the cheap energy, collapses under the weight of it’s own gargantuan flesh. Permaculture provides the answers to this mess we’re in. I’m always weary of saying such a thing. That this or that provides ALL of the answers, but it’s true in this case…this is a too good to be true actually being true. Mark Shepard, the architect of “New Forest Farm” and author of Restoration Agriculture, provides proof to my claim. Perennial forest agriculture is a sustainable practice that is capable of withstanding a changing climate. It can provide us with the calories and nutrition that we need to live. The bulk of the calories in this system come from perennial tree nuts and animal products like milk, eggs, and meat. Petroleum inputs of any kind are not necessary (although they sure do help getting the system up and matured). My point is, Permaculture provides the solutions we need for the post-petroleum world that we’re standing on the brink of. I know of no other entity which can make this claim.
Given that you understand the predicament we are in as a global civilization, and given that you want to do something about it rather than nothing, what are you going to do? Permaculture can save us, but it can’t save us if we don’t practice it and implement it on our landscapes. I have two children now, Ayden Zen whom is 3 and Harper Tribann whom is 5 months. They are collectively the most beautiful thing I have ever done (aside from the Goddess I did to create them). Next to my family the most beauty I have ever created I have done in my backyard using permaculture principles. I have no doubt in my mind that given enough time I’ll be able to use this 1.6 acre lot (and hopefully the six acres that surround the Fox Den that are currently owned by in-laws) to keep my family thriving, alive and healthy, and to create a surplus to share with the surrounding community. I’ll be doing this using permaculture principles and strategies. Permaculture may not provide my family and I with the money we need to buy the things we buy in this current perpetual growth paradigm, but it will provide us with the food, medicine, raw natural materials, shelter, energy, and community that we need to live a life that is more than worthwhile, but exciting and full of meaning. With any luck it will keep my tribe out of any kind of government line.
I have concluded that there is no better way to spend my time than permaculture. I can practice it every day in the company of my family while creating beauty and regeneration. I believe that is possible. It’s already happening. My plan has been a two pronged plan. Practice permaculture and go to school for a nursing license in order to ensure my family will have access to the digibits that are required of us. The problem with this plan is that it lands me in another wealth care career that I will not be able to stomach. I burned out after six years on the meat wagon. But I didn’t burn out because of the death, disease, and destruction that comes with knowing the Reaper intimately. I loved that part of the job. I revealed in getting to know what the Grim Reaper actually looks like, and I even got in a few fights with him.
A quick anecdote from my real past:
 I managed to kick the Grim Reapers ass out of the back of my meat wagon once.  He made himself my business when someones grandma dropped dead while shopping at Walmart. She walked out of the hospital a couple of months later on her own two legs (well, she was wheeled out cause it was hospital policy, but she was able to walk). One time in six years I actually got a “save.” I burned out due to the bureaucratically generated bull shit that came from the Bull Shit Black Hole that feeds our wealth care system. We went from being taught that our job began and ended with “patient care” to being told that we were responsible for the happiness of our “customers.” That is how our rotten health care system looks at you now. You are no longer a patient to heal, but a customer to keep happy. That’s because the lawyers, medical insurance, and big international pharmaceutical companies dictate the nature of our wealth care. It’s ALL about making money. End of Subject.
I’m not plugging back into the Matrix. I’m going all rogue Permaculture on the Matrix’s ass. And at any rate I destroyed the ports on my physical body that allow me to plug back in, anarchy happened to my Matrix equipment. I’m a permanent inhabitant of what Jason Heppenstall calls Realandia. The place you come to inhabit when you take the red pill. People are too afraid to do anything meaningful about our meaningless perpetual growth paradigm. I’m no longer afraid. I was recently told that I’ve “got some balls” to do what I’m doing. Giving the Matrix the finger and all. I responded to that claim, “well, they stuck my ass in a solitary cell, and fed me nothing but bread and water, due to my protest about killing thousands of people via bombs from the jets launched off of the US Navy carrier I was splitting atoms on…so I guess I know what I’m up against.” Maybe I do have some balls, but I don’t frame it that way. I see it as that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. It is my responsibility to help in this transition that our species is going through. I have the tools and the mindset. I have the training. In truth, I have been bred for this my entire life. I have been searching for something worth my time ever since I can remember. Even EMS failed me, and I was able to find myself in a moral dilemma with being the help?!?! That speaks volumes to me.
This is not my resignation to the Matrix. I turned that in already. This is my “fuck you” to the Matrix. I’m not afraid of you. What I am afraid of is what you’re ensuring will happen if I, and many people like me, don’t do…something. If we don’t resist your stupid dictates than we will get what your incompetence has planned for us all. We will get a climate that won’t support human life, we’ll get more and more super bugs resistant to our drugs and chemicals, we’ll get nuclear contaminated radioactive material blanketing the globe (this has already happened…did you know that 14,000 deaths in America are attributed to the fall out from Fukishima Daiichi), we’ll get a completely collapsed fishery as our ocean loses the ability to buffer the carbon levels due to acidification thanks to our dependence on petrochemicals, well get more and more neutered and dysfunctional governments, well get less and less nutrition in our food, and we’ll get sicker and sicker as Big Pharma crams more and more frankenchemical fukitol derivatives down our collective throats. The Matrix has no answers for a world on the backside of perpetual growth.
I will not be acquiring a mursing license from the Ministry of Health. From this point forward I will be practicing permaculture principles. I’m now an agent for a non-profit corporation called the SUN Foundation (sustaining universal needs). The foundation is headquartered here, at my current residence in the Palookaville sector of Whoville. I have a gaggle of geniuses on my side over at the Doomstead Diner. Essentially the Diner has become a think tank. We talk about Realandia and what we’re going to do and are doing about it. The SUN Foundation is the result of more than a year of this think tank activity. It has fermented into the SUN and I am one of it’s agents. I believe that the SUN Foundation is a magnate that is attracting the most brilliant thinkers and doers available.
We have members in Australia (which is good due to it being in the southern hemisphere, away from the potentially 15,000 times more nuclear radiation than the atom bombs dropped on Japan, ending the second world war, that is damn near fated to happen with one of the next earth quakes, or tsunamis, that are happening at increasing frequencies around Japan), England, and all over the U.S. Our ideas and tactics will go viral and we will make the Matrix obsolete. We’re attempting to use the Matrix against itself by playing the game by their stupid rules. If you’re interested in learning more about the SUN Foundation (we’re still working on the website because we just got incorporated) you can go here and read till your hearts content. We’re gonna fix this mess one tree at a time. One durable and inexpensive shelter at a time. One Foxstead at a time.
But my Fox Den is still alive and thriving, and it’s beginning to multiply and grow. Like Gremlins, the more bull shit they get on us, the more we will become. The Fox Den is metamorphosing into a Foxstead which will in turn replicate into many Foxsteads. Or I’ll fuckin’ die trying. They’re gonna have to pry my cold dead fingers off of this Fox Den. I’ve got a Vixen and Kits to keep healthy and happy, and I’ve got a community to build that can withstand the post-petroleum future they are guaranteed to inherit. What are you gonna do about that? Dear reader!

Knarf plays the Doomer Blues

https://image.freepik.com/free-icon/musical-notes-symbols_318-29778.jpg

Support the Diner

Search the Diner

Surveys & Podcasts

NEW SURVEY

Renewable Energy

VISIT AND FOLLOW US ON DINER SOUNDCLOUD

" As a daily reader of all of the doomsday blogs, e.g. the Diner, Nature Bats Last, Zerohedge, Scribbler, etc… I must say that I most look forward to your “off the microphone” rants. Your analysis, insights, and conclusions are always logical, well supported, and clearly articulated – a trifecta not frequently achieved."- Joe D

Archives

Global Diners

View Full Diner Stats

Global Population Stats

Enter a Country Name for full Population & Demographic Statistics

Lake Mead Watch

http://si.wsj.net/public/resources/images/NA-BX686_LakeMe_G_20130816175615.jpg

loading

Inside the Diner

Scientist Kevin Anderson: Our Socio-Economic Paradigm Is Incompatible Wit...

Kevin Anderson & Hugh Hunt - [img width=70]http://www.funny-emoticons.com/files...

Feasts helped to transform egalitarian hunters and gatherers into the kinds of societies that ...

Which is One of the Reasons Why US Wealth and Income Inequalities Are At Historic LevelsCNN reports that “Nearly 25 million Mexicans are getting a pay raise next week. From $4.25 to $4.70 — a day. Mexican government and business leaders agreed on Tues...

Near the town of Lacolle, Quebec, just across the border in upstate New York, a cluster of blue-trimmed beige trailers has just arrived to provide temporary shelter for the unending wave of refugees, many of them from Haiti, who walk up on foot from Tr...

Recent Facebook Posts

Retweeted J. Dice (@jdice03): Only 5 people @FCC will decided the fate of #NetNeutralityِ To preserve Net Neutrality, 1 of these 3 men must..

5 hours ago

Retweeted Alex Andreou (@sturdyAlex): So many people are sharing this completely brilliant cartoon, so I thought you might like to know that..

6 hours ago

Fidel Castro Ruz. His Legacy Will Live Forever. Truth as A Revolutionary Instrument | Global Research - Centre for Research on Globalization

From Global Research:

7 hours ago

Fifty Truths about Fidel Castro | Global Research - Centre for Research on Globalization

From Global Research:

7 hours ago

For Some Victims, Reporting a Rape Can Bring Doubt, Abuse — and Even Prosecution — ProPublica

From Pro Publica-

7 hours ago

Diner Twitter feed

Knarf’s Knewz

Feasts helped to transform egalitarian hunters and [...]

Which is One of the Reasons Why US Wealth and Inco [...]

Mike Molson Hart, who sells toys on Amazon.com Inc [...]

For 300 million years faults showed no activity, a [...]

Diner Newz Feeds

  • Surly
  • Agelbert
  • Knarf
  • Golden Oxen
  • Frostbite Falls

     Doomstead Diner Daily 11/2... [...]

RE: INTO THE MAELSTROM: HOW THE HYPERCONNECTED AGE [...]

EXCLUSIVE: WHAT TRUMP REALLY TOLD KISLYAK AFTER CO [...]

Fascinating stuff. I get what the author is saying [...]

I first encountered McLuhan as an undergraduate in [...]

Dudgeon Offshore Wind Farm Powers Up in the UK [/c [...]

Quote from: Surly1 on November 23, 2017, 06:57:46 [...]

Feasts helped to transform egalitarian hunters and [...]

Which is One of the Reasons Why US Wealth and Inco [...]

Mike Molson Hart, who sells toys on Amazon.com Inc [...]

For 300 million years faults showed no activity, a [...]

Now there's a soul with some serious karma to [...]

Quote from: Golden Oxen on November 16, 2017, 11:4 [...]

Quote from: Golden Oxen on November 16, 2017, 11:0 [...]

Charles Manson, leader of the murderous Manson Fam [...]

Quote from: Surly1 on November 23, 2017, 06:57:46 [...]

Quote from: RE on November 23, 2017, 06:41:04 AMht [...]

http://grist.org/briefly/how-to-survive-thanksgivi [...]

https://nypost.com/2017/11/22/how-a-homeless-mans- [...]

Alternate Perspectives

  • Two Ice Floes
  • Jumping Jack Flash
  • From Filmers to Farmers

Taking a Pass on Gas – Wood Preferred - Part 2 By High Desert Homesteading   Part 1 of this article [...]

The Latest Sign of the Coming Apocalypse By Cognitive Dissonance   On occasion Mrs. Cog accuses me o [...]

Taking a Pass on Gas – Wood Preferred By High Desert Homesteading   We recently bought a 22 year old [...]

Small Town Mountain Living by Cognitive Dissonance   I'm a small town boy. Born and bred small [...]

An Act of Pure Evil By Cognitive Dissonance   This is being written the day after the mass shooting [...]

Event Update For 2017-11-22http://jumpingjackflashhypothesis.blogspot.com/2012/02/jumping-jack-flash-hypothesis-its-gas.html Th [...]

Event Update For 2017-11-21http://jumpingjackflashhypothesis.blogspot.com/2012/02/jumping-jack-flash-hypothesis-its-gas.html Th [...]

Event Update For 2017-11-20http://jumpingjackflashhypothesis.blogspot.com/2012/02/jumping-jack-flash-hypothesis-its-gas.html Th [...]

Event Update For 2017-11-19http://jumpingjackflashhypothesis.blogspot.com/2012/02/jumping-jack-flash-hypothesis-its-gas.html Th [...]

Event Update For 2017-11-18http://jumpingjackflashhypothesis.blogspot.com/2012/02/jumping-jack-flash-hypothesis-its-gas.html Th [...]

From Filmers to Farmers is re-launched on the astounding open source blogging platform Ghost! [...]

The blogging scene is admittedly atrocious. Is there really no option for a collapse blogger to turn [...]

Sure, the Svalbard Global Seed Vault is out to conserve our agricultural diversity, but who exactly [...]

Daily Doom Photo

man-watching-tv

Sustainability

  • Peak Surfer
  • SUN
  • Transition Voice

The Diamond Cutter at Apache Pass, Part 3: Vajracchedikā Prajñāpāramitā"The things that are seen are temporal; the things that are unseen are eternal. — Saul of Tarsi [...]

The Diamond Cutter at Apache Pass, Part 2: Passage to India"Blindfolded, he spoke eloquently on the nature of emptiness."This is the second installme [...]

The Diamond Cutter at Apache Pass, Part 1: Cut the Tent"When we move, or we consume foods from outside our region, we are thwarting adaptation. Our ep [...]

Acceleration"We need to get to above-the-line climate solutions with the same urgency as beach communities [...]

Greening Apocalypse California"At some point the marble will fall into a warmer domain of equilibrium."This is one of th [...]

The folks at Windward have been doing great work at living sustainably for many years now.  Part of [...]

 The Daily SUN☼ Building a Better Tomorrow by Sustaining Universal Needs April 3, 2017 Powering Down [...]

Off the keyboard of Bob Montgomery Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666 Friend us on Facebook Publishe [...]

Visit SUN on Facebook Here [...]

Americans are good on the "thoughts and prayers" thing. Also not so bad about digging in f [...]

In the echo-sphere of political punditry consensus forms rapidly, gels, and then, in short order…cal [...]

Discussions with figures from Noam Chomsky and Peter Senge to Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama off [...]

Lefty Greenies have some laudable ideas. Why is it then that they don't bother to really build [...]

Democracy and politics would be messy business even if all participants were saints. But America doe [...]

Top Commentariats

  • Our Finite World
  • Economic Undertow

I didn't notice that research on the latest Bloomberg article on Tesla trucks... strange... So [...]

Thanks for the comments, I sent my brother one of your articles a few months ago with that reference [...]

The color part of the black and white documentary is interesting in that it features the Czechoslova [...]

The political systems must continue existing... Where at least a part of that oversupply of lawyers [...]

as ive said many times---if rockefeller had printed OIL KILLS PLANETS on every tanker and fuel pump- [...]

Keeping Up Appearances now UP on the Diner Blog. Sporting a brand spanking newly designed Triangle o [...]

If what is going to happen is that the entirety of the rest of the world is going to collapse first [...]

Jim Rickards is saying that every time that the Chinese devalue their currency that there is a drop [...]

I suspect that the "doom/collapse" that we all anticipated, dare I say hoped for, was the [...]

"All we doomers have is coming on a decade of following internet blogs, and going to our dead e [...]

RE Economics

Going Cashless

Off the keyboard of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Simplifying the Final Countdown

Off the keyboard of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Bond Market Collapse and the Banning of Cash

Off the microphone of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Do Central Bankers Recognize there is NO GROWTH?

Discuss this article @ the ECONOMICS TABLE inside the...

Singularity of the Dollar

Off the Keyboard of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Kurrency Kollapse: To Print or Not To Print?

Off the microphone of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

SWISSIE CAPITULATION!

Off the microphone of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Of Heat Sinks & Debt Sinks: A Thermodynamic View of Money

Off the keyboard of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Merry Doomy Christmas

Off the keyboard of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Peak Customers: The Final Liquidation Sale

Off the keyboard of RE Follow us on Twitter @doomstead666...

Collapse Fiction

Useful Links

Technical Journals