Friday, June 26, 2020

Vagabond Mariners

1984 Gulf 32 Pilot House Sailboat
Synopsis of Vagabond Mariners
Upcoming Book No. 9

      This is the story of how a creatively-thinking, would-be mariner vagabond, Wyman Wicket, captures the attention of Jack Suss, a Freeman investor/entrepreneur, and how real American liberty goes from the drawing board to a geo-spatial demonstration of its reality. A third main character, the winsome Rev. Charles Gumpus, interposes a supernatural element into the joint project.
      Wicket has been stewing on some very innovative concepts and inventive marine technology that revolve around his desire to drop out and just float around the world in a sailboat. When he comes into a small inheritance he starts planning to do just that. During his preparatory phase he makes contact with Fluxom, a nautical design-build company that has taken a keen interest in his patented, creative design ideas:

  1. deep-sea trading platforms
  2. sea-floor habitation modules
  3. a submersible sailboat w/hook-up capacity
       Communications between Wicket and Fluxom intensify. Prototypes are being built. All the while the company methodically plots to steal his patents and co-opt them. (The company is in-deep with intelligence agents working for certain globalist interests.)  
      Cut to the second character, Jack Suss, wealthy entrepreneur-turned-political thinker. He’s actually a savvy private law Freeman[1]. He longs to find a mechanism that can illustrate this private law-truth and, by so doing, help to resurrect it so that it can be more commonly understood by the public-at-large. By happenstance he learns of Wicket’s project. He immediately sees its value as just such a mechanism—a parallel demonstrative analogue that showcases the Freeman stance with respect to liberty—and Suss can infuse the capital to fund Wicket’s vision.
      After some intense wrangling, Suss manages to obtain a majority share interest in Fluxom. Arrangements are soon made for Jack to meet Wyman at a certain port-of-call. They instantly hit it off and a partnership is born—not a legal partnership so much as an esprit de corps they share toward liberty, with its attendant freedom to be left alone.
      Cut to Rev. Gumpus, a nosy-yet-big-hearted “Friar Tuck”-like character. Previously, he had made the acquaintance of Suss in their “Odd Fellows Church,”[2] a Christian Church dedicated simply to Bible study, fasting, and prayer. Rev. Gumpus is/was a Catholic priest who woke up to the serious corruption and vagaries of the Roman Church—and once “red-pilled” he walks a fine line between his priestly duties and living the gospels of Jesus.
      Gumpus had latched onto Suss because he sensed “some semblance of virtue in his heart and valor in his soul”; Suss finds Gumpus good-natured but a bit overbearing, polemic and irritating—yet at the same time (and paradoxically) he values Gumpus for these very same qualities. Besides which, they share a wee fondness for the more grog-like spirits.
      Suss brings Gumpus into his confidence concerning Wicket’s project. Rev. Gumpus at once finds it ingenious and he insists upon meeting this intrepid Wicket fellow. When he does, Wicket too senses an endearing charm, a like-minded soul, and the three of them soon form a loose alliance, “a confederation of dunces,” some might say. And as the sea-building quietly proceeds, Wicket sets sail, and the trio gradually establishes their “reverse beachhead.”   
      Along the way they encounter resistance, mostly from military intelligence operatives and government agents working for the Vatican and the usual globalist suspects. But in the end they manage to pull-off their cockamamie scheme and have the last laugh.         

Wyman Wicket: Background and Initial Start-up
      Once upon a time, Wyman Wicket had done a stint as a merchant marine. This was the sum and substance of his nautical experience. He never actually did any sailing. He wouldn’t know the difference between a halyard and a hawser, or, e.g., if he was told to check the “head-sail” (and, as a hint, further directed to look for “jibs and staysails set between the bowsprit and the fore”) it would all mean diddly-squat to him.
      Still, he one day plans to drop out of society to become a devoted “vagabond mariner.” In fact, that is the working title of the journal he plans to keep.
      When Wicket gets an inheritance from a dead uncle, he buys a 30 ft. sailboat, takes a basic seamanship course, and gets ready to set sail. But he keeps getting delayed. Fluxom, a design-build company he had connected up with, keeps him busy with incessant questions and requirements. Wicket wishes and prays that he had instead hooked up with some visionary libertarian businessman/builder about his deep sea trading platforms, sea-floor habitation modules, and submersible sailboat concepts. (Little does he know, he’s about to fish-his-wish—and his prayers are soon to be answered when Jack Suss comes into the picture.)
      Deciding to escape from Fluxom’s nagging building demands, Wicket gets underway; he has decided to more-or-less re-create Hal Roth’s 1972 circumnavigation of the Pacific Ocean (together with his wife) entitled Two on a Big Ocean. This will be his trial run as a vagabond mariner adrift upon the freedom and the fury of the sea.
      On a wing and a prayer he starts off by following the inter-coastal waterway down to the Gulf of Mexico and on into the Caribbean. Misadventures befall him until he chances to meet up with an old salt, Sam Whenty, on an island stop-over in Cozumel. Sam’s become a down-on-his-luck gambler/wastrel who’s been holed up on this island for a year or two—a Walter-Brennan-like character, as lovable as he is wily. They bond and soon Wyman sets sail with a seasoned, seafaring pilot and navigator aboard.
      Throughout this maiden voyage, he stays in contact with Fluxom. By the time they are approaching the Panama Canal Wyman begins detecting a more favorable tone in their communiques. This has come about due to the intervention of Suss in Fluxom. The plot thickens as Suss induces Wicket to weigh anchor at Isla del Rey, just outside the south-western mouth of the Canal, and proposes to meet with him there.
      Wyman and Sam go through the Panama Canal, intending to sail on a westerly heading toward the Marquesas, the northern-most islands of French Polynesia. But first they make a pit stop where they first encounter Wicket’s curious patron.

Wyman Wicket’s Journal
      In Wicket’s early research into the lives of mariners, he noticed that those who choose to go to sea as a serious endeavor—to actually live on board their boats—come in a range of flavors and varieties but ultimately fall into three main categories:

            Dreamers: pure romantics, delusionary escapees, escapee lovers of the natural world
            Realists: dedicated mariners who believe that self-sufficiency makes the man; that the sea, as both mistress and master, is an indifferent force of nature (begging questions concerning their sanity and social fitness); some such mariners channel a natural survival inclination by carrying goods for trade in order to pay for needed supplies to continue on and have a tendency to avoid participation in matters of allegiance to governments (viz., bureaucratic officials.) Some refer to this as the “Phoenician model.”
            Opportunists: sportsmen, wealthy bohemian elitists, pirates (freebooters), and privateers (state-sponsored mercenaries)

      Wicket next explores the life of any vagabond mariner, which he sees as being a life that at once rejects society’s many rules and regulations while at the same time depends upon society’s production of goods and services for his existence. Thus, the irony: the lives of vagabond mariners are contingent upon society continuing to function. It is a sort of resentful dependency upon supply, requiring them to live “somewhere in-between”.[3]
      In order to wean dedicated vagabond mariners from their land-dependency needs, Wicket then envisions deep-sea-based trading platforms that serve as re-supply depots.[4] Like having a space station in deep space or a tanker aircraft for in-flight refueling, these way-stations could provide a convenient service for tramp mariners; they would relieve a boat’s skipper from having to make special trips to land-based ports in order to get re-supplied—while also avoiding the often laborious and time-consuming task of dealing with immigration and customs bureaucracy hassles (not to mention falling prey to “state surveillance”).
      The obvious next step in Wicket’s mind would then be to coordinate with some visionary libertarian businessman/builder in order to design and build his platforms or safe harbors, unhitched from any would-be controlling kleptocracy. These deep-sea-platforms would be discrete economic and lego-political entities that enjoy their own de facto internal sovereignty of extraterritoriality; in other words, no muss, no fuss—non-aligned free-trading zones.
      As if his idea for floating, deep sea trading platforms was not novel enough, Wicket also proposes a second vision, this one for undersea mariners: sea-floor habitation modules.
      Sea-floor habitation modules could only be accessed by submersible craft. Such craft would be outfitted with a special docking mechanism, allowing a craft to link onto an interlocking door built into the habitation module on the sea floor. This could establish a passageway which would allow the mariner to pass freely from the submersible into the module; the locked door connection also holds the submersible fast to the module, much the same as a space craft locks onto a space station.
      These sea-floor habitation modules can be used as private trading/re-stocking points, as opposed to the public deep-sea trading platforms.
      Additionally, these modules can be seen as a reconstituted form of the isolation caves of yore. Caves, like remote deserts, are areas of retreat located in inhospitable places traditionally sought by those wishing to seclude themselves wherein one contemplates eternity and meditatively communes with the depths of oneself, one’s soul, in an unfettered interior journeying. Moreover, a sea-floor module is a place that is even more inaccessible while the occupation within can be as daunting and unnerving as occupying a cave (or being in a remote desert).
      And so, according to Wicket, in order to be the compleat vagabond mariner, one would need a dual-purpose craft that can act as both sailing vessel and submarine. Again, Wicket directs interested parties to coordinate with visionary libertarian businessmen/builders to assemble his submersible sailboat. The obvious advantage of having such a hybrid craft is that it can simply submerge to avoid and wait-out inclement weather—gale winds, rain, and waves.

      What immediately comes to Wicket’s mind are USOs (Unidentified Submerged Objects). However, for Wicket, crafts capable of flying through the air and water (and, presumably, outer space) would be better described as Unidentified Submersible Objects. And for Wicket, a craft that can navigate in all possible environs: the water’s surface, the water’s sub-surface, the air and outer space, would be the Optimal Travel Machine (OTM)—a liberty vehicle extraordinaire, allowing the occupant to pursue and preserve absolute independence via absolute freedom of movement—physical movement that is.

The Ruminations of Jack Suss
Jack Suss self-styles himself as a 21st Century Schizoid Man.

The prescient, predictive-programming of the 1969 tune by King Crimson, 21st Century Schizoid Man, is finally being fulfilled in the year 2020.

There is an ironic political paradox. It’s bound up in socio-cultural baggage. It’s weird and goes something like this:

Let’s start with the current news: the rioting peaceful protesters. They are agitators, leftists—communists, though calling themselves "socialists"—who are leading a mass of younger, educationally brainwashed, and just generally libtard  masses.

What are they fighting against? Hold that thought.

How many out there have any notion about the difference between public law versus private law?—that the United States is a corporate entity caused by the machinations of the FDR administration bankrupting the country in 1933?—that common law courts are dead and that (preposterous as it sounds) you are really a straw man subject to admiralty law? That the U.S. Constitution is, de facto, in abeyance?—that the globalist British hegemony, UN/NWO/Soros-Rockefeller cancers, the Federal Reserve cabal and its unlawful IRS collection agency have enslaved the People?—that the so-called Patriot Act is nothing of the sort?
(Read, e.g.,You Know Something is Wrong When...: An American Affidavit of Probable Cause, Anna Maria Riezinger, James Clinton Belcher (2015); One Freeman’s War: In the Second American Revolution, Mark Emery (2015); make your first stop for daily news)
—The facts in the foregoing paragraph are held to be true by genuine American patriots.

What are they fighting against?

They are fighting for the same thing that the commie leftists are fighting for: to bring down the corrupt, oppressive, false-fake-and-phony System.

Surprised? Most anyone would be.


The “why” revolves around the nature of what should replace that corrupt System: lefties want anything-goes fasco-communism; patriots want their constitutional republic restored, along with time-tested, traditional values.

Both are entangled in a corporatized, technocratic, digital milieu quickly coming under AI surveillance that confounds most people’s ability to sort things out; and both sides are blinded by disinformation from the System and the controlled opposition to the System that caters willingly to each side.

The result? You guessed it: 21st Century Schizoid Man.


The mantra insisted upon from kneelers-to-the-hoodlum-agitators is: “Revolution is the solution, not voting”
—Voting, however, does work but only when:
1. when the candidates are not cardboard cut-outs put up by vested lobbying/party interests;
2. when elections are conducted without the fraud of outdated and unreliable voter rolls, ballot harvesting from early and mail-in voting; rigged electronic voting machines, and;
3. we’ve returned our Nation to the true foundations of our constitutional republic

Suss’s mantra to all the People is:
“Resolution is the solution, then voting”
That is, the true patriot solution is to resolve by dissolving the corporate fiction version of America (including the Senior Executive Service and covert British intrusion via its Pilgrims Society and other tendrils of control) and instituting sound election processes*.

* clean up voter rolls, require proper voter ID, paper ballots only, in-person voting with absentee ballots only for the elderly (over 65), disabled and expatriates; concurrently—effectively reform money/contributions into political coffers from lobbyists/NGOs and foundations and enact some sort of term limits control on Congress, e.g., after serving one term a Congressman would be prohibited from running again until another’s term for that same seat has run its course; reduce/limit control of parties over candidates

All of this conventional conservative wisdom is just so much political tail-chasing and suddenly pales upon hearing of Wyman Wicket’s projects. A light bulb goes on in the mind of Suss as he compares Wicket’s physical spaces to subtler aspects of being.

Geo-spatial analogues to reality/freedom are scrutinized:   

Landè normative reality = herd freedom
Water surfaceè alternate reality = individualized freedom
Underwaterè esoteric reality = spiritual freedom
Deep spaceè extraterrestrial reality = transit meta-freedom     
            - includes being able to pass-through, i.e., navigate
              through “solid matter”

Suss instantly realizes that “land thinking” has become as inordinately dull as the minds of its land dwellers. And the long-touted, dry-sounding reformations advocated by conservatives and solutions offered by Freemen sovereigns such as himself are just that: they have become those trite and tedious answers that are dutifully ignored by a populace too worn and weary from their conditioning and monotonous existence to really give a shit.
       His grand hope is to capture the imagination of the public-at-large via Wicket’s mind-bending marine technology and parlay that into a model for understanding the originary underpinnings of the Republic. Specifically, this is the private law that was instituted by the Founding Fathers to safeguard the individual liberties of the People. This law is a far cry from today’s “judicial System,” which has removed the remedies at law meant to be freely accessed and available to them as the true sovereigns of the Republic.     

First Meeting
      At Isla del Rey they first meet at the boat, then retreat inland to a simple outdoor restaurant. Soon the lads exchange their respective positions with respect to what they quickly come to understand is a shared passion for being free and securing one’s liberty. (Sam sort of hovers about.)
      Though Wicket comes from a simple working background and Suss comes from the creatively-tepid business world, each is a deep thinker. They are natural philosophers. Each wishes to extend his notion of freedom and liberty to all as that which is the common possession of humanity—unalienable rights endowed by God the Creator.
      Their sensibilities of God, soul and spirit, are essentially populist ones steeped in tradition and time-tested values. This is, of course, as it should be; one’s spiritual nature is part and parcel of one’s unique sovereignty of being, not to be separated out and projected onto the domain of experts, i.e., a priest class. And yet, from time immemorial, certain individuals in society—whether shamans or priests—have come to be recognized as special avatars of spiritual understanding, worthy of being consulted for comfort and guidance.
      [Enter Rev. Gumpus. See below.]
      The more they talk, the more they have to discuss, and the initial meeting stretches on for two more days. Subtler overlays become evident as the two men discuss the project in greater depth. A main point arises concerning two distinct spheres of “beingness.” These opposites, might be depicted in a variety of ways: action vs. non-action; movement vs. stasis; nomadism vs. sedentarism; exploration vs. parochialism; curiosity vs. indifference; physical activity vs. physical inactivity; engagement vs. apathy; self-reliance vs. dependency. Here, their purpose is to show that the former has more advantages over the latter.
      However, this “dichotomy of opposites” soon gives way to a “synergy of relatedness.” Strict dichotomies are false delineations as far as laying out a course of conduct human beings should adopt. As opposites, each represents an extreme that cannot be followed in isolation from the other. A balance between the two is not only needed but is necessary and optimal. Apparent opposites (or two-spheres-of-beingness) must be apprehended for what they really are: polar complementarities.
     Whereas opposites negate each other, polar complementarities complete each other. That is, otherwise antithetical states of being (e.g., physical activity vs. physical inactivity) can and should usefully work together, viz., one needs to move but also needs to rest. Thus, an individual has an innate drive to balance-out what otherwise appear to be seeming opposites so as to optimize the potential benefits of each in a synergy of both.

      Sam Whenty, at first hanging around in the background, begins getting ever closer and listening in. He finds himself becoming enamored with their big ideas. Before long he makes himself available to assist as needed. Despite his limitations and faults, Sam feels somehow redeemed by keeping company with these gents. This interlude cements his loyalty and dedication to his captain, Wyman Wicket, while holding this Jack Suss in high regard.

      Now, the Rev. Charles Gumpus (known as Fr. Charlie by his close friends) is a bigger-than-life character more akin to some noted, early 20th century padres. For example, one might say that Gumpus has the goodness of a Fr. Flanagan (of Boystown fame), with the acerbic good sense of a tough Fr. Coughlin, yesteryear’s radio preacher, topped off by the understated star quality of a Fr. O’Malley (from that old film, The Bells of St. Mary’s, starring Bing Crosby). But his sizable girth and jovial manner remind most of Friar Tuck, the fat abbot in Robin Hood’s Band of Merry Men.
      Gumpus comes along with Suss on the second meet-up with Wicket, which occurs in the early summer, about a year after their first meeting. (By this time, Wyman and Sam have sailed the entire length of the South Pacific archipelago and then some, stopping in at, e.g., the Society Islands, the southern Cook Islands; on to Samoa, past the Gilbert, Marshall and Caroline Islands; and then to Guam, from which they head to Japan.) They rendezvous at Ogijima Island in the Seto Inland Sea off the coast of Shikoku Island, Japan, part of the Kagawa prefecture.
      Of course Sam Whenty also tags along. Together they all duck out of the sultry mid-day heat for an extended lunch in a charming, traditional-style restaurant in the harbor town.
      Tremendous excitement is in the air as hands are shaken and sea stories of their voyage spill forth. Peppered in with general news are stories of intrigue at Fluxom, mingled with the design-build techno-marine advances being made on Wicket’s original concepts.
      It’s terribly exciting to be a part of this group, thought Gumpus. These men are doers, by golly—giants of intellect, nautical know-how, and soulful adventure!
      By-and-by the conversation drifts to the more subtle realms. Talk begins centering on the metaphorical parallels between the concrete constructions of the sea hideaways knocking up against the liberty bell dinging in its benefactor’s ears. For Suss, a macro-demonstration of political liberty is key; Wicket’s concerns center more on establishing a model of liberty that enables the flourishing of personal autonomy in order for an individual to “know one’s self.”
      Wicket has visions of his sea-floor modules also serving as meditation chambers or isolation tanks—replacing the caves and remote deserts of yore—wherein a person communes in selfless, non-duality of “not-being.” Then he met the Rev. Gumpus.
      Rev. Gumpus proposes a third “sphere of beingness” to the beingness-of-doing and the beingness-of-resting—the beingness-of-adoration. For him, this third sphere is the essential part of every sentient being; it recognizes the immense majesty of God and our humble place in Creation. At the same time it acknowledges the old saw:
There is no religion that is not Christianity.[5]
Rev. Gumpus proceeds to hold court at the luncheon for some few minutes, unpacking his peculiar brand of catholic Christianity. His listeners, knowing he is an ordained Catholic priest, experience an awkward dissonance between the intriguing, Gumpian perspective they are hearing and his role as a robed cleric representing a corrupt, occult, and controlling Roman Church. Indeed, the cognitive dissonance goes deeper—it is much more personal; these are free men, men holding liberty and free-thinking in the highest esteem. This Rev. Gumpus stymied them as he spoke of humbling oneself before the Lord by submitting to the yoke of worshipful adoration. After all, are we not self-reliant, sovereign men?
      Strange thoughts surface. For example, Sam’s mind conjures up the words of an old ‘60s comic book hipster: “Then burn with your dream drug priest, I bow to no one!”
      Suss knows his old friend from their Church of odd fellows and he knows well his friend’s outlier stance. And yet each time Gumpus guides the conversation back to the more traditional Godhead he felt a slight freakish shiver go up his spine.
      Old, hard-boiled Wicket, too, felt a near-physical wincing sensation upon hearing this gimmee-that-old-time-religion-seeming stump speech. Still, he listened, enthralled, in spite of himself.
      Somehow Gumpus spoke his truth as one-of-them and it could not, on that account, be dismissed so easily. His words worked quickly on all of their minds, arousing sympathy, or rather, an empathetic love. Gumpus is not a wordy man; he is direct and his words convey strength, vigor, meaning. He said just enough and no more. And he spoke with such a surety of conviction, couched in the red pill vernacular so familiar to them, that they could hardly help wanting to rush toward embracing this beingness-of-adoration sphere.
      There is one other piece of the puzzle-of-being that Rev. Gumpus shares with his new companions. When Wicket mentioned the USOs this dredges up the "ET file" he carries around in his head, some of which was culled from sources close to the Vatican, and some of which he drudged up himself deep from within the muck-of-unknowing. On this very first meet-up Gumpus begins to divulge some intriguing believe-it-or-not facts relating to extraterrestrials. Due to some credible, well-placed contacts (and his own sleuthing) he has been privy to some beyond-top-secret intel on visitors from outside our ken (or is it “kin”?—more details to follow.)       
On They Trudge…OR…Sailing Thru the Sludge    
      The duo is soon on the return side of their Hal Roth circumnavigation-of-the-Pacific re-enactment. They sail on to a few more pit-stops in Japan, before continuing on to chillier climes across the Bering Sea, stopping at various Aleutian Islands; then, onto the Queen Charlotte Islands off the coast of Canada. Finally, they set their sights on San Francisco (the Roth's original jumping-off point and return port).
      Suss, in the meantime, has been putting the word out on Wicket’s projects and tying them by analogy into his Freeman private law discourses. Subsequently, he begins getting public speaking engagements wherein he waxes eloquently on these subjects near and dear to his heart:

     What is liberty?
     What is a conservative?—a traditionalist? What’s wrong with each designation: neither fully accounts for eccentrics who wander off the normative understanding of either term.
     He names names of currently in-vogue CINOs (Conservatives In Name Only) and calls them out for their two-faced behaviors.
     He chastises corporate interests who bend to mindless social pressure because they fear the mob; like the true institutional cowards that all globalists are, corporatists too know they are safe only so long as The People don’t get wind of their betrayals.

      All the publicity is working the magic that Suss had predicted: there is a groundswell of interest in private law from many quarters as never before, due to the Wicket-Whenty “publicity stunt.” The success, however, is a double-edged sword; those with vested interests in preserving that sham known as “public law” are now on high alert and scheming to put an end to this marine escapade.
      Wyman and Sam tie up in SF. Sam gets drunk. Wyman looks after him. The next day, a mob of illegal alien/leftist thug/Antifa opportunist types try to stir up trouble. Sam still feels punchy from the night before. He chides them. They are provoked and they attack. Wyman and Sam both put up a valorous defense, but one hoodlum pulls a gun. Sam sees what’s happening. He steps in front of Wyman and takes a slug for him. The cowards then run away.
      Wyman applies first aid, can’t get an ambulance, and decides to carry Sam to the emergency room on his back, three blocks away. Sam survives (to fight another day).
      In the meantime, Wyman discovers from Suss that his marine technology patents have been stolen. Suss takes up Wyman’s cause and Sam, too, supports his captain. Wyman is sickened over the theft of his patents by back-stabbing former associates now defending against a lawsuit initiated by Suss. He longs to get away, forget all of this land-dweller nonsense, and once more breathe the salt air of the open sea.
      As soon as Sam gets his sea legs back, off they go, reversing course down the west coast of California, past Baja and Central America, and back through the Panama Canal. They have set a new course for Morocco, North Africa.
      On the way, Wyman tells the story of long-suffering Africas (hunted by slave traders, brutalized by Britain, Dutch, and Germans battling it out for colonial rights and privileges, guinea pigs for vaccines); it is all set out in Wicket’s journal as they proceed sluggishly through the horse latitudes. (Wicket compares this becalmed area to his lawsuit.)
        Wicket keeps Suss informed of his latest destination. Suss is intrigued because he has been eyeing a visit to the Souss Valley in Morocco for some time. He proposes a third remote meeting (which also serves as an excuse to hopefully visit the valley of his namesake).
      Back on the home front, their legal case threatens to become yet another “Bleak House” miasma, that tangled legal web of skullduggery described so well by Charles Dickens. Suss soon fires his “counsel” which he never wanted to hire in the first place, but for the complexities of patent law. Instead, he takes on the case himself, assisted by some outside adviser-Freemen. After some intense wrangling a quick resolution seems at-hand. Suddenly, even more suddenly than expected, “Suss's private law team” triumphs!
      Unfortunately, however, Wicket won’t live long enough to savor the victory because another fight ensues—this time it’s a mob of ignorant, traditionalist ass-hats in the back streets of Agadir, Morocco, who attack them with knives for simply not being Muslims (a set-up). Wicket is mortally wounded; Sam, again seriously injured, barely escapes with his life.
      Before long Suss arrives on the scene with Rev. Gumpus in tow. The latter arranges for Wyman Wicket to be laid to rest in a cemetery located at one of the last surviving Christian monasteries in Morocco. From his hospital bed Sam brings attention to Wyman’s papers, secured in a water proof container aboard the boat. He tells his compatriots that they should inspect them—that he recalls Wyman speaking about a Last Will and Testament. When they do, they discover that Wyman has left everything, even his boat, to both Suss and Whenty, or to the survivor of either of them, “to continue the vagrant marine tromping where-so-ever the winds may direct you.”
      Suss retrieves the Wicket sailboat, and gathers up Sam, with the help of Gumpus. Together they embark on an ambitious sail southward, past the Canary Islands and on around the huge hump of West Africa, and then southeasterly to the island country of São Tomé and Príncipe, officially the Democratic Republic of São Tomé and Príncipe, in the Gulf of Guinea, off the western equatorial coast of Central Africa. It consists of two archipelagos around the two main islands of São Tomé and Príncipe, about 87 miles apart and about 155 and 140 miles off the northwestern coast of Gabon.
      During the voyage the good “Friar Tuck” nurtures Sam back to health. Gumpus considers himself a healer-of-sorts who just happens to have a bag of medico-tricks up his sleeve, and Sam springs back to fighting form in no time. In his spare moments, Suss pores over Wicket’s journal, discovering more, lesser known facts, crumbs and morsels about Africa's dark past and troubled present.

Future Considerations
      All hail and fit, the crew arrives at São Tomé’s small harbor, looking forward to enjoying a leisurely sit-down meal while they figure out their next move.
      Even before the conclusion of the lawsuit, the bad seeds had been promptly rooted out of Fluxom. The actual building of the first deep-sea platform had been ongoing and is nearing completion. It is located at 6º south latitude and 110º west longitude, about halfway between the Marquesas and the Galapagos Islands on a direct, long-established sea route through the Pacific from Aukland, on the north island of New Zealand, to Panama.
      Here, the company is experimenting with the sea-floor modules. The first was pre-fabricated and shipped there. But Fluxom has built a fully mechanized factory shop within the platform where they intend to proceed with further construction of the modules, adapting their designs as may be needed.
      One is prone to immediately dismiss such sea floor modules as the fantasy-stuff of science fiction. Why?—because of the crushing water pressure that would exist on the sea floor in excess of 100 feet below the surface. As a rule of thumb, the pressure increases by one atmosphere for every 32.8 feet of descent.
      The most advanced submarine (little more than a “pressure sphere”) is the Trieste, a U.S. Navy two-man bathyscape. With its 5” thick hulls of steel it reached a depth of 35,813 feet (almost 6.8 miles down)—not quite to the bottom of the deepest of the deep in the Marianas Trench—while withstanding water pressure of more than 1,000 atmospheres. 
     One nuclear-powered Russian military sub, K-278 Komsomolets, made of titanium, is designed to be able to reach a depth of 4,265 feet (.8 miles).
      The best American nuclear submarines, of the Seawolf class, have an estimated crush depth of about 2400 feet (.45 miles deep) The Seawolf submarines are constructed of a high grade steel called HY-100, capable of withstanding 100 atmospheres of pressure.
      The ocean deep is just that: deep. The pressure down there does funny things to humans,
      Similarly, the submersible sailboat, though it has moved from the drawing board to the construction phase, suffers from a similar disability. Partly pre-assembled ashore it too was shipped to the platform for further testing and refinements. But as most sailboat owners know, it is difficult enough to ensure that their vessels are leak-proof while sailing on the water’s surface. Hybrid vessels that must be absolutely leak-proof underwater—and at relatively deep depths—pose incredibly complex, seemingly impossible, techno-challenges.   
      However, one must, at the same time, stay open to the possibility of a science and technology that is “beyond the textbooks”—that draws on future technology, e.g., technology and techniques as are used in the secret space program. This is not to say that Suss is particularly privy to such information, but he does lay claim to a certain degree of know-how on new technology, which in turn is based upon a new, more advanced physics. (As with Rev. Gumpus’s mastery of novel medical arts, Jack Suss, too, is ahead of the power curve in esoteric techno-realms that align with his interests.)  
      In any event, once the three men are fully apprised of their situation and the future of the three-pronged project, they toast their late visionary mate, Wyman Wicket. They generally agree that when they depart their present location, they’ll need to aim for the new platform as their intended destination. They qualify this, however, by reminding themselves that true vagabond mariners are on their own timetable.
      With this, they next toast Sam Whenty, their resilient, indefatigable pilot/navigator, without whom even Wicket would likely have lost his way on his maiden voyage and they, themselves, would otherwise have been stymied in their efforts to sail on from Morocco.
      Sam is humbled and overcome with emotion as he recalls his odyssey over the past few years. He never expected that his life, wasting away as it was, to have taken the serendipitous turn that it has. He honors the memory of his late, tried-and-true friend, Wyman Wicket, and extends his warm thanks to Suss and Gumpus for their continued belief in him and their recognition of his considerable nautical skills.
      The book closes with their vowing to see Wicket’s dream become an established reality in today’s world—one that furthers the cause célèbre of liberty made tangible via those sailors who dare to go vagabonding on the sea.

      This book is designed to flesh out the true nature of liberty, conservatism, and visionary capitalism by a background showing of how these very sound qualities have been denigrated, compromised, and co-opted.
      It contrasts two mindless groups who are in opposition: spoiled, mind-controlled leftist-nihilists (the SF mob) and backward, ignorantly mind-hollowed traditionalists (the Muslim mob). The latter "traditionalists" are differentiated from real traditionalism, one steeped in knowledge and the power of soul.
      It succeeds by demonstrating the triumph of reaching for one’s dreams and living one’s convictions even when it seems that everything, all the odds, are stacked hugely against you.
      It is a testament to courage and the resiliency of the human spirit; it honors the ingenious capabilities of the mind and the values that inhere in the goodness of God; and it models the sacredness of the soul’s free-will ability to make moral choices and to accept responsibility for those choices (e.g., Wicket’s honest examination and search for the truth; the Freeman, private law sensibilities that Suss stands up for; Sam’s dogged determination to overcome his obvious vices, frailties and faults; the fragile, red-pilled stance of the big-hearted cleric, Rev. Gumpus, vis-à-vis his pastoral duties grounded in obedience and humility).
      The drama in the book balances notions of physical freedom and freedom’s mental trappings—the individual's right to be left alone—with an over-arching and essential spiritual component: life must be lived to both witness God’s wrath and engender the greater glory of God’s love coming from a distinctly American notion of liberty.
      The book also stands for the victory of rugged individualism over a rigged System that shelters cliques of pandering corporate cowards and thieving patent whores.
      And finally, while the sea—on the water and under the water—is a very real and powerfully awesome force, “the sea” is also a metaphor on many levels: freedom and liberty, space, time, reality/alt-reality; as teacher, revelator, vindicator, consciousness expander, Spirit leveler—it means all of this and more (in contra-distinction to the land)—and is counterpoised to the air and cosmos above-and-beyond both the water and the land.
      Concomitantly, a “vagabond mariner” refers to all riders on the storm—all who ride the tiger—whether that’s on or under the sea, on land, through the air or outer space—all are traversing the universal, inter-dimensional, cosmic by-ways that wind around and end up as one with our ever-present origin, the Source.    

[NOTE: This might easily be Part 1 of a book/drama series that tracks the development of the story line into the future.]          

[1] One who has reclaimed his sovereignty and unalienable natural rights by not consenting to live under the jurisdiction of a web of de-facto-government-contract complexity meant to control corporate persons; one who instead preserves his or her freedom and liberty by applying the true, private law applicable to all living, flesh and blood, sentient beings.
[2] Jack never joined a secret society but he always liked the “Odd Fellows” designation. Granted, he has no idea of their mission or even their origins (though Rev. Gumpus is intimately familiar with them). Still, they both use this tag in a more colloquial sense to refer to themselves and others who are drawn together by a faith as steadfast as that of the Old Believers of Russia (which, in these days of secularized decomposition seems quaint) and are, thus, odd-seeming fellows indeed!
[3] Somewhat like truckers, who also depend upon supply, but who owe their daily work to a high demand for the freight they haul
[4] Somewhat akin to truck stops
[5] Attributed to the mystical philosopher, Novalis. See, Soul Enticed: Essays in Unlearning, p.68 (quoting from Douglas Gabriel’s Spirit Awakening Through Novalis (2018),

Monday, June 22, 2020

Inhuman Secularist Mad (ISM) Dogs

Why is everyone so surprised that ‘5 Governors Forced COVID Positive Patients Back Into Nursing Homes, Killing Over 20,000’ ? One of the first groups to be murdered in a genocide campaign are the infirm, handicap, and elderly.
(NOTE: Only four are pictured above. Add to these the ISM-dog governors of New Jersey, Connecticut and Massachusetts. That makes 7 mad dog murderersover 20,000 needless elder-deaths.)

The godless ones will get their come-uppance. 

Friday, June 19, 2020

Conspiracy of Dunces, Reprise

In solidarity

In league

In bed

In drag (oh, him again)

In synch?


In the money

In breath solidarity

I just like this one 
(though it makes me feel "incircled").