Short and Dirty Review

In 76 years we have only seen:

 - Pornography.
 - Atheism.
 - Controlled miscarriages.
 - Wars of all kinds
 - Gay weddings.
 - Gay adoptions.
 - White genocide.
 - Cultural Marxism.
 - Gay Pride Parade.
 - Anti-Christians.
 - Satanism.
 - Illegal Immigration.
 - Unemployment.
 - False education at school.
 - Corrupt governments.
 - Pedophilia
 - Corrupted pharmaceutical sector.
 - Bank inflation.
 - False media information.
 - Destruction of nature.
 - Extinction of animal species.
 - Privatization of hospitals.

Rigt now, I’m 67-years old. For about my first 10 years of life, until about 1963, things were obviously bad but didn’t seem that bad. (1963 marks the year that cars went “tinny.”) I guess I was just too young to really know, to really get it. The fact remains, however, that society was being slowly cooked. It was done in a gradual way. The above changes came into being as people were being indoctrinated and managed and led into a cultural Marxist vacuum. I’d say 30 years later, in the ‘90s, things finally went into hyper-drive as the controllers determined that the populace was sufficiently softened-up and dumbed-down and enough institutions were “captured” to allow for total domination.

The stages can be highlighted by Vatican II (beginning in 1962), Kennedy’s assassination (1963), Roe vs. Wade (1973), Vietnam (until about 1976), the attempted Reagan assassination (1981), the psy-op bombing of the Murrah Federal Building in !995, the 9/11 psy-op (2001), Iraq, Syria, Libya, and Afghanistan and the never-ending clown show we’ve had to contend with during the present millennium up until now. All during this time society was degrading and slipping into the abyss. (Is it any wonder? Look at our so-called “leaders” during this pivotal time, criminals all: LBJ, Nixon, Ford, Carter, the Clintons, the Bushes, Obama—weak sickos all).

Trump was a breath of fresh air. He’s coming back. But I must say, his paradoxical vaccine mentality is disturbing. Still, I believe he represents the best effort to date to reclaim our beaten down nation from its spoilers. PDJT remains our best hope to survive as a nation. His leadership is a ray of light for the world.

I tremble for my country as much as I do for my Christian brethren in this shit-show (that really began when our country was derailed from its constitutional republic moorings during the Civil War period). I believe we will right ourselves and the world will stomp out the Deep State/Cabal scourge that has been hounding us from within and without for so long. But it will be a long slog.

So wake up and see the damage done and make up your minds to clean up this God-forsaken mess, oh fellow human beans!

I’M A PRETTY TOUGH GUY

The world’s gone mad and I don’t give a shit. Stolen election? “Pandemic”? “Vaccines”? Masks-and-Marxism got you down? Like a temper tantrum or mild symptoms from some malady, it will all pass. However, while it is blooming like a drapery of algae in a lake, it sure seems like the end of the world. Is the sky really falling? Again: Who cares? Not me. (Or, as Jimi Hendrix once muttered: “Fall mountains; just don’t fall on me.”)

Seriously! Put down your fear porn long enough to gather some common sense; untether your hive-like mind from the web; unplug and take a deep breath; go out and get some sun. Pick up a pipe and smoke some good tobacco; wet your beak on something. Free your mind from the garbage-in habits of the new screen-gazing, whether it’s a computer screen or a cell phone. Yes, you’ve sworn-off TV only to find this new “navel-gazing pastime.” Well, free yourself from the “tyranny of the frequencies.”

I’m here to tell you a few things.

Doing weird tasks is therapeutic. As a fellow who is just now finishing up the building of a shed (the project had sat in my head for over ten years) I somehow feel qualified to sermonize. And while I’m tooting my own horn, how about that vegetable garden that finally got planted in spite of weeks and weeks of self-inflicted procrastination (is there any other kind?). Big bushy tomato plants now thrive, started from seeds and now growing like crazy. I had lots of other kinds of seeds. Unsure of how to sow them, I finally threw 'em all together in a little box, then willy-nilly sandwiched them in between a few bags of humus and covered the whole mess with straw. So…stuff is happening, in spite of myself; despite my own captivity to the modern digital mind-feed illusion of news and views.

And although I am not really free, I don’t mind if I celebrate, to a degree, that I am not as enslaved as the garden variety cultural mutant out there. Yes, I went even deeper than the usual rabbit hole spelunker. I hitched my wagon to the Von Reitz crowd and became an “American National.” That was a big and long-overdue step. After years of writhing around in “sovereign-man-land” it’s comforting to find a more comfy home among organized dweebs who actually know their history and the political terrain, not to mention a deep bag o’ tricks—documents-at-the-ready—that can be executed and recorded, to make it all formal, known and final. Yes, be it now known, all you emergency worker law enforcement types, you shall not detain or interrogate this man, a man that may be lawfully armed against your intrusions!

Ah, but we’re getting too excited, too anxious. We must, at all costs, be calm and look for the nearest exit. I’m up now and moving. Hey, there’s a signpost up ahead—it’s…the Twilight Zone. Yes, I’m in that gray, grey space between fact and fiction, truth or consequences. I’m flailing away in an in-between-state. It’s not a constitutional republic, for sure, and it’s not the digital simulation most all are living in these days…wait a minute. I’m pushing at the bar. The door is opening. And a blinding light is flooding in. Yes! Wait for it!

It’s…the world outside the theater. But then, it’s just another theater. It’s a drive-in. No. It’s a walk-in. A “walk-in” has entered me. It has violated my body, my mind, my soul. Like an archon or a vax it has no facts; and while I watch this new movie [It’s only a movie. It’s only a movie.] my reality has been stolen or changed. It’s as if somebody’s trying to fit me with a toupee! Trouble is—I’m not bald on top. But they just won’t leave me alone, these damn interloping quick-change experts.

Time to wake up and have some coffee. Strong coffee with cream and some string beans—something to climb on. Yes, somewhere over the rainbow there is a land of giants and all the other stuff they yanked our chains over when we was young. Yes, as much as I’d like to deny it, I’m just as hungry for diversion as the next chump.

Better to scurry back to Plato’s cave; it’s dangerous out here. Better yet, I’ll just burrow down in my honey badger den and dream of fricasseed libtards and lizard men on the gallows.

It sure is nice to get away from all that Internet chatter and such. I was beginning to go mad—as mad as the world around me—as mad as they make it. But I can take it, cuz I’M A PRETTY TOUGH GUY.

Bucking the Summertime Blues

Summer comes twice: first, on Memorial Day, when the swimming pools open up, and then on the solstice, about three weeks later.

The heat of summer does things to human beings. It causes us to slow down. It also starts us thinking about soothing ourselves in the ocean water at the beach.

For me, summer causes me to look around, assess what’s going on, and to sum things up. That summation gets kicked off on a good, solid, encouraging note, despite the Luciferian web that has descended and has tried to despoil all and everything around us.

We’ve been saddled with bad people in big-pharma, big medicine, big government and big media all contriving to make us believe in a “pandemic” — a “pandemic” that was fabricated by exaggerated statistics founded upon a deceptive and faulty “PCR test.” These sub-humans convinced the gullible masses to wear useless face masks (an indignity I never accepted) and to do all other sorts of ridiculous things: “social distancing,” using hand sanitizer, unnecessary temperature-taking, and other dumb-ass behaviors that might typically be found in an Idiocracy. And many, many people went along with it, wearing their damned face diapers — even when outside or driving alone in their cars — like the foolish lemmings they are.

We were herded like this for about a year and three months before people finally had had enough and started waking up. The wake-up has coincided with the advent of summer. It's so wonderful! Now, finally, masks are “optional” in stores, as the same sub-humans now push “vaccines.” These are not vaccines at all but experimental cocktails of all sorts of muta-genic toxins guaranteed to screw up your body, mind and soul. Predictably, the same mask-wearing lemmings all rushed headlong into accepting these bio-weapons into their bodies. It was a horrifying spectacle to watch. (Most of my woefully misinformed family did just that!)

For someone who has always refused genetically modified food, I was mortified by how easily many, many people made no distinction when it came to GMO food and a genetically-modifying injection! But perhaps the ill-informed among us will be better off slowly dying out, which this accommodating genocidal “vaccine” seems to be doing.

OK, so this has been one horrible time for individuals and families, not to mention small business owners, whose livelihoods came to a screeching halt when ill-advised “government mandated lock-downs” shuttered them.

We’ve also been saddled with this phony president, Supreme Socialist Leader Joe Biden, and all of the goon-like fakers he appointed. Personally, it’s a sad shit-show to be watching, a contrived drama unlike no other. I’m just glad I opted out of the normative political sensibility and became an American National. At least I can enjoy a ringside seat, knowing I have, sensibly, avoided having much, if any, skin in that game. Don’t get me wrong — I’m still very supportive of the legendary President Donald J. Trump. And I am convinced PDJT will be “back in the White House” by year’s end (and hopefully, by summer’s end). That distinct potentiality has now become an almost certainty. This has brightened my mood considerably. 

Still, it’s so depressing knowing that absolute assholes think they are running the United States of America. They aren’t running it, and are doing their best to ruin it. But try to convince a typical mask-wearer of that. Their planned destruction of America — open borders, the flying of illegals to “safe houses” all over the country, the attack upon fossil fuels and meat-packing plants, their gun-grabbing agenda, Satanic public school and university agendas, and every other conceivable radical leftist lunacy that they have foisted upon the fabric of the real America — will need to be reversed in short-order, and it will be!

So I feel alright despite the fake pandemic and the fake (er, real) Joebama Idiocracy. And note: included among these idiots are most of the “captured” United States Supreme Court and a “captured,” milquetoast Congress. My only consolation is that, eventually, all traitors will hang.

But, we are not out of the woods yet. Prepare yourself for an “alien invasion” and for a cyber-attack upon our energy and financial infrastructures. Yes, the last gasp of the Deep State will very soon be upon us. It will be Part 2 of the shit-show. And as I say, I look forward to seeing all of the traitors hang: these include all of those doing the bidding of their globalist puppet-masters (notably The Pilgrims Society, their Senior Executive Service minions, and all of those guilty parties who participated in the Great Election Steal of 2020). I am confident that the White Hat Alliance and their man, PDJT, will out-maneuver both the traitors among us and their enemy paymasters.

Even if these are actually the End Times we're living in, it may just be that this spells the End of the Old World of Domination and Serfdom. I prefer to think of the End Times as the beginning of a Grand Millennium, a New World being borne in Liberty and Justice for all.

So, may all of the collective evil that has been pushed by Dracos and other Satanic-lizard-people be washed away forever as we re-build a proper City on the Hill — God’s City in a world made Good.

Something tells me this will be a summer to remember. In this “interlude between summers” it helps to chase away some long-stewing toxic thoughts and remind myself and my readers that the best is yet to come. Hold the line; Faith is prevailing; a Great Cosmic Game is playing out that soothes the collective “plimsoul.”  

Now, I need to find a comfy place on the beach to set up my old beach chair and umbrella, put my sunglasses on, and look forward to a therapeutic day of creative loafing, punctuated by some serious soaking in the sea! But even here, on the beach, with all the scantily-clad girls hanging about, I must remain on-guard. 

(SIDE NOTE: I have come to understand that we've all been conditioned to accept non-procreative sex as the norm. This mimics homosexual sex. So, in a very real way, we've all been brought into the "sodomite fold." And though I've "always had an eye for the ladies," even this archontic lust-demon within is looked upon as normative, viz., accepted or tolerated male sexual predatory behavior; and women, as sex partners, are merely "masturbatory tools."                                            It's come to light that Hugh Hefner's hi-jinx were covertly funded by the CIA, as was modern art. The great mass of Americans still, to this day, are not aware that their government was stolen from them during the Civil War period. We are up to our eyeballs in lies and most know nothing about it!) 

With any luck, old rascally Wyman Wicket will also be down here at the beach to keep me company — and to continue helping me make sense of the world.

Guides Among Us

In the long trashy slog through time and history, there are certain souls whose earthly, bright-light work shines on. They illuminate the good path of discovery for all of us human beans, for all seeking-souls intent upon knowing ourselves and more fully apprehending the full measure of our humanity.

The world is the stage, the setting, the place we share; a planet on which we labor and love, where we think and feel, wondering why we’re here, what we’re doing, and where we’re going; we wander on and on through this place, delighting in poetic moments, enduring tragedies, and we help others (just as we are helped by others) along the way.

It’s a drama, an eternal striving. Individual lives partake in a grand, macro-perpetual-motion-machine kind of reality program that is ever-molding each of us, whether we realize it or not.

Here, we are free to choose our destinies. The choices we make are influenced by those around us in the milieu of a shared culture. We are guided, for better or worse, and our character, our very beingness, is formed by that guidance.

Most wish to choose wisely. Some do, some don’t. Luckily, if we choose wrongly we can choose to right that wrong choice. Some do, some don’t — sadly, some get interrupted by a serendipitous end before they can right themselves, before they can put their wrongs aright.

And through the whole gut-wrenching process of living and learning it is the example of those whose seeming mastery of life shines the brightest and which is what leads us on. We look to their lives, at how they lived and coped with the same questions and difficulties, in an effort to make sense of our own ways forward.

In these modern times there are ready-made guidance narratives to be found in the psychic-mirror world of a tireless, propagandist media. There is the passive conditioning of TV, news and dramas and comedies, sports, music and movies; and then there is the more self-tailored world of choosing websites and books and activities in hopes of finding a more self-directed, less conditioned life. Either way, the enmeshing of ourselves in exterior guidance mechanisms is perhaps the most influential cultural agent in these times, in this era. Again, one must choose wisely among those who would guide us along.

It is perhaps the wiser among us who keep exterior narratives “in their cage,” opting instead to devote time to self-development in other, self-expanding ways, i.e., beyond the “I like to watch” mode.

Thus, I ask you this: who's your boogeyman? And how did you arrive at the making of your boogeyman? Maybe it was pre-made for you, but you had a hand in the process. Could you unwittingly be your own worst boogeyman? 

In any event, who are the guides who got you to YOU? What influences, past and present, individual and cultural, made you into YOU? If you find yourself on a plateau of presumption, having been led there by misdirection, and you base your thinking and opinions upon a shifting sand, "faulty towers" foundation, then I ask you: what kind of fucking shit ever makes any sense whatsoever? (and pardon my language, please, but some down-home, off-color, pissed-off remarks seem appropriate here).

Now, when hero guides come along, such as a Scott Onstott (see my blog post of March 8) or a Dane Wigington (see his interview by Greg Hunter here) my hat goes off to them. Scott’s deep dive into occult symbology and man-made, Masonic/Illuminati weirdness is astonishingly and refreshingly revealing to us poor dopes who are just simply slogging along as best we can, trying to make sense of the world. And “wigged-out” Wigington is an indefatigable guy who’s done his homework, uncovering some amazing (albeit depressing) facts and evidence of tons of horrific, geo-engineered harm being done to us by the same masked malefactors Onstott has already chronicled and exposed for all of us “just plain folks.”

Whether we look to Socrates, to Jesus, to the “Founding Fathers” or to the two sleuths of secret knowledge mentioned above, what is it we crave? We are ever-hoping to find those who can divulge truth (and the beauty of truth) to us, even in all of its twisted pathos, instead of giving us mindless, sugar-coated and covered-up false narratives. Discern, if you can, the truth-tellers, the prophets and the saints among us, known and unknown (e.g., Jimi Hendrix), then and now.

Yes, we can admire and hope to emulate the sly and erudite Socrates, the supernatural God-man-made flesh, Jesus, and our liberty-loving, kick-ass Founding fore-Fathers. We can, and have, learned much from the likes of them. And I never tire of returning and learning from their wisdom. I’ve also written glowing reports about Davy Crocket (Jan. 26 and 27), Mark Twain (April 7), and others — the People thirst for guides, leaders, pathfinders, avatars. And hey, I’m a People person (a kind of populist American National Purple People Eater).

So there you have it. As we suck up to who we really are — the total sum of our life learning and experiences, often colored by flawed leaders, foundational floundering and understandable flip-flopping — we must find guides we can trust to help us weed out truth from falsity, fact from fiction, reality from “woke-headed absurdity.”

Yes, I exhort everyone to wake up. All of you! Wake up! Don’t over-believe in yourself as a mass collection of wrong-headedness resulting from being misled. Have convictions, yes, but be ever-ready to revise toward that which you find truthful and wise.

Beware: trust but verify, while always knowing that dimensions exist outside your immediate ken and these must be thoroughly explored as they explode into your awareness. Not a sermon, just a thought, a nugget, something to tickle your consciousness and nudge your plimsoll. (This harkens back to that gem, Rock My Plimsoul, performed by master-guide-guitarist-and-singer, Jeff Beck. Listen in here. )

Transition Gallery

The diameters of the Moon, the Sun and the Earth using
 decimal parity all reduce down to 9 (the number of Spirit.) See, work of Scott Onstott; also see, 
https://blog.world-mysteries.com/
science/unbelievable-cosmic-coincidences/

13 stars, 13 olive leaves, 13 arrows, etc., ad nauseum; 
See, http://www.masoncode.com/the-great-seal-america/ 

Twain with a Twist

Mark Twain (1835-1910)
American par excellence

 Quotes for the ages from Mark Twain:

"It's easier to fool a man than to convince him that he's been fooled."

"Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect."

"Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it."

*********

When I conduct my daily life I can’t help wondering about others who are doing the same. And then I compare myself to them in an attempt to understand similarities and differences. Reading through the above quotes, I imagine that Samuel Clemens (aka Mark Twain) did that very thing himself.

As for me, myself, and I — I begin with a mind-body-soul premise, being mindful that we are human beings endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness, just as the American Declaration of Independence succinctly states.

It is incumbent upon us, then, to care for ourselves: to keep a clear, logically thinking, inquisitive and reasoning mind; to be vigilant about keeping our bodies fit and healthy; and to properly maintain the everyday faith, hope and charity that feeds our souls. All of the above give us nourishment and stamina.

This state of being should naturally lead one to live by convictions steeped in courage, integrity and backbone, which of course must be tempered by humility. The source of humility is the acknowledgement that, but for the grace of God working in our lives, all is for naught. Yet one wonders, as Mark Twain obviously did, how many among us in our day-to-day lives aspire to lofty ideals or engage in all that much self-reflection, let alone self-correction. 

I like to think that grace manifests as wisdom and humor, as one is filled with poetic wonder regarding the natural world and the ever-present mysteries of the supernatural. After all, human beings inhabit both natural and supernatural dimensions simultaneously. 

For me, I  sense that when we are not apprehending God’s grace working in our lives, our lives are lacking in purpose; they are incomplete. Twain, however, seems as resigned in his opinions as those being observed, whom, we may imagine, are just as resigned to living lives by simply "mucking along."

What I mean is that underlying Twain's acerbic wit concerning the (so-called) "human condition," I detect a certain fatalism; that we are cursed with a sort of collective amnesia and it hinders our ability to analyze with much introspection into our broken condition as Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve. Still, what makes Twain's quotations so precious is that we recognize the human jack-ass of which he speaks at the same moment we recognize it is our humanity that allows us to realize such notions about ourselves and others. 

Moving to higher ground — 

The opportunity of discovering the simple truth (viz., who we are and how we govern ourselves), is found in the priceless adventure of living one’s life. Usually long stretches of time, experienced in an ongoing lifetime, are required for a person ultimately to find real and true life in communion with the Godhead. If that is so, this fact of life is the foundation for holding life itself so very dear, while engaging our liberty and pursuing true happiness.      

Following this line of thought, I'd say that honoring God by honoring ourselves and others animates our lives toward truth, goodness and beauty. If we conduct ourselves in accordance with virtue — with love, patience and tenacity — our lives are good. This simple formula is all I seek in my life. Ideally, it enables me to be strong-yet-meek, fortifying me with a willingness to endure any and all trials and tribulations. In short, this path is well-suited to be the basis for the happiness we pursue. 

Am I reading too much into these Mark Twain quotes? I probably am. Maybe I'm making them too complicated. And yet I imagine that something deeper must be lurking behind the simple truths in these quotations.   

So when I look out upon others — to see what they look like and to observe how they comport themselves — and I compare myself to them, I imagine that they, too, do the same with regard to me. Each of us is a walking, talking laboratory; each of us interacts with others, all of us always wondering as we reflect upon each others' words and deeds. The world around us is a grand smorgasbord of thoughts, feelings, impressions that are processed continually within a constant flow of action/reaction.

Because I believe that all human beings are entitled to live out their lives in order to self-realize what is touched upon herein, I love life and all that promotes it; I hold sacred all that is in harmony with life. While I accept death and the mortality of physical being as an inevitable and inescapable fact, I also keep in mind the immortality of the soul. (Thus it is that the spiritual aspect of my being is what prompts my pro-life stance. Babies, in utero or newly-born, are entitled to their lives, perhaps even more so than us older, less innocent mortals.)

Human beings must be accorded their unalienable rights to be free and to live their lives as they see fit, while according the same dignity to others and to respect all living creatures around them. This is what is known as The Golden Rule. Life is what allows us to develop our physical, mental and spiritual selves in both rudimentary and complex ways. This precious and mysterious time-span, allotted to each of us (to one extent or another), needs to be respected and not unduly interfered with by other people or human institutions.

This is a simple way forward, a simple credo. It is what has prompted me to stay on-guard against all institutions, public (i.e., government) and private (viz., non-profits and large corporate entities in particular). These overarching institutions employ individuals to administer and enforce their institutional objectives. But enforcement of unwarranted interference in people’s lives is evil; it contradicts everything that is good and right about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness by alienating the God-given unalienable rights of We the People; it gets in the way of Huck and Jim setting out down the Mississippi River and tends to put a kibosh on Tom Sawyer's motley adventures.

So when I ponder Mark Twain’s words of wit and wisdom I am comforted to know that some other human being has expressed his own suspicions and disaffection for the frailties of humans and their institutions. In fact, there's a Mark Twain built into the American soul. And if you don't think so, then you are probably the butt of the joke, easily discernible in Twain's above quotations! 

Kwick Kommentary on the Organism

I can’t imagine giving up the rights to my DNA as
ransom to get back to a world that will never exist again.

[Source:  https://www.quitefrankly.tv/ ]

Formerly we suffered from crimes — now we suffer from laws. - Tacitus

The more corrupt the state, the more numerous the laws. - Tacitus

A desire to resist oppression is implanted in the nature of man. - Tacitus

Jesus Existed - Quotes of Tacitus 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2ujwhE-jN0&t=322s

Think about it. People give samples of their DNA to ancestry.com and other genealogy companies. Is that wise? I mean, we safeguard our social security numbers, right? But when it comes to the essence of one’s biological self — that’s not as “sacrosanct”?

That is DNA quandary number one.

Next, and more nefarious by far, is receiving these experimental, muta-genetic materials — DNA-altering nanoparticles, et al. — into our bodies that are masquerading as “vaccines.” It is, in fact, genetic engineering. Would you prefer to stay away from food that is genetically modified, viz., GMO “food.” I sure would. So why would you then accept being injected with a GMO serum? I certainly and absolutely wouldn’t.

People send out their DNA to questionable destinations and unthinkingly accept DNA-altering substances into their bodies, and why?

·        The first has to do with understanding your family tree, your past, and discovering new family relations, which has the potential for changing and improving your “situatedness” within the present and future;

·        The second has to do with a hope to keep you safe (albeit from an easily curable flu strain) while offering “certification” to enable you to “return to normal,’ i.e., to be able to travel and mingle among others without concern, etc. Again, it's an attempt at changing your present and future. [In reality, vaxxers are only really virtue-signaling their desire to retain the (wrongly perceived) safety, security and comfort of their familiar (false) reality. - Author's Komment] 

Good luck returning to a world that is no longer there—the world of fiat-money banking based on debt instruments, bankers’ wars, and false institutions. There is a new world beckoning us all, steeped in time-tested values and spiritual faith but activated by a consciousness of truth as never before encountered and  only imagined heretofore— a world wherein money is not based upon debt, in which you are not enslaved to debt but are immersed in knowledge, wisdom and free speech, all premised on institutions based firmly upon truth instead of avarice and corrupt political expediency.

The old world of STUPID is quickly drying up and is about to blow away. Trying to “stay safe, with a guarantee of returning to STUPID” is the stupidest thing going right now. Doing that depends upon fear-spawning-ignorance and an absence or degenerated faith in God in order to succeed. So go get “jabbed” and read your ancestry.com reports and stay in STUPID, stupid; enjoy your wish fulfillment to return to the land where God is Dead. I got better things to do and a better world to live-in and to pass-on to those who will inherit the Earth. 

Dreams Amid Weird Tasks

When I was a lad, my father took aim at a pigeon on our roof with his trusty BB gun. He fired and the pigeon came crashing down. He hit the poor thing right between the eyes. We few kids standing around, having just witnessed the fowl event, were all speechless. All my father was trying to do was to scare it away to keep it from shitting and nesting and doing whatever pigeons do on people’s roofs.

That old BB gun, a rifle really, shot copper BBs. I recall coming across it down in my aunt’s basement a few years back. One particular day I began wondering if it was still down there. It wasn’t. So I sent out a group text to my siblings asking if any of them might have it in their possession. I got the usual snide, mocking comments. No one had any idea where it might have gone. All I hoped was to enjoy using it again for some target practice.

Undeterred, I’m resolved to make a more thorough search of the basement…

In the meantime, my energies are focused on trying to build a shed. Now this project had been in my head for at least ten years. Recently, though, I was able to access four huge, sturdy shipping crates. They were free for the hauling and this find lit a shed-building fire beneath me.

After cleaning up an existing concrete slab I set these tall crates on end, side-by-side, two on each end, about ten feet apart. I set them up on cinder blocks, which made them seven feet tall, and together they were about eight feet wide. I had lots of lumber and plywood around that was scavenged over the years. So a rough plan began taking shape in my mind to cobble together this shed as best I could — and, of course, to do it as cheaply as possible. (Another factor in my mind was avoiding the buying of materials so as to eliminate the stupidity of mask-wearing in order to procure them.)

When I wasn’t trying to do shed calculations, my mind would sort of naturally return to more exotic thoughts, thoughts of sailing away to the South Sea Islands in the Pacific Ocean (the Kingdom-Island of Tonga in particular). Surely the remoteness there would be a welcome refuge from the techno-demonic, socio-political shit-show going on since President Trump made his tactical retreat last January.  

And yet such thoughts would predictably come crashing up against counter-thoughts of wife and family and wondering if and how they might figure-in to my get-away plan. In my opinion it is healthy to entertain a desire for peace and quiet, solitude and serenity — however that desire arises and whatever form it takes.

A few weeks ago my old woodworking job came back to me when the apprentice slot opened back up again. This coincided with my determination to embrace Anna von Rietziger’s American National repatriation plan that had recently been streamlined. And so I was back doing some woodworking with my friend, taking care of my elderly aunt a few days a week, and entertaining the usual exotic fantasies…and then some.

I had just sold my '80 MGB and had a few extra bucks to do some projects, like shed-building. And in a whirlwind I also decided to get my teeth in-order. This meant a trek westward to Cumberland, Maryland, to a new dentist, a “biological dentist.” And since I was going that way, I decided to keep going a bit further to Somerset, Pennsylvania. There were maintenance chores to be done up there.

So you see, there are lots of weird tasks percolating; a huge amalgam of thoughts, aspirations, pursuits, dreams and visions, are all coalescing together as Spring begins warming-up the air. Yes, I will be up in Somerset, PA to do some maintenance on the old family house there. And I've kept in touch with a local lass who helped inspire my last book. Part of the impetus of going there is to spend a little time getting to know her. And, lest any readers impute some dark, lustful motive to this seeming bit of deviltry, I will simply say in my defense that I like this woman, she likes me, and we’re up for some friendship, whether it’s an “emotional affair” or otherwise; either is dangerous, but then, I’ve always flirted with danger.

Whatever complications may arise from it, friendship is always worthwhile in my book (especially when some long-time “friends” had recently turned their backs on me for no real reason I was able to figure, other than they just didn’t seem to like me anymore).   

So life's good, in spite of welchers, wampum woes, and the witless, jay-walking, mask-wearing Puddleglums all over the place these days.

In a few hours I meet again with my new ozone therapy medical doctor whose intriguing interests have taken him beyond kinesiology. We'll see where his skills may take me. All I know is that I am loving the warmer weather as I emerge from the same ol’-same ol’ winter doldrums.

Yes, everything seems like “crabs and crumpets”, “fricasseed frogs and eel pie” — colorful phrases borrowed from my reading of The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, a thick, lovely adventure book.

Consequently, I’ll search for that old BB gun, get that shed built, whip this old body into shape, and engage in fix-up work, while fiddling away within some old and some new dreams, visions, and fantasies, all of which are worthwhile and stimulating. Pioneering and exploring is what I love best, all of which comes under the heading  “Weird Task Ministry.”

And this reminds me: interspersed among all of the above was my drafting (this week) of an appeal for my cousin Pat’s latest piece of legal bad luck, wherein he inadvertently passed a standing school bus and was hit by a $450 fine and a proposed, 60-day suspension of his driver’s license. I shot up to Somerset to file that appeal in another blitzkrieg mission of mercy.

So, if the mule don’t die and the crick don’t freeze, maybe a few things will get done around here (and elsewhere), in between slogging along in that same old rut.

I need dreams, don’t I? Don’t we all!

In the final analysis we human beans are creatures of “doing and being,” or as Miss Connie used to say on that old TV show, Romper Room — we should all strive to be good “Do-Bees.” Agreed!