images-3Ive started writing this post half a dozen times and ended up deleting and re-starting. The problem is not that I don’t know what to say, but that there is just too much to say; I have a tendancy to start writing on a line of thought that will not be finished until a 1000 words are used. I have decided to break this idea into 3 posts, I’ll need at least that much to do the topic justice.

I am going to write this as if my audience knows nothing of “the manosphere” and “red pill relationships”. There is no way I can give you a full picture of what is going on in just these few scribbles, but it should give a neophyte a rough idea, and some cautions before jumping into other blogs on the manophere. This is my understanding of the present day mating game.


Women are angry, they’ve been angry for a long time, and there is no end in sight to their anger. I realize that this is a huge generalization, but if you pay images copy attention to the cultural matrix, women’s anger is what comes through. Their anger has been there so long that we just except it as normal, a hundred years is a long time to march, shout, and blame men for all women’s problems. It started out as women’s suffrage, they wanted to vote, ok that’sUnknown-1 fair.

Then it was the “women’s liberation movement” and women demanded to be able to…..I don’t know, force their way into all the gentlemen’s clubs? Have the freedom to spit and cuss like men? Tear all the “no girls allowed” signs off of the boys tree forts? I am being facetious, women wanted to be “equal” with men, or at least that is what they said.

Somewhere along the way it changed from woman’s “liberation” to feminism. No humour here. Feminists not only want to be equal, they want to be more equal than men. I don’t know about you, but anytime something is defined as an “ism” I get nervous. Then it’s not a philosophy, the idea transforms into an ideology. A matrix of lies then begins to weave a narrative that is backed up with politics, and the philosophy seeps into the culture; or maybe its the other way around. Change is being forced into the population, the men grumble but go along with it (“alright already! can we have some peace now? How about a piece now.”)

Unfortunately peace is not part of the matrix, it doesn’t fit the narrative. Women, through feminism, have gained the status of theUnknown permanent victim. A victim that is morally and intellectually superior to her victimizer. This is a position of power. The power to both enslave women, and use force on their behalf, falls into the hands of those in control.

Who is in control? anybody that can talk the narrative of the matrix can use its power, that is why political correctness exists. I think it’s great that women can follow their dreams, there should be no rules to what a female can naturally achieve. Unfortunately the matrix has warped the “natural” out what a woman can achieve.

Unknown-2The narrative has been forced on women until it becomes what women “should” achieve.  The matrix has forced the feminine to become more masculine, but has maintained a death grip on the concept of the “feminine mystique”. The culture has been changed by the radical few, and any woman who wants to be “traditional” is ridiculed as a simpleton; if not a traitor. The real problem lies with the radical core of feminism, rather than the average woman who feels she is fighting to maintain her status. This poisonous core is entrenched in academia and behind the levers of power within the halls of government and justice.

The writings of these radicals is downright scary, they truly hate all that is masculine and wish to destroy males at all levels. These hate filled women and their philosophies are like a rusty drum of toxic waste in a strawberry patch, their ideas seep and poison all that is good. Are women happier now? It would not appear so. Areimages-8 women really liberated? I don’t know, ask a women who HAS to go to work just to make ends meet. Do women really respect the men who went along with these feminist ideas? In a word, no. The majority of women are still attracted to the strong, confident (even cocky) male persona, more on that later.


Men are confused, and becoming frustrated. Men are being attacked at all levels and have been for generations. Little boys are mostly raised by their mother, nothing terribly wrong there except the feminine matrix marginalizes the role of fatherhood. From Fred Flintstone to Homer Simpson, fathers are portrayed as bumbling idiots that would be lost without feminine wisdom. Not just cartoons, the entire culture is geared toward marginalizing men and dishing out grrrrrrrrl power with a six pronged fork (for my rurally challenged readers; that’s a fork for shovelling livestock excrement ). Magazines, movies, books and television all sing from the feminist song sheet, and men are being taught to always question themselves.

Lets go back to our little boy, now starting school. Odds are his teacher is a female, nothing wrong with that, but, the entire system is designed with girls in mind.images-5 Boys thrive on active competition, they like it rough. Girls are not so keen, at least thats what the matrix says. Boys and girls must be always together lest anyone think they are not equal, but lets not get rough, that promotes violence. I am not making this up, schools are banning dodgeball as being “too rough and dangerous”, or something to that effect. This is not a good male environment, boys couldn’t even have “boy” scouts to themselves. Boys are being denied thier own gender, the women are deciding what boys are to be. Mostly young boys are treated like dysfunctional girls, and drugged if they’re too restless. But we are just getting started into the vortex, lets take the jump to puberty.

In puberty this concept of “equality” begins to fray badly, at least in the idea that equality=sameness. Hormone soaked teens are well Unknownaware that there is something unique about the opposite gender. Now, however, the matrix uses a bullhorn to make sure that if anything bad happens it must be caused by the male, because girls are gentle, sweet, and wise; boys are rough and violent. How else can you explain this new slap at men, this sucker punch, known as “rape culture” Ponder what it says; men promote the rape culture, because only men can rape. This is unbelievable bigotry. To get a proper perspective just change the gender smear for a racial one.

What if blacks were told to stop promoting “theft culture”, Mexicans told about “sloth culture” and asians schooled in “bad driving culture”. Rather an outrage is it not? It’s a cowardly, backhanded way of generalizing hatred into; all blacks are thieves, Mexicans are lazy, and asians can’t drive. Its hateful garbage, and so is “rape culture”. The majority of men know what they would like to do to any guy who gets his sick jollies out of violently attacking a female; just integrate the prisons (let the general prisoners get at the rapist prisoners) if you need a demonstration. But there is now a problem, the feminists have changed the concept of rape itself.

Unknown-2Now our young lad in college enters the murky world of females that are brimming with grrrrrl power, and a moving definition of “rape”. At one time “no meant no” but then it changed to “yes might mean no”, if she “feels” intimidated or has had a drink. It really can mean that if the party angel feels regret the next day, it’s a good chance it was rape. But ourUnknown young guy is very respectful, he’s a “nice guy”. That is what he knows, to be a “nice guy”, the entire cultural matrix has assured him, that this is what females are looking for.

He has learned to suppress his inner “he- man”, because he has been told it is rough and violent, nothing a modern female would want to be around. He has been taught to jeer at the archetypical “50’s” male. You know, the man as a protector, leader, and provider. He has been taught to treat women as “equals” and to ignore all differences in thinking between the sexes. The girls all like him, as a friend, he can talk to them as equals just fine; the girls tell him he will make some lucky girl happy one day.

Our young man watches as these same girls go gaga images-1over the school jerk, the guy who brags in the locker room about all the chicks he’s banged. These girls all take turns becoming a notch on the jerks belt, sure that this time their feminine powers will tame the beast, and are dumped for the next one in line. The girls cry, and feel used, they were sure that it was love.

Culturally trained nice guys are confused by this behaviour. The overly cocky jerks break the equality rules (by treating girls as conquests) and are rewarded with female adoration, the nice guy treats girls with utmost respect and becomes nothing more than a shoulder to cry on. Lets suppose our nice guy muddles through the school years devoid of both rape charges and lasting relationships, and gets a job.

The guy is now making money, finding a place to live, doing all the things a man needs to do to say he’s a full fledged “man”. Our guy Unknown-3would like a mate to share his nest with. He wants a girl he can feel complete with, share with, be open to; and he’d really like to have sex on a regular basis. He might even want a financial partner, a task sharer, a social companion, a mother to bare his children; and he wants to have a lot of sex. His frustrations are poured into his vocational pursuits and financial accomplishments, but he still can’t seem to score a significant other. Finally one day it happens, he finds his “soulmate”! At least that’s what his girl tells him, and she’s sweet and kind. She’s told him she’s been looking for a guy just like him, she’s done with all the jerks and has finally found her “nice” guy. Happily ever after should now ensue, according to the social matrix.

images-10Since we’re now involved in their union we can hope true love ensues, but the odds are not favourable. Marriage has a coin toss chance of lasting and no one keeps track of the “lets move in together” demographic. We then have to lump in cheaters, swingers, and the ploddingly miserable unions, to get a picture of how the matrix has messed up the natural act of mating. As much as the matrix touts the women-as-the-victim, the modern version of divorce sees the males at the short end.

Women now cheat as often as the men. Women initiate divorce at a higher rate than men, and are encouraged to do so with culturally glamorous eat-pray-love style “frivorces”. Push comes to shove (literally)images-2 and all the gal has to do is dial 911, most police services have an “arrest the male” policy to domestic violence. Restraining orders against men are handed out easily in “domestic violence” cases and children are routinely awarded to the mother in divorce proceedings. Child support is almost automatic and alimony is possible, but the fathers role is marginalized by the matrix, he might not be able to see his own children. If the man misses his support payment he’s jailed as deadbeat dad, if the wife makes false abuse claims, it may take years to see his kids. Nobody is winning in this brave new matriarchy.

I know that I am painting with a push broom here, and sound like I am angry at all that’s female,  but that is not the case. The majority of females out there are suffering just as much as the males. There has to be a reason that women are not happy in a union that they agreed to, and seemed to be what they were attracted to in the beginning. Could it be that they were craving a “real” man to hold and to have them? Maybe a natural female wants images-1something beyond the plastic bobble head of “equality” and desires to be cherished? To be swept off her feet by a powerful masculinity? (If in doubt, check book covers in the romance novel section, nary a “metrosexual” type male to be found) Is it possible that what women are missing is a confident, masculine “leader-protector-provider” type male?

Masculinity is disappearing, feminism has seen to that. Nobody is winning here, except the man-hating, social engineering femi-nazis; many a feminist harpy is making a goodimages-1 living on the carcass of the patriarchy. The point is, that society was started on a feminist path decades ago, and the light at the end of the tunnel has the realistic quality of an oncoming train.

So now we have a rough view of the present situation, where is it taking us? What is some of the fallout from the nuked “patriarchy”?  In the next post we’ll explore that question, and take an outsiders view of how males in our present society are adapting. We’ll do some exploring of the manosphere, at least enough of it to get a cross section of its psyche. And no, you won’t have to wait months to get the next post, as I’m writing all three before I release the first one. In the last post I will attempt to bring truth, and leave a paper under a rock to guide those who are truly searching for clarity, and hope.Unknown copy


Categories: Red Pill, Wisdom | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

I’M BACK- With old excuses and new ideas

I really don’t have any good excuses as to why I haven’t posted ALL YEAR. With the busyness of a job plus being half-arsed farmer, time just flies. You can’t do it all. Only so many hours in a day and so many days in a month.  It’s tougher when you live on the land in western Canada, I’m serious. In this country when it’s not snowing you better be nose down and arse up cause there is little time to plant, weed, cut firewood, do construction, work land, fix fence, landscape, etc, etc. I counted the days last spring between last snowfall and the first mosquito, it was exactly 4 days. Like I said, things happen fast on this part of the planet. If things are not happening fast it means they’re frozen. So yes, my life has been ruled by my “to-do” list since the end of last April. In mid-summer we have long hours of daylight.  The sun brightens in the east by 4:00 AM and its still light enough to work at 10:00 PM, and it just doesn’t feel right to be sitting in the house at a computer when there is much to do and daylight’s a burnin’.  Thinking, writing, reading, and editing all take time; and none of it gets the potatoes hilled.  These are poor excuses, I know, especially since another winter has also come and gone with no writing done. No more excuses, on with it.

I’ve been cogitating and researching and brainstorming.  I have been searching for a central theme to anchor this blog on, or at least a high percentage of my images-3posts.  I kind of tried anchoring with the “grinding your own wheat in a wonderbread world”  idea, the concept of taking responsibility for finding real truth instead of getting spoon-fed artificial (or at least highly processed) “truth”  by a lying mainstream media, corrupt politicians and vacant, pretty faced celebs. It’s a good analogy, one should take responsibility for the furniture that takes up space in the mind, somehow “grinding your own” didn’t tell the whole story.  The mainstream version of “truth” is more than just random stupidity, much of it has an agenda of societal  control.

Many of the social engineers in our culture do not see truth as an elusive nugget to be found in the silt of life, but rather something to be constructed to fit their model of how life “should” be.  Truth can stand on its own, but lies need to be constantly propped up  with more lies (unless statistics can be used). The mainstream busybodies very much follow a nazi maxim; ” if you tell a lie long enough, loud enough and often enough the people will believe it” and “people will believe a big lie ahead of a small lie”.  Just because a person wants to believe something is “true” doesn’t make it a reality.  These thoughts were in the back of my mind while I was in the early stages of putting something together about the effects of feminism on our culture, and I stumbled unwittingly into the “MANOSPHERE”.  I tried to keep going and put my post together, but I was drinking from a fire hose and stalled out completely.  Sprinkled liberally throughout that thing that calls itself the manosphere was the analogy that I sought, it comes from the movie “Matrix”, the red pill/blue pill concept.

d4E4YThe Matrix concept fits perfectly. Do you want to live in reality? Take the red pill (truth). Do you want to continue to live in the made-up world of the matrix? Take the blue pill. The red pill  is harsh and uncomfortable. The matrix (blue pill) is  alluring but vulnerable; a dream conjured to control the masses. One must choose.  Most often the red/blue pill is used (within the manosphere) to explain the cognitive dissonance present in the arena of male/female relationships.  It is truly astounding how far from reality our society has fallen in the marital arena, no wonder our ability to reproduce (and nurture our offspring) has taken such a hit. No wonder our divorce rate is so high.   Men and woman are angry at each other, we’ve been sold a pack of lies about relations between the sexes and the survival of our society is in peril.  My next post will explore this red/blue pill concept of relations between the sexes, kind of a “what the heck is this all about” post.  However I think this “reality vs matrix” analogy has much more mileage, and can be used to explain truth in many other areas of life.

I am also going to try writing differently. I want to keep my posts shorter and more concise, and try to post more often. I want to explore this red pill philosophy more but also do posts of happenings around the farm and any stories that tie into ideas I have. I want to keep it light and add humour as much as possible, life is too short to not see the funny.  To all who come back to read my mental meanderings, thank you.

Categories: grinding away, the homestead | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

Spring, I think

I haven’t been posting very regular lately due to business that must be taken care of during this time of year.  Its hard to find writing time when responsibilities just seem to pile up.  Things are starting to slow a bit, and the weather has finally improved, so I thought I would post a few pics of what has been keeping me busy.IMG_5103 Yes it is calving season, and yes, the weather has not been co-operative in that endeavour. Now I don’t have very many of these t-bone production units, but even having a few cows to look after when the weather is so cold means one has to stay vigilant. Many beef producers(with large calving barns) plan their calving in January, so the calves have maximum selling weight in the fall.  Calving in January outdoors (in this country) is brutal.  I had hoped that April would have been a tad warmer but it was not to be; global warming my frostbitten backside!

One of my calves was a little retarded at birth and I had to teach it how to suck, even had to help it find mamma’s teat.  He’s a big guy and may have spent too much time in the birth canal and didn’t get the blood supply to his brain while traversing his way into the world.  The operation involves getting mama cow in a squeeze then carrying the moron to the lunch counter and helping him find the spigot.  If you have never tried to do this let me tell you it takes all the patience you have not to whack the calf on the head and eat veal for a week.  They are dumb, but oh so obstinate! You push them forward, they back up. You push their head down to the teats, they throw their head up. You get the teat in their mouth they spit it out and suck mamma’s hair! arrrrrg!  Finally, after many attempts (while your IMG_5104brain processes those veal recipes) he gets it right and settles in to feed, his tail switching with contentment. This process must be done a few times till he gets enough nourishment to have a functioning brain.

Going out to look at your own herd of cows can be quite addictive, I mean your checking on them to see if any are going to calve out, their feed and water is good, etc; but you end up just watching them IMG_5122for the sheer pleasure and contentment of it.  The older calves running, playing and exploring and the younger calves still tottering close to mamma.  The interaction between the older members and newcomers in the herd is fascinating, if one takes the time to stop and watch them.  I remember when I was a little boy, out with my Grandpa while visiting the farm, riding in the old truck checking cattle.  We would stop near the herd and Papa would light up a smoke and just watch.  I always wondered what he was looking for (he was all farmer, but no talker), I imagined that he must have a wise reason to study his herd and was analyzing that data to come to a conclusion of sorts.  Finally I would ask,  “Papa, what are you looking for?”  He would turn and look at me as if he had forgotten I was in the the truck and say; “Oh; just lookin’ at em”  where upon he would swivel back to studying the cows and smoking. I always thought that we were out there for an important reason, that studying cattle was a special skill that Papa just couldn’t articulate.  I think I understand now, it is important to check your cows during a cold and snowy calving season.  As the weather warms up, however, I find myself out there more and more; just lookin’ at em.

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images-3  Frustration, fear and a sense of helplessness.  The feeling of impending doom.  The feeling that one is surrounded  by clueless, cynical people that are oblivious to a reality that you not only know about, you can feel.  The world used to be a lot simpler, not easy, but simpler.  The fast paced technological changes coupled with the shifting sands of social evolution has made the world into an insanity factory.  Or is it all the changes that’s causing our discord with reality?  Maybe there is an underlying root to the mess of weeds that choke the peace from our lives.

What are some of our recent societal changes that would impact our culture on an epic level?  Certainly, in the images-17last 70 years, there have been big changes.  Atomic bombs, the sexual revolution, space travel, internet, etc.  Mankind’s ability to travel, learn and build has peaked. Yet the feeling of doom is in the air, why?  I think it’s because of what we’ve forgotten, more than what we need to learn.  Mankind, for whatever reason, is ignoring the concept of evil.  I don’t think it’s a conscious decision to ignore the presence of evil, it is a societal game of peek-a-boo, where not mentioning evil means we don’t have to define goodness.

And here is the problem; I really hate “preaching” in the sense that people are saying “who the hell do you think you are, saying those things!”  However, one cannot talk about the evil of teenagers shooting babies in strollers, without talking about where goodnss comes from.  No I’m not going to go into a lengthy sermon about how y’all need JESUS or anything; even if you do.  This is just a warning, that in this discourse about evil, I am going to mention God.  Try hard not to be offended.


Our culture never used to have a problem with understanding evil. I am talking about the western culture here, you know, Judaic/Christian value images-21system?  The golden rule? The Magna Carta? Declaration of Independence? Bill of rights? Rule of Law? Never mind. Lets just work with the fact that older people have no problem with understanding the war between good and evil, many of them died fighting evil.  Hitler was evil, that’s not an issue, he was doing genocide on a massive scale. If your fuzzy on this, well, God help you. I am aware of the fact that we were fighting alongside another socialist demon named Stalin, also a genocidal enthusiast, the label of evil does not change.  I’ve read all the conspiracy theories about who benefited monetarily from WW2, non of it matters.  The men who fought and bled in the war against the socialist hell of Naziism  did so knowing they were fighting evil.

The point I want to make is that the common man had a clear set of codes that he lived (and died) by.  Our western civilization is the most successful and civilized of all others combined.  Modern western society has walked on the moon, jetted around the world, raised the poor to unforeseen levels and healed the sick.  One can bemoan the pollution, industrialization, social mistakes etc until the cows come home, we’re the best so far in the lineage of civilizations.  I know how popular it is to attack everything  about western culture and society today, the progressives use every past and present mistake as a battering ram to push for the very things that our grandfathers fought against.

images-18The light of freedom is flickering out because the battle lines have been blurred, and the good men don’t know what to fight.  No matter how much some people want to stick their fingers in their ears and shout “separation of church and state”, it’s a fact our societal foundation is the Judaic/Christian concept of good and evil.  It seems that many want to keep the success of our society, especially the riches, while fundamentally changing it’s DNA to make their version of utopia. The formula does not work.  One cannot change the foundation of a building and keep the building standing, especially when the only tool is a battering ram.  That is where the frustration and doom comes from.  We’re under attack from within, and it’s a war of ideas and belief.


The trend today, within popular culture, is to mock the moral codes of yesterday.  The idea of moral relativism has gained a foothold amongst the “elite” of our society.  Moral relativism, the belief that things are only good or bad because of tradition and education, is a very subtle poison.  When that formula is applied to WW2 then the allied powers were wrong to fight Hitler, he was only following the beliefs of his aryan culture and we were wrong to judge him.   One can see this valueless system at work in our failed attempt at “multiculturalism”- we are importing gangs, terrorists and many peoples that hold our culture in contempt- and we are powerless to stop them.  Any attempt to apply common sense to the system and the magic word RACIST is shouted from the rooftops, silencing all opposition.

Some people (especially elitist types with more education than brains)  even believe that there is no moral code, that everything is amoral, morals are just figments of our imagination.  This gives us insight into a more rounded view of evil.  Evil is not just blood thirsty monsters and diabolical images-5masterminds, evil can have an “awe shucks” face- let me give you an example.

When president clinton got caught with his pants down, lied about it and then went on his merry way-it pointed to a shift in societies’ view on evil.  “That wasn’t evil-that was just sex” you say?  I don’t think so.  I know that situation was, to some males, a nudge-and-grin moment, and many women are drawn to a man in power; but it was still evil.  Think about it; for Clinton to have such contempt for his position,  his marriage and the truth-what do you think his attitude was/is toward the common citizen.  Clinton’s attitude toward the everyday people was probably the same attitude he had toward his young intern.  He completely fooled the people, the press and all the institutions of the land.  Evil does not have to have a monsters drooling fangs when a wink and a comely grin will do.

Unknown-4Here is another small example found in popular culture, comparing yesteryear to the present.  In 1938 the comic book character of Superman was born, he stood for “truth, justice and the American way”, and he is today a much loved hero.  Over the years the cultural elite has learned to sneer at heros and what they stand for, even to the point of trying to “kill off” superman (or maybe they were trying to sell more comics).  Superman is a “saviour” character that fights evil and inspires people to reach toward goodness; to be their best.

I watched a movie about some other “heros” that was based on a comic book written in 1986 calledimages-14 Watchmen.  In this story “good” guys do bad things, bad guys do evil to bring about “good” and the only character with clear moral vision is vaporized.  The story was written to deconstruct the idea of the hero and it is a contemptuous jeer toward the concept of ultimate goodness.  These examples show the path we have walked down, culturally speaking, and it’s un-settling.  Good remains good and evil remains evil.


The tools used to push the agenda of evil are really quite simple, the trick is to recognize the tool user.  The world has so much good in it, it must be hard for the forces of evil to push out all that joy.  The smile of a lover, the giggles of children, the awesomeness of creation; they all conspire to derail the agenda of evil.  The trick played on us by the amoral is to paint the world grey, and it is not easy.

Unknown-1True righteousness and evil do not mix, unless ceaselessly agitated, much like oil and water. If oil and water are constantly in turmoil the appearance is a foamy solution, if left in peace, then the two liquids again settle out into different forms; and the line of differentiation can be clearly seen.  the main thrust of those that demand a world to be not black and white, but grey, is much the same.  The container that holds the mixing of the two is our soul, and the agitation in our post-modern society never stops.  Fear, anger, doubt, ugliness, and counterfeit goodness are thrust upon us at every turn.

Our societies ability to inform and entertain is used as a crucible to boil and agitate goodness-with-evil and serve thatimages-13 unholy soup as reality.  Men are creators, builders and stewards; but are painted as moronic destroyers.  Women are nurturers, healers and life givers; but society upholds the pushiest and bitchiest among them as heroines.  People are not judged by character (that is now neither good nor evil) but by skin tone and inflamed entitlement.  Animals have more rights than babies (animals are seen as perfectly amoral) and the creation is worshipped instead of the Creator.  Mankind is on the brink of war over perceived wealth when real wealth is held back from the common man.  The drums of evil overpower the goodness and beauty of the world, and people are either confused or indifferent to their fate.


images-12Find peace. Grasp wisdom. Make a stand.  Simple, but not easy at all.  Find peace where you can find it, start by cutting your television cable.  Feed birds, pet a dog, play peek-a-boo with a baby, look at the stars, canoe down a slow river, grow a garden, build a chair, sit by a fire, paint a sunset;  call this reality.

Grasping wisdom is more challenging, at least to those who won’t acknowledge where wisdom comes from.  For those who hate the idea of God, at least pick up a bible and read proverbs.  Even if you think the whole christian thing is on the same vein as the legend of the tooth fairy, proverbs speaks for itself, its either right or wrong; read them over 5 or 6 times and decide (it won’t hurt you, I promise).  If you can get through proverbs then I double dare you to read ecclesiastes, its a story about a man who had everything a man could want, and the meaninglessness of it.  In the end he dispenses the boiled down wisdom of that experience, the lessons are images-8invaluable for combating the world’s siren call to always want mooooore of everything. If you are the poetic type, read the psalms.  The psalms hold the beauty of a sunrise, the power of a galloping horse and the joy of children’s laughter.  If you’re the type who believes themselves to be more than a cosmic burp (and believe in a creator), then ask God for wisdom, he promises to give it to all who ask for it.  After this, or during this, forge the code of right and wrong you will live by.  Think deeply, trust much, and draw your line.

Now, make a stand!  You don’t have to be narrow and rigid, as your wisdom grows, your code can be tweaked.  Just don’t be swayed by the the latest sitcom idiot’s blathering or politically correct mumbo jumbo.  I am also not talking about a code that defines the “right” number of crackers to eat with soup, think in terms of broad strokes.  Big concepts like: “is it right to kick a farmer off of his land because an “endangered” frog lives there?  Or, “should the government take money from the industrious people and give it to the lazy?”, broad strokes, you get the idea.

images-1People used to live by codes, men have sworn to defend their code to the death. I think that time is coming again, people are going to have to make a stand, or they will be slaves and have everything decided for them.  All the institutions and machinery that we have built up to shield us from personal moral decisions is crumbling or being fundamentally changed. Our concept of “society” may again come to mean those who we are social with, and those whom we can share a life “code” with, not an abstract thing we are spoon fed from the elitist’s idiot box and magazine factory (media).  Don’t let the moral relativist’s sneering contempt fool you, goodness is the high ground, the standard will be raised and righteousness shall win in the end.

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CANADIAN TO AMERICAN–  Coming Out The Other End Of The Gun Control Tunnel

I am amazed that I find myself in this position, writing to gun owners south of the 49th parallel with a few words of encouragement in their fight against the forces of socialism and gun control.  I can remember looking enviously south to the American’s  2nd amendment solidness, as my own country was locked into a lunatic push for the “control” of firearms.  I am going to write a few thoughts down that may give a personal insight into what Americans may go through if this insanity continues to the point of written law.  We, here in Canada, have plenty of laws when it comes to guns; but we were successful in getting rid of the hated long gun registry.  I don’t want to focus on the numbers, one can probably google the statistics on how much it cost our society, or how useless it turned out to be in the “fight against gun violence”. I would rather write about the effect on me, and the people I knew who were just common folk: images-7hunters, shooters, trappers, farmers, etc.  To myself and the people I know, guns are tools; no more, no less.

images-6When a person boils it down, at least in Canada, the gun debate is a rural vs. city fight; and the city folks have the voting numbers.  Every farm I visited as a kid had their guns displayed on the wall, every pick-up had a gun rack.  Hunting was a way of life, livestock had to be protected from predators and plinking with a .22 was a common pastime for rural Canadian boys. In Canada, the handgun has been regulated almost out of existence since the ’30’s. The draconian pistol laws don’t stop the gangs from shooting at one another with “illegal” handguns in the cities, but handguns are rare (almost non-existent) in the country. The forces of gun control in Canada are old, and modeled after a leftist European attitude. One of the oft heard phrases from the “progressive” liberals in Canada is, “Canadians must have decent gun laws or we will become like the GUN CRAZED AMERICANS.”  In my youth, I thought being a little more like Americans (when it came to guns) wasn’t a bad idea.  The few times our family vacationed south, to the land of the free, I was amazed to see handguns for sale in convenience stores and no bleeding, gunshot bodies in the streets.  The idea came from Canadian Broadcasting Corporation “experts” claiming that easily bought handguns and rivers of human blood went together.

images-10My own guns were purchased with sweat, at a very young age.  Guns were expensive and doing yard or farm work didn’t pay much, but I wanted to hunt and shoot bad enough to put in many long hours of toil.  I still remember the excitement when my money was saved up and it was time to take Dad to the store so I could buy my firearm.  All the time I was working I was thinking about what brand or action of a gun I wanted to buy.  I spent many pleasant hours of discussion with my Dad and brother about guns; and too much time daydreaming (when I should have been doing schoolwork) of the hunts and adventures I would have.  I remember those times to this day, and I was quite young when I purchased those guns.  These pleasures I never got to experience with my own son, it was not long after this that the foolish gun control garbage began to constrict Canadian freedom.

The first law I remember that affected us came through in 1979, with the advent of the “firearms acquisition POL_Canadacertificate”.  A Canadian who wanted to purchase any firearm had to apply to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) for this piece of paper, good for five years. It took a month or more to get an F.A.C from the mounties, who took their time doing criminal background checks, etc.  The F.A.C also gave the police search and seizure powers over and above a non-FAC Canadian, some provinces made a gun safety course mandatory for acquiring the right to buy a gun.  There were protests and arguments at first, but in the end, shooters and hunters grudgingly went along with this “Canadian solution” to ending gun violence.  The gun control crowd thought of this as a first step, and I remember my dad saying that the next fight would be for registration of all guns;  that push wouldn’t happen for another ten years.

MarclepineIn 1989 an angry and demented individual, who blamed women for all his problems, took a legally purchased Ruger mini-14 into a Quebec college, and (after separating out the men) shot and killed 14 female students.  I remember the outpouring of grief and rage that followed, and amid the tears and candlelight vigils, the cries for more gun control was heard coast to coast.  The images-4politically correct media never mentioned that the twisted murderer was the son of an Algerian immigrant, who held women in contempt, and abused both his wife and his son. It was also a fact that the shooter had multiple mental problems. To the press and political elite, however, it was the “easy access” to firearms that was to blame!  The incident galvanized the anti-firearm crowd to push for stricter laws.  Any citizen that argued against tougher gun laws was at best, “twisted by the American gun culture” or at worst a wanna-be murderer of women.

In 1995 bill C-68 was pushed through parliament and the registration of all guns was under way.  There were many other restrictions and laws within the bill, firearm storage, ammunition sales, the banning of types of firearms, etc. I wont go into the nasty details, except to say it was confusing, alarming, and in the end; expensive to taxpayers.  It was also useless and destructive.  Many gun stores shut down, the big chain stores quit selling guns, people were arrested and put in jail because they didn’t understand the storage laws; I could go on and on.  My own perception was that the laws were designed to be confusing, and that the gun control crowd had a “serves them right” mentality toward some hunter images-2looking at five years because he didn’t lock up his ammunition, gun, and “bolt” separately.

I could be wrong about some of these stories, because I quit paying attention to them.  My guns “went away”, as did many other’s guns at the time. I honestly think that was one reason that the registration was finally dumped, the government knew it’s database was severely short of the actual numbers of guns in Canadian society.  Even though there were line-ups THE SAME DAY that the registration opened (it was years before compliance was mandatory) , the basic instinct of hunters, shooters, trappers, farmers and the like is that it was none of the government’s damn business what guns were owned by whom.  None of this matters, overnight I had become an outlaw by the stroke of a pen, and shooting was never the same after that.  Those guns I had bought in my youth, that had given me such joy, could now earn me ten years in jail.

Unknown-3I lived out in the country, so I was able to do some shooting. I quit hunting for the most part, and if I did I went alone, and within walking distance of my house. I taught my kids to handle firearms, but I also had to impress on them to keep quiet about guns. Maybe I was a little paranoid, but the law was in place and I was not complying.  All the posturing that goes on amongst hard core shooters about “giving up my gun when they pry it from my dead fingers” is just that; posturing.  It’s not the swat team kicking in your door that will get you, just circumstances.  You go for a drive out somewhere to shoot, guns hidden in the car, get in an accident, and you’re caught.  A friend or family member talks, the police wait for the right moment, and you’re caught.  Your house catches on fire, fireman find your burnt collection, and you’re caught.  There is a low grade fear that follows when you are outside the law, even an unjustified, foolish law.

Meanwhile, the politics of the situation were at a full boil.  The cost was initially estimated to be two million dollars and ended up growing to over 2 billion.  The system was hacked multiple times and the ineffectiveness was legendary (over 4000 stolen guns were successfully re-registered without alerting authorities).  Estimates of non-compliance were at 70%. The politically motivated police chiefs united behind the gun law but the cops on the street didn’t trust the system.  Political parties were born out of the turmoil and others lost the backing of the people. It was a mess.

The turning point, at least in my mind, was another tragedy that again happened in Quebec.  On September 13, 2006  Dawson college was attacked by a twisted individual brandishing a legally REGISTERED firearm.  The glorious gun laws of the Canadian left had failed entirely, and what little support the idea of gun control had; crumpled.  Even the most left-winged newspapers focused on the shooters love of death metal music and his vampire fascination. In November of 2012, the conservative government of Canada passed bill C-19; which put a bullet through the head of the long gun registry.


Those who want guns controlled can be broken down into 4 groups:

Group 1– Smallest and most dangerous, they want to control guns because they like control.  They will control anything that people will let them.control.images-3

Group 2– They don’t like guns. Guns are scary and evil and no one should have them.  If mommy government would take away all the scary guns, people could all live in peace together under the rainbow with the birdies and flowers.

Group 3– They’re not sure about guns. They don’t shoot and don’t understand why others want to. They follow their politics and their politics say guns are “right-wing” and gun control a sensible “liberal idea”.

Group 4– They’re not sure about guns. They don’t understand guns. Gun violence scares them so doing “something” about it seems right. They don’t understand why the gun crowd won’t see “reason”.  This is the largest group.

There is some blending of the groups but by and large if you talk to a gun control advocate long enough you can spot their mindset. Be courteous to group 4, try and educate them, heck, take them out for some plinking. Same goes for group 3, just forget arguing politics, it’s a waste of time. Ignore group 2, even group 4 knows they’re nuts. Never, ever turn your back on group 1.

Do not ever think, if you compromise what is logical to you, that the gun control issue will go away. To some gun control advocates even a sling-shot is evil and dangerous (to some even a picture of a weapon is grounds for panic).  Hunters beware!  Once the control crowd is done with semi-autos and handguns, scoped rifles and pump shotguns are next!

Registration of guns is, at best, an expensive, useless, and dangerous joke for fighting crime, and at worst, a hit list for confiscation.

Another observation was the attitude of other shooting enthusiasts about gun laws.  Before the vilification of gun owners by the media and the torrent ofimages-5 confusing laws put into place, these individuals would never have dreamed of breaking laws. After the long gun registry was put into place, attitudes changed toward acquiring illegal handguns etc.  “May as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb” was the reason given to me by one Canadian gun enthusiast.

Be firm, but kind, to all individuals who advocate for gun control (groups 2, 3 and 4), be cagey and ruthless with organizations that advocate for gun control.

Never give up hope for true justice. Never quit believing in liberty. Trust in God.

Categories: Gun Control | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments


Grinding Your Own – The Quest for Food Control in aimages Wonderbread World

Time for another thought in the grinding-your-own category.  There is plenty of material out there in society harping about food.  We have the first lady of the United States telling children what they should eat (while she scarfs down fast food),  the mayor of New York dictating soft drink sizes and the usual assortment of vegans, paleos, diet nazis, and other nuts telling us what to eat.  I’m not going to go there, everyone should be free in their own choices of what to put in their mouth.

That is what I want to talk about; food freedom.  Before we embark on this topic, I suppose, I should tell you where I fit in the818593_original spectrum of food choice. Bottom line; I am completely against starvation.  Moving on from no food, to what I actually eat, I suppose I am closest to the “cave man diet” that is all the rage right now. I have not read any books on the subject of this diet, but have kind of followed this concept for eating for a longer time than I could put a name on it.  My food philosophy is as follows:

1) Don’t follow stupid food fads- eat what makes you’re body happy (as long as your listening to the long term effects)

2) Eat what is put in front of you- if someone has put a meal together, enjoy it or endure it, keep your mouth shut except to have another bite (unless you have allergies).

3) When making food choices for yourself, stay as close to the source as possible- if the root vegetables have dirt on them, you’ve killed your own meat or you find a bug in your berries, these are good things. It probably means your sourcing your own food supply.

4) Stay away from processed foods as much as possible- the more its ground up, the sooner you’ll be underground.Girl_holding_tomatoes

5) Grow, raise, hunt, gather, preserve- food independence has a spice all its own.

6) Be thankful for the food you receive- saying grace never hurt anyone.

PR_036-_SI_-_03_07_12-633I don’t follow my rules perfectly, I’ll eat a boxed pizza as quick as anyone, but these rules are always in the back of my mind.  The rules keep me weeding my garden when its hot and give me the strength to pull the trigger on my future steak supply.  I have worked at finding other foods that are as close to natural as possible, then support  those sources. It is a lot of work to eat this way.  Cost, prep time and planning become a challenge; it’s a lot harder than dialing for chinese food delivery.

North Americans have a weird relationship with food.  We are so price motivated and health ignorant.  Paying someone to grow organically is looked at as a food snobbery, or just plain spendthrift. Case in point;  I used to own an earth sheltered greenhouse where we grew Pr_108_-_TRI_-_30_12_10_-_062tomatoes, cukes and peppers, all organically.  The flavor of our veggies was far and beyond the supermarket produce level, and many people told us that.  They praised the flavour but tried to get us to sell at the cheapest supermarket price, and some wouldn’t buy our produce because of cost.

The most tomatoes per plant I could get, using organic methods (soil testing, foliar feeding, etc), was an average of sixteen lbs/plant.  The mega greenhouse where the plants are grown in sawdust, and you need a chemistry degree instead of a green thumb, can get 80lbs/plant. The tomatoes forced with chemical fertilizer and sprayed for disease taste just like, well, nothing.   It’s the economy of scale that makes factory food cheaper.   North Americans will pay top dollar for clothes or jewelry (to wear on their body) but refuse to pay an extra penny for good food (that becomes part of their body).

Food fads, cheap food supplies (based on large scale petroleum hungry farm methods), little research into nutrition (health research is driven by drug company money) and penny pinching food attitudes have left an intellectual wasteland for making food decisions.  When in doubt, go for the flavor, good tasting fresh food will always be slow grown (not forced) and the nutrition content better.  There is a problem with this method, you may not know what good food is supposed to taste like.  Give yourself a month to retrain your taste buds.  Find yourself a natural food supply, one that you can acquire food as close to the earth as possible.  Grow a garden, find an old style farmer that’ll sell stuff, hunt, fish, go to a farmer’s DSC_4942market, join a community supported agriculture (csa) group, etc.  Live, totally, on this food supply for at least a month.  When you go back to supermarket fast food, you will notice a difference; guaranteed.  If that is too hard, pick a food you like; say pork chops.  Now find a farmer that you can buy a real pig from, you know, a pig that has seen the sun and knows what its like to root in the dirt.  Pay the farmer to haul that pig to a local abattoir and get it butchered.  Eat that pork for a few months and then buy some pork from your local supermarket, factory pork tastes like pig feces smells; try it.  Real food tastes like freedom.  Long live real food!

If there is anything I would like my readers to take away from this, it’s that, food freedom.  Maybe all the talk of butchering has grossed some out, maybe SG203744imagesgardening is a boring topic, maybe pizza pops are your idea of fine eating;  liberty, is everybody’s business.  Food freedom is something most people don’t even think about, but control of a population’s food supply is as old as civilization itself.  The favorite tactic of warring indian tribes was to find an enemies winter food supply (dried meat, pemmican, etc.) and destroy it.  Kings during the middle ages gave royal decree to favorite millers, all others caught with milling stones (like the ones pictured at the top of this page) were executed.  In more recent times Stalin’s socialist worker’s paradise starved to death 3 to 7 million people by controlling the food supply in the Ukraine.  Governments and food are not a good mix, it’s not about safety, it’s not for the children;  in the end it’s always about control.

If you think that food safety is at the bottom of all the regulations then ask yourself these questions. When images-3contamination strikes in the food supply (and it’s inevitable) is it better in a massive plant that produces by the ton, or a local establishment that produces by the pound?  What gives the people the most control of food quality?  A local artisan where the public can see the operation?  Or a massive food factory that the  public never sees? (when was the last time you saw your chicken or cheese being processed?)

When my mom was a girl (50’s) she lived on a farm.  The farm was a mixed operation and money was derived from images-2milking cows (and separating the cream), raising chickens for meat and eggs, and raising pigs.  The only commodity sent away for processing was the cream. The eggs and chickens (chickens were butchered on the farm) were sold to the local grocery store, the pigs were butchered at a local abattoir and the meat sold locally.  Even vegetables were sold to the local store (if they had a surplus).  When my mom was born, my grandpa butchered a steer and pedaled the meat in town to pay the midwife.  Did all this farm-to-store food cause massive deaths? Was contaminated food a huge issue?  Any more than today?  Even this very week the news is filled with hamburger recalls due to food poisoning and plastic material found in canned vegetables. The issue is not safety, the issue is control.  People (at least a free people) should be able to eat what they want.  If you desire to eat processed sludge that should be your choice.

Unknown-3Maybe after reading this, and you hear of  another armed government raid on a Mennonite farm selling “raw” milk, you will at least feel a little outraged.  Maybe after reading this you will have an urge to find an old fashioned farm (they are a dying breed) and buy their produce.  Maybe a few will realize that small scale farming is being destroyed by a combination of government regulation and profit hungry agribusinesses, and will support the concept of the family farm with their voices and their wallets.   Maybe some will wake up and realize that  the sources of garden seed are being bought up by the agri-giants, and the ability to control even home gardeners will be in the hands a few powerful men. Or at the very least, you will think about where your food comes from, and realize how important it really is.

Food is much more than something we put in our mouth, in the end food is the freedom to keep on living. Put this intellectual wheat in your grinder and grind out your own answer……who should have control of what we eat?

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Beware The Power of the Gluck-Gluck


When I was a very young lad, my family lived in a fairly large city.  That city, in those days, still had milk delivery (yes I am that old).   Every morning the milkman delivered glass bottles of milk and took the empties away, talk about being environmentally sound!   I was very young and barely remember the uniformed man whistling as he strode up our sidewalk with his crate of tinkling glass bottles, what service!  I am sure those heavy, cold, glass bottles made the milk taste better. The bottles had a square profile ending in a round mouth that was plugged with a waxed cardboard disk. The heavy bottle was filled all the way to the round neck with icy cold, rich, milk; yum.   Also hidden within those full bottles was a treasure that my brother and I strove to receive, the bottle was filled with many refreshing glasses of milk, but there was only one gluck-gluck

Unknown-2Yes, when the bottle was filled to the top  and was tipped to pour, it made that sound (glook-ka-glook), we called it the gluck-gluck  (only one per bottle!).  The story is (I was too young to remember the first time), it was my dad who made that sound a coveted commodity.   He was pouring himself a glass of milk out of a freshly opened bottle, and upon hearing the sound pronounced; “I got the gluck-gluck”.  Well, that was it!   From then on the competition to receive the desired gluck-gluck was on. I can remember the arguments, between my brother and I, as to who received the blessing of the gluck-gluck when a new bottle was opened.  Mom and Dad had to keep track of whose turn it was, and I remember when dad poured the loser his glass, he would try and console us by saying “gluck-gluck” when he poured; but it was a poor consolation prize.

The gluck-gluck had become a commodity, it is an interesting concept to study. The gluck-gluck was not really a necessity, it was a want.   The want was created by my father recognizing it’s scarcity and announcing its desirability.  From there, the competition between my brother and I took care of the rest.  I’m sure, if my brother and I would of had a disposable income, dad could have made money selling us a sound. Maybe dad should have made us do chores to earn the right to the gluck-gluck, we were certainly motivated.

When I view the materialistically minded world of consumerism that we currently reside in, I am astonished by the amount of money being spent on gluck-images-14gluck.  Clothes with the “right” label, “popular” food brands (eaten not for taste or nutrition; but because it’s cool), expensive branded electronics, and many others.  It is not a problem if only a few things are coveted  for their popularity, but spending money to “be cool”  becomes a way of life. People can be separated from large amounts of cash because they spend their entire life looking for the next trend to jump on.  They don’t buy things based on value, or price, but instead are sold an idea.  The idea of trendiness, the fantasy of popularity, the myth of cool;  all at premium prices.

images-15I think people are influenced by popular culture more than they would ever admit.  Television, movies, magazines, etc all combine (they are all owned by six mega-corporations) to leave the common person with the idea that there is a “popular culture” out there, formed by the everyday people.  It’s not!   A large percentage of popular culture is created in the board rooms of mega media corporations.  This is the same media that is also telling you what music to buy, what to eat, what to wear, what to drink, how to think and where you should look for entertainment.  Think about it; a single company can make a movie, then talk about it on their own radio and television stations, write about the movie in several magazines and multiple newspapers (all owned by them), and even put out a huge presence on the internet!  It is possible for a media giant to make a movie appear popular, even if it sucks.  Nobody wants to be odd, we all like to fit into our crowd.  When the media giants can control the crowd by telling them what it “wants” and changing the menu often, it becomes a trillion dollar industry.   images-16

Have you ever stopped to consider how silly designer labeled goods are?  I mean you need jeans to cover your butt, does the label really do anything?  No, the jeans still do their job, with or without a label. It is interesting to shop in a second hand clothing store, all those faded labels, they mean nothing now, one just looks to make sure the jeans fit and the material is sound.  In those same stores one can find many other used products that were once the rage, now reduced to clear.  Just the other day in one of those stores I saw a box full of cabbage patch dolls, I remembered the Christmas that those dolls were all the rage.  People were paying four times the going price for those dolls, if they could even find one.   The money spent on popularity and fad is forever gone, with nothing to show for it.

images-11The world is changing, disposable incomes are dropping, resources are becoming scarcer; it’s time for everyone to take a hard look at what they spend money on.  Need will have to replace want in the decision making process.  It’s very hard to use the word “need” as in saying, “I need that designer shirt”.  If every person looked only for quality when buying consumer products, companies would have to change, and start producing only quality items.  Stop looking for that ultimate something that will make you cool, it doesn’t exist; that’s all just media gluck-gluck.

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I guess I should spend a little time on the concept.  What, exactly, does the title mean?   The concept about bread is an 818593_originalanalogy to our decision making process.  Everyone, everyday, makes decisions, both big and small.  Those hundreds of decisions plot the course we take through life.  The decisions are made using the blueprint of our root philosophy.  How do we form that blueprint? Upbringing, family, friends, past experience, and especially education.  I mentioned education specially, because today the majority of people spend their 12 most formative years in the government’s school system. we’ll talk more on education later, back to the wheat metaphor.

If you went to a company picnic, and amid the bustle of hamburger buns, mustard and smoking bbq’s, you saw an individual pull out two rocks and a bag of wheat to make flour, you would not be curious about his abilities.  You would probably question his philosophy about life, (admit it, you’d think he was loony).   That’s the challenge we’re faced with here, changing the way we think about things takes discipline.  Our nature resists changing our philosophy, it’s worse than admitting we made a mistake, it’s like saying we really don’t know what we’re doing.

Another problem arises, the majority of people today are working with a philosophy that is a patch-work of many different ideas.  The ideas are cobbled draft_housetogether from the many sources listed above.  Many of these ideas conflict with one another; that’s called cognitive dissonance. Cognitive dissonance leads tobrain_design_by_cogs_and_gears_7 confusion, fear, anger etc.  Checking over a blueprint before construction is a tedious, laborious, boring job. To an observer, watching that person, they’re  just sitting and staring at a big piece of paper (maybe punching a calculator or scratching with a pencil once in awhile).   To the builder, checking that blueprint over is very important; he can catch the mistakes before they are cast in concrete.

So many blueprints (personal philosophies) today are spliced together with scotch tape, after  having been cut from a plethora of other blueprints, then roundly defended as a sound building practice.  In the bread analogy, it is much easier to open that plastic bag and grab a slice. Your friends do it, that’s what they do on T.V, that’s what you were taught, and that’s the way you’ve always done it.  You’re bound to defend that slice of convenient cotton, even though it’s tasteless, textureless and probably unhealthy.  You have no idea where that bread was baked, what went in it, or how its formula was derived (probably for longevity, eye-appeal and maximum profit).

“So a baker of yesteryear would spit it on the floor”  I can hear people saying, “ I’ve always eaten bought bread, and who are you to judge!”   No judgement from me my friend, you eat what you want.  I’m just trying to make the point that the weirdo with the two rocks and a bag of wheat probably really knows his bread.

Convinced? Wanna get started?  Ok, one has to start at the basics, but first a few warnings.  This is going to take time, it’s going to be tedious, and that bag of sliced white fluff is going to be awfully tempting before the end. There are endless types of grinders, varieties of wheat and many bread recipes to decide on, ni+_o_pensandoyour going to have to do your homework. In that vein of thought, let’s go back to school.  We can take a trip down the hallways of our education system as our first study into what makes up the blueprint of our life’s philosophy.

I have no professional degree in education, no 3d_man_and_idea_bulbletters after my name.  My credentials are as follows: My mother was a teacher, I spent 12 years in the government school system (plus 2 years of technical college) and I home-schooled my two children grades 1 through12.  If that, in your opinion, is not enough “education”  for me to be able to think and write about this subject, then tuck these papers back under my grinding stones and be on your way.


“We must put more tax dollars toward education, our future depends on it!”, is the oft heard phrase today, usually from the teachers unions at the bargaining table.  Our society is pouring huge amounts of tax dollars into a system that just keeps asking for more, while giving dire predictions of a bleak, ignorant future if austerity is even suggested.images-6

Results? Bad and getting worse, one doesn’t have to research deeply, just ask the average teller to make change when the cash register doesn’t work. Talk to college profs that have been around awhile, the honest ones will tell you each new generation of students starts college with less knowledge (and a poorer attitude), than the previous one.  I have a grade five text on my shelf from 1913;  the level of literacy required to read and Unknown-4comprehend its contents is shocking.  Too many high school grads today can’t read or do simple math, and the government school system keeps demanding more money to fix the problem.

I am not going to pick on teachers, many are wonderful people with a true calling in life (some are just left-leaning union thugs on the take, only resorting to teaching because they washed out of engineering or something).  I suspect that the government education machine chews up and spits out many of the sincere teachers.

That’s what I want to focus on, the machine, let’s check out that blueprint.  I could do a long drawn out dissection of the beast, but I think you’ll get the Idea if we just take a walk into the past, and check out the birth of the system we call “public education” (the only thing public about it is the forced taxation that funds it).


Old_Flag__2Let’s take a look at the good ol’ USA, land of the free.  Before the 1850’s, education in the US was a conglomeration of private community schools, church schools, and home education.  Were the people uneducated and ignorant? Some were, much like today. Some were uneducated because they didn’t have the money for private schools and their parents didn’t care about “ejimucation” anyway.  The masses, however, were not ignorant, a peek at the political flyers of the day (you know the ones they handed out to the common man, fishing for votes) show a surprising level of required comprehension and vocabulary in order to understand.

In 1852 governor Edward Everett, of Massachusetts, forced government compulsory education on all citizens of the state.  From there the system was forced 29_4throughout the country with blood, tears and gunfire. I am not kidding.  Was the system forced because of the massive level of ignorance and illiteracy?  No! The rally cry was similar to todays “no child left behind” excuses, but that wasn’t the real reason.  The government of the day was worried about the Catholics, the Mormons and the Cherokee.  These people were “different” than the rest of society, and they had their own education systems. The government desired a more controlled standardization of the population (with an eye toward “assimilation” of those “different” people)  But there is an even more mind blowing reason that governments all over the world fell in love with the “system” for education we have today; blame the Prussians.

images-5When the Prussians were whipped by Napoleon, they decided they needed a system that would turn out subjects that could take battle field orders more reliably.  You know, march over there, stand in a row,  get shot at.  The Prussian professional soldiers and conscripts tended to bolt, fancy that.  So the Prussian ruling class got together and came up with an idea for an education system that would guarantee a more “orderly” society. That system worked like a charm, turning out all the classes of people with the proper attitude toward taking orders from their “betters”.

One half of one percent of the population had the bucks to privately tutor their children.  The fading monarchy, high brow military, and rich industrialist’s children were groomed to rule, they were the “elite”.   These children had a “classical education”, they were taught to think contextually, strategically, and learn complex processes.  Everything they learned was useful and fit together in the “whole”, so as to be able to master and command.  They were drilled on history, read extensively, wrote exhaustively and were always, always, taught to debate everything with their tutors.

Five to seven and a half percent of the population (the gifted and connected) went to the “good schools”, paid for by the government.  These kids learned some contextual thinking, but were mostly taught to be problem solvers.  The teaching in these schools leaned heavily towards the technical, and concentrated on memorizing large numbers of facts.  These students were groomed to be doctors, lawyers, managers, upper civil servants, etc.  Their place in this “ordered society” was to be managers of men, materials, and situations.

images-1The majority of the population’s children (92-94%) were placed in government schools called “peoples schools”.  These children were taught cooperation, Unknown-2obedience, and correct attitudes. There was great emphasis put on patriotism, teamwork, competitive sports and obedience to authority.  There was teaching in rudimentary literacy and numeracy as well as mythical patriotic history.  None of these students were taught to apply value or context within the framework of their knowledge; just given bits and pieces of needed facts. The patchwork knowledge the students graduated with, was meant to be interpreted by their superiors.  When these students graduated they were slated for the factory floor, battlefield, and lower levels of government bureaucracy.

Sounds very class discriminatory doesn’t it?  But, my oh my; did it ever work.  Gone was that pesky individualism that gives the hee bee jeebies to those leaders who think they have the plan to run everything.  It really is a form of brainwashing, and it dominated the 20th century,  and it looks determined to carry on into the 21st.


 Girls_get_tired_of_studying   I made this “brainwash” comment about government schools once, and a lady nearly bit my head off.  She stated that the ideaimages-3 was ridiculous, and the school system wouldn’t put up with it, even if it were remotely true. I think she had the idea of a “stage show” type of brainwashing.  You know, a magician on a stage convincing an audience member that they’re stuck to their seat, or have peed themselves, that’s not what I am talking about.  I am talking about long term, systematic brainwashing.  Big buildings, institutional classrooms, always changing teachers, students separated by age group (not ability), multiple subjects taught in one day, stay in your group, line up here, heed the bells, this is a test, here’s your mark, etc, etc.  Is it any wonder that kids learn imagery_28_10_08_000652to hate education?  Is it any wonder that the students are disillusioned with learning, and instead become infatuated with their social standing amongst their peers?  The kid’s entire “educational” experience, for twelve long years, is one giant social meat grinder!  Don’t believe me? Well let’s look at the system as defined by the men who helped create and shape it.


Edward Ross, at the end of the 19th century, one of the men who helped shape the government school system in the USA, called children:  “little plastic lumps of dough, taken from private households, to be shaped on the social kneading board.”  That’s in the past you say? William H. Seawell, University of Virginia professor of education, in the 1980’s stated:

“Public schools must promote civic rather than individual pursuits….we must focus on creating citizens for the good of society… each child belongs to the state.”

2299_1Any young person that takes the red pill, and begins to see the little man behind the curtain in the educational land of OZ, is labeled a trouble maker, and slapped down; or drugged.  The social experimentation continues, to the detriment of literacy rates.images-4   Environmentalism, socialism, moral relativism, multiculturalism, feminism, and every other fad “ism” popular today is what is being crammed into the kids, until they are no longer an individual, just an insignificant member of the organic matrix.VHV-2039

If you are reading this, and have children in a government school, you could be feeling defensive and angry.   Take heart, I lean toward home schooling, but many children learn in spite of the crushing educational machine.   At the same time, be aware of the system your kids are in, talk to them about it, encourage them to learn on their own.   Children are born with a GOD given, brightly burning light of curiosity.  A child’s need to learn is natural, they are sponges for knowledge and ideas.  Young people have a desire to grind their own intellectual flour, a little encouragement and guidance is all that’s required.  You were once that way, we are all born with a desire to know things. Then the system convinced you, that the only smart thing to do, was to rely on the availability of factory made wonder bread…’s the only thing that goes with the government kool-aid.

Categories: grinding education | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

Topofil secret and what’s next

If you haven’t read the last post you won’t understand the next couple of sentences, it concerns a device I used that tested my patience. Feel free to scroll to my last post about patience at this time and then come back.

The sneaky way that machine was snipping my thread had to have a cause, besides the excuse of driving me crazy.  I knew when I got back to camp I was going to take that box apart and find the means by which the possessed machine was committing its destruction of its own line. There had to be a logical reason that the topofil was doing this, and I found it.

Remember I had mentioned that the when threading the topofil the string had to pushed through glass tubes?   The glass tubes were there to mitigate the friction on the thread whenever the string changed direction in the box or passed through the metal and plastic frame.   If I remember correctly the tubes were about a quarter-inch in diameter and attached to the box with rubber and metal clamps.  I do remember, cause that’s where I found the problem, that the ends of the glass tubes were flared slightly and had a thickened edge for strength.   On the thickened edge of the first glass tube I found that a tiny chip of glass had fallen out.   There was no crack in the glass like it had been struck, more like an impurity in the glass had fallen out.  The hole that was left was angular and the tiny edges sharp. The chip was hard to see even with the box disassembled. I fixed the problem by very carefully removing those sharp edges with the corner of my sharpening stone, then filling the tiny hole with candle wax.   Doing this fix while sitting in a damp tent gave me a chance to exercise that patience I was talking about.  The secret is now revealed.

I am toying with an idea about what I want to write about next.  I am thinking of stringing together some thoughts under the title “Grinding your own grain in a wonder-bread world.”   Not that I am actually going to make flour with a grinder, I could write about that as I’ve done it, this is more on the theme of 818593_originalthought processes.  In this day and age so many of our thoughts, ideas, impressions, etc about life are given to us like slices of processed white bread, all impurities removed and vitamins re-injected.  Individuals can make a sandwich, choosing their own filling, but the sandwich is still framed by the slices reached for in the plastic bag.  Starting out with wheat berries and finishing with real bread is imageshard work,  results can vary.  The process  is the key, think of all the things to be learned along the way.  In your own thought life, do you want hollywood or Madison avenue telling you what to think?  Life is more than just the end sandwich.   Any thoughts out there?

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Patience-part 2

Patience- Part 2

Unknown   So, round two, on patience. Everybody being patient about it?  All three of you ha ha. In the last post I mentioned how it’s possible to think that patience is only required when dealing with our fellow man, (or women, in the case of the coupon lady).  I alluded to a story of lost patience which occurred when I was completely and totally alone.  That particular story will require a fair bit of history if it’s to make sense.  Hang on for a bit while I weave the tale.

I am a ticketed forest technician with field experience.  Back in my dim past, I was working on aUnknown-10 forest management crew.  On this occasion the crew’s job was to supervise a private contractor, and his hard working hirelings, in the endeavor of planting tree seedlings in an area that had been logged the previous winter.    Our crew, working for the government, didn’t actually have to crack the whip, so to speak, but we had to be sure that the terms of the contract were carried out as to planting density/quality etc.    In order to locate our randomly mapped out test plots, one needed to use a compass, to find direction, and be able to measure linear distance (the GPS system was not in commercial, or personal use at the time.)   The linear measuring device we used (invented to measure distance and patience, I’m sure), was called a topofil, which is the inanimate character in my story.

images-9   The topofil utilized a cone shaped spool of thread, the end of which wound its way through a tensioner and around a wheel.  The end of the thread (about the same size as sewing thread) was tied off at the start point, and as you walked the uncoiling thread would turn the wheel, which kept track of distance like an old fashioned odometer in a car.  This was the theory anyway.  Like all machinery the topofil had its quirks, and all of the quirks were infuriating. If the tensioner was too tight the line would snap, to loose, and it would slip on the wheel and stop measuring.  I could speak at length about all the idiosyncrasies , extreme cold, badly manufactured string, wet string, abuse of the previous owner, etc; that could cause topofil frustration.  Having to work  with these devises day in, day out, you learned all the tricks to keep on keepin on.  The tricks all failed on the day of conflation.  The day my patience snapped entirely, and left me ready to commit topofil murder.

I suppose even more backstory is required lest you think I am not at all qualified to even mouth the word patience.  This particular story takes place during what my coworkers and I were beginning to call the shift from hell, and I had a few extra handicaps that assured me I had reached the hubs.  I had mentioned earlier how remote the location was, allow me to explain. Most people today who camp, or venture beyond the normal confines of civilization feel that they are “remote” when they lose cell phoneHelicopter sling load signal. This was far out and beyond that, I was in a truly remote location, by helicopter, a long ways.  All our supplies; tents, trikes (yes trikes, it was that long ago),food,fuel, etc was choppered in using  sling loads.  We slept in canvas tents and ate our meals around the fire. I know this could be a wonderful experience in the right situation, but not this time. The only time it quit raining was when it was sleeting and early hatchings of sandflies and mosquitos brave enough to fly were a constant plague.

We were swamped (literally and figuratively).  The weather continued to deteriorate, the choppers forestry campcouldn’t get to us, and we were running out of all supplies, even food.    We ended up working hard, in bad living conditions, and bad weather, for twenty four days in a row.  I think I can lay claim of least having an inkling of what being “bushed” feels like.  On top of these challenges, we all faced personal hardships. I had planned to go south and visit my girlfriend.  when your twenty, seeing your girlfriend is rather important.  I also had a raging case of, what I now know was, pinkeye, and the worst thing of all were my boots (whining? I am not whining, just letting my readers line up all the facts).

I had bought a brand new pair of rubber boots (what else do you wear in weather only suitable for arctic dwelling amphibians) for this shift, and the boots Unknown-7completely fell apart.  Both sides of each boot split vertically from the sole to the top band; bad rubber, bad timing, and positively nasty thoughts imagined.  Thoughts of where I was going to insert those boots when I went back to the guy who sold them…………..never mind.  My feet were wet, cold and nasty for 14 days straight, from the time I rolled out of my damp sleeping bag till I crawled back into it.  I couldn’t fix the boots, tried to no avail.  If I would have had a couple of rolls of duct tape I could have fixed the boots no problem.  We had some duct tape, but I had to leave a little on the roll for fixing leaky tents.  I kept the boots together using flagging ribbon, which helped a bit, but it didn’t seal the boots from water, grass, bark, spruce needles, bugs, etc.  Maybe the bugs were hatching in my boots come to think of it, but at any rate my feet were damned uncomfortable for a time just short of eternity. To this day the closest feeling to heaven for me is a dry, clean, warm pair of socks. Let’s move on, to the day of my meltdown.

Unknown-1    I was up, dressed in damp clothes, scavenged some food from a dwindling supply,  and had traveled (one creek and two muskeg crossings) to my first cutblock by mid-morning.  I slung on my gear and my shotgun (bear protection) and tied my topofil line to the marked corner of the block. Looking up the slope of the cutblock I could see this was going to be a rough slog. The cutblock had been blade scarified during the winter to prepare it for planting. The slash, deadfall, and tree tops had been heaped in long rows, in no particular pattern.

Here’s the thing with compassing and measuring your way to a particular point, you have to walk a straight line, and that meant I would spend much time climbing those piles.  If you ever get an urge to climb over an eight foot brush pile; don’t, just go lay down somewhere till the urge goes away.  Unfortunately I had to climb, not just this pile, but many others, all day.  Climbing those piles went with the job, so I took a compass shot and started out briskly, at the very least in an effort to keep warm.

When you walk with a topofil in your hand you can feel the vibration of the thread turning the wheel, hence you know you’re measuring your linear movement.  When the time comes to climb a brush pile however, its slow, and all you feel is precarious.  When I reached the top of the pile I looked down at my topofil, and no thread could be seen. I looked behind me,  there was the broken end drifting away from me in the rain.

images-3I moaned with frustration and climbed down again to grab the end of the thread. Sitting down on the sopping ground, trying to shield the innards of the cursed device from the rain, I opened up the topofil hoping to find that the string had broken just inside the box.  I could then knot the broken ends  together and carry on; no joy.  The end of the thread was next to the roll, it would have to be re-threaded through the topofil’s innards. The thread had to be pushed through various holes lined with glass tubes, wrapped twice around the wheel, re-tensioned, then pushed through the side of the box via another glass tube.

Sound easy?  Try doing all that in the rain and sleet while slapping at bugs, and, oh yeah; if the string gets wet it sticks to the sides of the tubes.  If you do get the string through the damp labyrinth, the wetness causes the string to slip on the wheel.  I was good at this though, plenty of practice, only slightly distracted by the flying insects wearing winter parkas and snorkels.

I am going to be merciful and cut these frustrating hours to a shortened and condensed version.  This happened over, and over, and over.  I can’t remember the exact ratio of how many times the thread broke while on top of a brush pile, compared to when the thread broke while slopping across level ground (which I felt right away), but the statistics were not conducive to mental health.

When I did reach a target plot I had to mark off a set area to do my job.  The job was to do a plant count in the plot and dig up a percentage of the trees to record the quality of the planting job. These duties were carried out in the intermittent rain/sleet, and growing frustration.  By mid-day I was definitely feeling picked on by karma/cosmos/GOD/luck or whatever; not that I was really analyzing what was plaguing my existence on the planet, but I must say I was feeling rather sorry for myself.  I guess that is an understatement, I was reaching a stage of insanity.  Rubber room, huggie jackets and all that.  I tried every combination of tension settings, reeling off yards of thread and throwing it away, changing rolls with fresh ones; you name it!  images-15

I had a coworker that swore you could make the machine work flawlessly by wrapping the thread twice around the wheel,making sure to cross the threads .  I told him his theory was pure superstition, as the threads would not stay crossed, he just replied that it worked for him.  Let me tell you I tried it that day, several times.  I tried triple wraps with crosses; hell, if a squirrel would have got in my way I would have sacrificed it on a stump to what ever unholy demon was possessing my topofil.

The final whiff of human reason left me late in the afternoon, while cresting a particularly bad brush pile.  I saw the thread snap and fly away at the same time I lost my balance and I tumbled down the far side.  The hated topofil flew out of my hand and clattered onto the top of a large rock just even with the ground.  My body was contorted and in pain, various  limbs integrating with the chaos of slash; I could hardly move, then my sore and bloodshot eyes  locked onto that hated devil machine laying on the top of that rock.  There was a calculated slowness with which I extricated myself, still staring intently at that orange box; there was no doubt in my fevered brain, it was going to die.

images That #**%$@ box of hardware was going to die a violent, painful death.  I was going to obliterate it in some way, then dig a deep grave with my bare, cold hands.  I was going to bury the hated remains, then tramp the dirt down hard with my shredded, slimy boots.  All my miseries, problems and woes  focused on that square orange box.  It was toast, I would see to that!   I began to unsling my shotgun, the plan forming in my head to blast the topofil to confetti in a hail of gunfire.

A sliver of sanity showed me a picture of buckshot ricocheting into my shins so I started to look for a rock as a means of topofil destruction.  No luck, a nice big log, wielded as a club, became a popular fantasy for mayhem, and I scanned the brush pile for a suitable cudgel.  The bleached top-end of a deadfall caught my eye and I grunted asimages-6 I headed for it. Tearing and pulling at that log gave me the only moment when I honestly think I understood the concept of “a red haze” of anger.  Even the bugs were scared of me and kept their distance, the cold rain seemed to sizzle as it lashed my face. In a word; I was pissed off!   Before mayhem could ensue, events conspired that stopped me cold.  In the physical world, the fierce weapon  I had chosen to demolish the topofil, fell apart, showering me in rotten bark splinters and diseased softened  pine wood.  At the exact same moment the log was disintegrating, I was overcome with how ridiculous I was acting, and began to laugh.  With the laughter came a clarity of thought (I told you I was a little bushed.)

I guess you could say after this I pulled myself together and carried on. I don’t remember if I actually  tried to use the topofil after that incident, but I remember going over and picking the topofil up, it had become just a machine housed in a plastic boxUnknown-5 again.  I don’t remember the rest of the work day, because it became a day of reflection.

I had to ponder the status change of the topofil, where was the real target of my anger?   To whom, or what, was I throwing the tantrum?  Life?  That is too general.  The cosmos?  Gimme a break.  I may as well of been throwing handfuls of that rotten log toward heaven shouting: “WHY are you doing this to me God!” I know it sounds shocking, but let’s face it, everybody who hasn’t been there…….will be eventually.  I think I found that place, inside of ourselves, where patience is found.

It is not a popular concept today, but the idea held sway for centuries, it’s found in the concept of the fear of God. Now wait, just hold on, this is not a sermon, just need to give credit where credit is most warranted.  The actual well from which one draws true patience is found in our own humility.  Humility is a by-product that flows within when we acknowledge the awesomeness of our Creator.  We can get around a “higher power” and simply make jokes of ourselves in order to cope, and lets face it learning to laugh at ourselves is good medicine. However, that medicine by itself, has limits to it’s healing power.

Unknown-11 We have some sad tales in our popular culture, tales of depressed, but talented comedians. They are tales of fear and loneliness being covered up with jokes that make other people laugh, and it made the comic feel good for awhile. The tragic ending to some of those comedians tells us that the funny bone is not the organ that needs healing.  A session of laughter, especially at ourselves, however, is important in the battle against self importance. Self importance kills the humility we need for true strength, patience, and inner peace. Something was missing in the lives of those famous comedians that went down the road of self destruction, and the missing ingredient was not humor.  These talented and funny people weren’t short of popularity either, they were loved, and even worshiped by the media, and the masses. It makes one realize that society may need to re-think the theories on the importance of self-esteem.  Maybe we’ve mixed destructive pride into the popular teachings of self-esteem.

Again we find ourselves at an unpopular topic,  nobody likes to even think about how our own pride leads us into trouble.  Nobody wants to talk about it yet we live in a world filled with the consequences of runaway pride. The majority of our societal woes can be traced back to pride, through pride’s children.  Greed, lust for power, envy, etc, are all the offspring of uncontrolled pride.  We have an entire society wanting to blame somebody for all the trouble, dammit!  Its not fair!  It’s not Right!  I’m going to sue/go to the press/pass a law/get a gun/pound your face in! There are also agitators in our society that have learned to stir up, and then control the power of the self-righteous and angry mob.  Chanting, sign waving, rock throwing crowds are a powerful weapon if they are controlled, I think Lenin called them “useful idiots.”  If you find yourself in such a crowd, lets hope your emotion is coupled with a great depth of understanding, unless you like being aimages-7 pawn, and a fool.

Yes, a fool, another word hardly used today. Strange that it isn’t used more as our culture seems to be filling up with so much foolishness.  The word “fool” is found throughout the bible, but one quote ties in nicely to our theme on patience.  It’s found in the same book of the Bible that inspired the Byrds and Pete Seeger to write the song “turn,turn,turn (to everything there is a season), the book of Ecclesiastes.  Verses eight and nine of chapter seven (along with my crude interpretations) go like this:

Better is the patient spirit than the lofty spirit. (Lofty, as in, you know, pride, maybe?)  Do not in spirit become quickly discontented, (don’t get all warped over things without thinking it through).  For discontent lodges in the bosom of a fool.  (a permanently self-righteous hothead is an idiot).

Of course there are reasons for passionate, or even righteous anger.  May God give you wisdom if you reach that point, God forbid if its because somebody 129038553240534380cuts you off in traffic.  On that miserable day in the rain I discovered the power of humility, and its ability to keep us sane. I was by myself, it was stupid to be mad at a box and pointless to be mad at God.  There is only one question that I’ve thought about.  If a materialistic minded atheist could understand my anger towards that topofil, and wanted to help me smash it to bits, who or what would they be upset about; Darwin?

BREAK/BREAK/BREAK- To all you technical guys out there saying:     OK, FINE, whatever. The question I have, is what exactly was WRONG with your topofil?

I know the secret and I’ll give ya all the details………… send me twenty bucks. Just kidding, but ya gotta read the next post.

Categories: patience | Tags: , , | 2 Comments

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