To borrow a phrase...

...some late night thoughts..
The more I read about the 'hell in a handbasket' approach that seems to be the governments strategy to 'fixing' this crisis I wonder what the 'people' are to do? It seems we are pretty much on our own, to formulate our own plan for survival, and to remain safe till the 'empire' that is the United States crumbles into the dust. No, I never imagined I'd see the death of this republic in my lifetime but I fear that just might happen.

People are what makes a country, and the majority of the people have a great amount of wisdom and common sense. There is a fringe element that while making a lot of noise is a minority, and they can be dealt with in whatever manner they choose. There will be those who survive because of skills they have developed to survive. They have the ability to make things, to grow things, to hunt, to fish, and work the land. There are many who without a store will starve. They were not blessed with any knowledge of the world around them and because of their ignorance never sought such knowledge.

Some regions and some cities may have the collective will to survive in the future. Something about the spirit of man that makes some people come together and seek community. We can see this in a few cities and as a child and adult I've found it in parts of rural America.

I keep wondering when our government will go too far, they are now standing on the cliff, looking to the future. One step and they fail, and we suffer abuse under a fascist regime. If they recognize their need to have the peole on their side, they can bridge the chasm, and usher in a new era, where we learn to work together for the common good, as a nation. Will that happen? I don't see it happening before we suffer as a people. There are too many who put self ntersted before common interest and will only change after they have failed or been defeated.

Hesse are but random thought pushed onto electronic paper, I'll come back to this and take a second look after a bit of time to mull over what I just wrote. I have some ideas, I need to seek a safe place, I need to work on a better way to live. I guess it is all part of the aging process, the reflection on past life, the hope for a better tomorrow, but as always my brain is working overtime.

Maybe more later. I have no fear of the future, I look forward to it.

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drones

In the next 90 days local police agencies will be able to launch their own drones... now the big question is how soon before we have some criminal element launch a counter attack... next we will have to have air support for drones as these toys are going to cost millions to operatre. I guess now is the time to discover how to intercept the video of these drone... can't you see someone live streaming the video from one of these. I wonder how long before someone cracks the software and gains control of a drone?

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More...

It seems that life is taking more from us as we struggle in this disfunctional world. Our environment is in distress, our food is threatened, and even something so vital to life as water is becoming scarce.

I grew up in simple times, a rural existence, close to nature, with woods to roam through, streams so pure you didn't worry about drinking the water. Natures bounty was there for the picking. We had wintergreen growing wild, then there were blueberries, raspberrys, blackberries, cherries, apples. When I was a kid and needed a snack, I just took a walk. We saw deer, bear, raccoons, skunks, rabbits and other wildlife in our yard. We played in the barn, sliding down from the loft on a pile of hay. I went to a 4 room school house. There were two grades per room. We had at least three school plays a year, I remember learning my lines at school, then the big night when we would perform and the whole town would come out to watch. I remember the county fairs, the fireworks in Bar Harbor on the 4th of July. I remember fishing, following a small brook in search of trout, sometimes for miles into the woods. In winter I remember cold walks to the busstop or even to school. I remember taking my sled up the hill and sliding down n the ice covered road. I remember getting my first "flying saucer" and sliding down a long chute we had carefully groomed on Blueberry Hill...I remember not having ndoor plumbing, and having to go to the outhouse.. Nothing like the thrill of sitting in the freezing cold. I remember the old wood cooking stove in the kitchen. It was a gray porcelain Atlantic. I remember heating water for bath time, and filling the tub with a bucket, adding hot water to find the ideal temperature. After that we would stand in our robes in front of the fire, getting dry and warm at the same time. I remember going with my dad to get wood.. We would work a lot of weekends in summer gathering the stuff that would make winters survivable. I had a bike, but with gravel roads and only one speed, any ride was an adventure. I would ride over to a friends place or out to Donnell's Pond. I remember trips to Alder Brook to get water or to fish. I remember when we would go smelting (catching smelt with a net) or when the local men would build the Alwive trap to catch then smoke the Alewives for eating. I remember going to Trenton to visit my uncle and going clamming. Armed with a study spade fork we would dig in the mud flats to gather cherrystone clams and later celebrate with a clambake or some good New England Clam Chowder. I grew up eating lobster.. My uncles all were lobster fisherman so we had lobster regularly. I remember going to the boathouse and watching my uncles build boats. I remember trips out on the sea to pull the lobster traps from the depths, and harvest the bounty of the sea. I remember flounder fishing from the base of the Sullivan bridge.

I could go on and on, the first twelve years of my like were an adventure, something children of this day can never realize. I now think with the world going to hell fast, that a small cabin in the Maine woods wouldn't be such a bad way to spend my final years. Sure winter can be rough, I know from the times I saw my Dad struggle to go the five miles to work. No, to live out days living as in Golden Pond, hunting the elusive trout, hiking through the woods, maybe hunting for a deer to have meat in the freezer. I can dream at least.

Posted on Dreamwidth