Guest Post by Hardscrabble Farmer
On the wall of our bedroom there hangs an old, oval photograph of my family. My paternal grandmother Emily stands with her younger sister Hazel, eyes fixed intently on the viewer. They are wearing dresses, probably their Sunday best judging from the looks of it, my grandmother’s waist tied with what looks like a sash, her hand placed protectively on her baby brother Irvin’s shoulder as he sits on his grandfather’s lap. Her father, William sits on an empty packing crate a hammer in one hand and shoe in the other and if you look closely you can see the nails held in his lips while he posed, stopped for the moment from his task at hand.
Dennis, who would have been my great-great grandfather, is wearing a worn out felt hat that looks remarkably similar to the one Jed Clampet wore in the Beverly Hillbillies, the brim soft with age and drooping around his white halo of hair. He wore a full white beard and well patched trousers. On his faced is a satisfied smirk that looks just like mine and his large gnarled hands hold his infant grandson upright, his baby-face wrapped in a white bonnet that suggests his mother dressed him for the photograph. Based on everyone’s age it was probably taken sometime near the end of the Great War, late Summer or early Fall.
Everyone in that photograph is long dead now, my grandmother having lived to see the skies empty of air traffic in the days that followed 9/11, her sister gone years before after a lengthy battle with emphysema, her baby brother killed by a German aircraft in the battle of Kasserine Pass in the early days of the Second World War. He father possessed, among many talents, a knack for carpentry and he died while working on the country home of Charles Lindbergh in the Sourland Mountains of New Jersey in 1932.
They say that he had a heart attack and that by the time he was brought back into town in the back of mule cart he was gone. Other than a yellowed obituary notice and the stories mt grandmother told me about him, nothing else but that photograph remains of him. His father Dennis, the ancient man in the photograph with the baby in his lap, survived six battles in two separate campaigns of the War Between the States before coming home to his family in 1865 where he never once left his hometown again until he too passed in the first years of The Great Depression.
Whenever I look at this oval photograph placed on the wall so that they look over us in our sleep I am transfixed by the connection between us; our blood and shared genetics that show in the eyes and the cheekbones and the large hands with well shaped fingers holding on to things. I see my grandmother as a girl instead of as the old woman I always knew and wonder about her life growing up in relative poverty by modern standards, but so obviously surrounded by love and kinship, rooted to place and connected to so many others before her in an endless lines that traces it’s beginnings back into the era when more Indians lived along the Delaware than Europeans. I often wonder what she must have thought of that time in which she lived and try to connect the stories she told me with that young face looking back out at me from the oval frame.
This morning two fathers will bring their sons up to our farm with them to help with the slaughter of a pig. They have been off and on customers of the farm before, but in the past month or so have become regular fixtures, stopping by to split firewood or target shoot down in the sand pit. Both families are from Boston and judging by their lake houses and new vehicles they have done well in the economy we formerly had in this country, but are now free-floating between what was and what is yet to come. They come up here I imagine as much for the distraction of doing something different as they do for the sausages and sides of bacon I sell them and the boys especially seem to enjoy the variety of tasks and pastimes the farm affords teenagers.
I show them how we turn the primal cuts into packages of chops and roasts, how to cut the meat from the bones and grind it or filet each portion for use. They were particularly excited to join us today to see the process from the front end, sticking the hog and eviscerating the carcass, scalding and scraping it in order to hang it to rest for a day or so before we finish it up into neat little packages that go in the freezer. Normally it would already be too warm this time of the year so we are taking advantage of the continuing run of cooler weather and intermittent snow squalls that have been with us all month. I’d like to say that The Plague Year has troubled us the same way it has everyone else, but that’s just not true.
It has been a boon to us, not only for the customers who previously overlooked the local farm that sells the same things they used to have at the grocery store, but for the number of people who show up just to help out. I appreciate the contributions more than I likely would because I feel like it offers me a way to pay back all the people who showed me how to do the things we’ve been doing for the last ten years. Instead of being the student I can teach a little of the skill sets I have cobbled together and hopefully give them a foundation for the life they will have to build going forward. Every day offers us an opportunity to solidify our standing in the community as a partner rather than as an atomized individuals who live in the same zip code, and from this real friendships have begun to take root.
I enjoy listening to other people’s stories as much as I like to tell them and it never fails to draw me in when someone shares the unlikely and circuitous routes they have taken in life to wind up working shoulder to shoulder with us at something that has value in the here and now. Our lives have not changed in any way since this recent panic took hold other than to prove to us that we made the right decisions a long time ago and that in having done it we gave ourselves somewhat of a head start in facing the coming changes to our social fabric.
I do not pretend to understand the motivations behind the long list of calamitous actions taken by government and corporate interests- I have my suspicions, but that means nothing. I do however know what it means for the future. I listened to the stories my grandmother told me about living in a world without money, where every meal was either pulled from the garden or brought down by a well placed bullet or reeled in after a perfectly timed cast on flat water. She lived through the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918 and somehow managed to put herself through nursing school in the midst of The Great Depression just after her father’s death, becoming an RN and a midwife in her town, something that kept her steadily employed for the next forty years of her life.
She told me what it was like to spend the better part of the year hunkered down in a small town cut off from the rest of the world, where no one was employed but no one went hungry either. I must have filed that away in some sacred part of my memory because it was part of the reason we made our move more than a decade ago when I thought that the economy was on its way out in 2008. I missed that call by large margin, but it also gave us more than enough time to learn from our mistakes, to figure out a new climate and terrain and how to maximize our efforts for the best return on our time. My grandmother’s investment has paid off in dividends.
About a year and a half into stand-up comedy, I was offered a two day gig in Atlantic City opening up for a big pop star at one of the largest venues in the State. The money was good, they only expected a five minute set- I was more of a glorified sound check than an opening act although I didn’t know that at the time- and it gave me a credit I could use to further my career. I remember being very excited at the thought of meeting X and when I arrived an hour early to the showroom I was given a five page contract to read and sign before anyone would even talk to me. Most guys would have just signed it an gone about their business, but I had never seen a contract with riders before and I read the entire thing.
Parts of it were great; payment made in cash at the end of each set, free meal at any of the casino’s restaurants, my own dressing room complete with fruit tray and drinks. Other parts struck me as odd. I could not make eye contact with X, nor was I to address X unless spoken to first nor could I could not mention X at any point except to introduce the performer at the end of my set.
I did my show, more or less, in front of thousands of screaming fans who were definitely not there to see some comic, but who were, nonetheless quite receptive. I got the credit I wanted for my resume, they paid me with an envelope of cash each time I walked offstage, and I ate some of the best meals I had ever experienced in a restaurant setting but I was miffed by the treatment on a personal level. If I was good enough to open for the pop icon, why did I have to look away if we happened to pass in the hallway? It seemed intentionally demeaning and after the final performance I took my money feeling kind of dirty and drove back to Philly with my tail between my legs. Instead of feeling uplifted by the experience I felt used.
It was a glimpse, I suppose, into the world of Us and Them, the unspoken yet very real distinction between those at the top and those who worked at the bottom. I wrote some great jokes about the experience and filed it away as just one of those things, but lately the memory has come back to me in light of our current situation. How someone further up the economic food chain makes the rules and imposes the restrictions and the rest of us just mindlessly follow the orders because our envelope full of cash, or our next meal ride on our compliance to their demands. The demands are capricious and arbitrary, but they serve a purpose- obey or suffer the consequences of failing to adhere to their hypocritical rules.
I am too old, too set in my ways to change how I operate in the world today. I look much more like that bearded old man in the photograph on my wall now than I do to the one’s of me back when I was doing stand-up and when I look into his eyes I see a reflection of myself. I won’t be wearing any masks or taking any vaccines, I will walk through the world the way I always have, not looking to offend, but neither will I put my head down and avert my eyes. I make sure that when I go out and leave the farm that my head is held up and there is a smile on my face and if some people in their surgical scrubs and hazmat suits find that troubling they will have to find a way to accommodate my behavior the same way I have learned to live with theirs.
The time we are entering into now presents us with as many opportunities as it does limitations and if we set our minds to the task this particular set of circumstances may give us what we were looking for all along. The old systems were too complex to weather a serious storm, the fragility of their imaginary constructions built into every aspect of the post-modern world waiting for the first real test to come along. While I do not believe any of the stories spun about the virus justifies any of the actions taken, it is what it is and this is the hand we’ve been dealt. I imagine that most of what we are witnessing is a form of warfare directed against an enemy that has yet to grasp that their is even a conflict at hand and those people are the ones that will suffer the most for their inability to discern reality from fiction.
It is our obligation to prepare the soil for what will emerge in the aftermath of this chaotic and hopelessly corrupt behemoth finally collapses under its own weight. So teach people what you know, plant your gardens, make friends with the farmers and the carpenters, give thanks for the families we have and the communities we inhabit and depend upon them instead of some man behind the curtain with the contract riders that prohibit you from casting a glance in their direction. This is not a catastrophe, this is a golden moment, a once in a lifetime opportunity to get back on track.
Whatever little there is to be saved, there is that much more to be gained by casting off the turpitude and rot that has built up over generations and left this once mighty nation so vulnerable and easily broken. Feed yourself, do without, make what you need or like my great grandfather did in that carefully posed shot taken in the dooryard more than a century ago, grab a tool and fix what is damaged with your own hands because that’s how it should be.
After I finish my coffee, I will wash my cup and place it on the sideboard to dry. Then it’s off to pen the hog that will feed my family and my neighbors and the day will unwind as all days do, the way they were meant to be, among friends who can look one another in the eye without masks working together for the common good.
I wanted to thank everyone who placed and order for maple syrup this season and to apologize to anyone who may have slipped through the cracks. I know we shipped several duplicate orders and missed a couple in their place, so if you received some syrup you didn’t request, keep it as a thank-you for your support and if you haven’t already received yours, please let us know and I will make a special effort to get it to you immediately. And for those who have never tried it, don’t let this opportunity pass- we had a spectacular year, this vintage was extraordinary and we still have some available.
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Agenda 2030 explains the events that are happening. Depopulation and a 1 world govt is the goal.
Wonderful essay as usual.
Thanks for the reminder to buy more syrup!
I believe that the opportunities presented by the virus will offset the harm in the long run.
In such a short time, we as a country have been made painfully aware of how fragile our food & goods delivery systems are, how we’ve given all of our manufacturing to foreigners, and how we have become very dependent on/compliant to our government. Things that were unthinkable just two months ago have smacked everyone upside the head. Constitution? Hmmm, only an afterthought now, if we don’t fight for it.
The pandemic is a chance to change direction, and also to realize that the important things are family, friends, and personal striving to be the best. Perhaps some will take this time to hone the skills needed & to reconnect with the important things in life. If there ever was a wakeup call, this pandemic is it.
The time we are entering into now presents us with as many opportunities as it does limitations and if we set our minds to the task this particular set of circumstances may give us what we were looking for all along.
That is our hope, and it is not groundless. Great article, HSF.
My. Thoughts. Exactly. These are indeed the cards we have been dealt. The time is at hand, we are the chosen generations. As the fourth turning states, this can go either way. I have faith that God will get us through this and we will come out of the other side of this storm all the better, all the stronger, and ultimately onto a plane of existence that future generations can use to become all the best that stirs within the soul of humanity. We are indeed the ones we have been waiting for. And thank you for the wonderful insight into your family tree, of the best kind of people. You brought them to life.
I understand your desire to be optimistic and to persevere in the midst of the coming storm.
I believe under the circumstances you are generally doing the necessary and the right things in your mindset and works of your hands.
But, I also believe that what is coming this time is truly different and literally of biblical proportion in accordance with prophesied holy scripture.
What has carried those through in decades and centuries past will not and cannot be enough this time.
Only a personal relationship with the Savior and Lord Jesus the Messiah will guarantee safe passage out or through.
EWS, consider: what IF, bible prophecy has already been fulfilled,
and this ‘end of the world as we know it revelation’ is being used as a
means to corral the sheople.
Not already fulfilled. Not even close.
A preterist lie from Satan.
Excellent. I always forward the most thought provoking and emotive writings of yours to my brother in Winnemucca, Nevada. He has a small ranch out there as is doing His best to become self sufficient and has succeeded to a large degree.
Your writings remind me of my childhood and spending many a summer in the mountains with my grandparents who taught me so much about woodcraft, gardening, Pioneer life, history and the best music ever created. I’m older now, 55 to be exact. I’m tired of this city life and the cards it has dealt me. Been single/alone for more than 20 years now after having reared (proper term) 4 kids as best a single man could. Now, it’s time for something new. Something quieter. Not sure where and really don’t care. It’s the method of living that I’m looking for not necessarily the spot on the map. Why did I say all of this? You inspired me. You brought it all back and now it’s time to jump into the cool, clear waters of real life. Many thanks, my friend.
What strikes me most forcefully about HSF’s words, and your response to them, is the transcendent HUMANITY that shines through. It is what we were and are meant to experience, but we’ve lost our way on the voyage for a long time. Perhaps that is what HSF is talking about as an opportunity; an opportunity to re-experience our humanity as is our right, as is our destiny.
His words, and yours, are what gives me hope for a future worth living in. How we get there, I have no idea. But the fact that human beings are able to bring forth inspiration like you both have is enough to hang my hat on today. Grateful thanks to you both.
I like these quotes in particular.
“Every day offers us an opportunity to solidify our standing in the community as a partner rather than as an atomized individuals who live in the same zip code…”
“I make sure that when I go out and leave the farm that my head is held up and there is a smile on my face and if some people in their surgical scrubs and hazmat suits find that troubling they will have to find a way to accommodate my behavior the same way I have learned to live with theirs.”
Romans 12:18 KJB… “If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.”
Sometimes others make that awfully difficult.
There are a few people here that I would like to have the pleasure to meet from this place some day. You have what might be to some have the misfortune of being one.. . And while you should expect an apology from me, it would need to be done face to face before any sitting down and having a beer. I want to start to say that your concern in the past for any mental failings some years back, did with some reflection on my part, come from a good place.
TheBurningPlatform has been transformative for me. I am embracing change as being good. It is after all what we are all supposed to do..The years have passed and with it a battle conducted for my soul. Mostly here unawares, some engaged grasping books, while others would just spread fear, some would ridicule, and yet thru it all, I am still here.
To those who still think I am skating on the fringes of sanity, well, they can rest assured that I am fine.
Finer in fact than I have ever been.
Maybe it is Odin that has shown me the way.
Or maybe I just got tired of running away.
Whether it the cause or cure I’ve been reborn in my youth!
One of my favourite movies growing up was Platoon. In it a young, green as the grass grunt, got dropped off on a dusty runway in Vietnam.. I was that guy here about ten years ago. For some reason I volunteered, not knowing why, but I did. In the closing scene of movie Chris talks about what he found in the battle for his soul. He was on helicopter going back to world..and the gravy
I regret spending over twenty years sitting on porch and whittling my life away but a fella can’t cry anymoar over split milk. I should never have fashioned myself Barnes when I am much better at being Elias. And while your Maple Syrup Sarge is the best far and it hopefully can be tasted again some day, I would only do it if I can shake the hand of a Man who helped, in however small a part, to show me the way.
I realize this is a bit corny but I did like the history of your family that you wrote about.
In it, I found connections that you are trying to repair from my story to my ancestors above.
Thanks!
Wow, that was heartfelt and I appreciate it very much. You don’t owe me any apologies and you are certainly welcome to drop by whenever the opportunity presents itself. I would really enjoy drinking a beer with you some day.
As a weird aside, Platoon is my all time favorite movie. Part of it because of just how close they got to what it’s like to be a grunt, but also because of how close they got to what it’s like to be a man. The struggle between Elias and Barnes is something everyone deals with if they actually want to understand themselves and no matter how many times I watch that film, I never come down on the same side twice. There’s the way it ought to be and there’s the way it is. That’s the Barnes in me
And as crazy as it seems, we’re all connected, back through the past and out into the ether by whatever it is that binds us together. I really get where you’re coming from.
And that’s the Elias in me.
That movie is exceptional; it is “Moby Dick” set in southeast asia! A similar yet interestingly different moral quandary is set forth in the movie “The Mission” (also released in 1986). We may all have to ask ourselves —most unfortunately —to pick who was right (DeNiro or Irons) as applied to the potential coming showdown on vaccines. Though I hope it does not come down to that of course. Enjoyed the article; well done!
HSF – You have an amazing way of taking a reader through your world.
You can take a description of an old family photo and make us feel like we live it too.
You can add a description of an event in your previous life as an entertainer and make us feel as though it happened to us.
You take your current situation and make us feel like we are a part of it.
You are a very good writer.
Good for you.
Watching that little video, then reading about how Trump is using National Emergency Powers Act to keep the slaughterhouses open and running has made me veer ever more heavily on the side of being a vegetarian. If we are what we eat, and what we eat is factory farmed meat, GMO grains and veggies, sugar, and deep fried grease, well, I can see where all those health issues are coming from.
My good friend and neighbor has a young beef, she’s going to have him slaughtered and asked me if I wanted some meat. Now, I’ve scratched that animal’s head, offered him tortillas and looked into his eyes. I cannot eat him.
Mygirl …
Well said girl.
SUPERB work as usual sir. Turning all of us that did not do the same green with envy. Further to another reality check, here.
The massively obscenely manipulated stock market is NOT the economy!!
https://www.artberman.com/2020/04/27/game-over-for-oil-the-economy-is-next/
Hardscrabble, got a couple questions. How do you kill your hogs. I figure you’ve thought about this quite a bit, and try to do it the most efficient and humane way. I’ve seen people shoot them in the brain. And my cousin would kill wild hogs after his dog grabbed them by stabbing them in the heart. Second, those riders aren’t as degrading as you might think. Difficult job, being a headliner. People have paid good money to see you, and you’ve got to go out there and kill it. I’ve watched lots of people get themselves ready for that moment, and lots of them are truly in a world of their own. I worked for a concert promoter when I was 17 or 18 years old, and we took care of the opening bands. Fetched them Burger King, got them beer, even occasionally did some laundry. And we weren’t allowed to get anywhere close to the headliners. And we worked there. They literally kept us on the other side of the building. And that’s how it was explained to us. Let them do their thing, they’re paying the bills.
Great explanation, Starsky. I think Hardy’s was a coming of age story, I’m sure he understands it better now.
He mentions sticking the pig, and he has also talked about slicing the hog’s neck. That’s about as real as I care to hear
Look up farmstead meatsmith on you tube. I also like the ones out of the carolinas where the whole holler pitches in. Most use a 22lr. I use 410 slug. I’ve never had one run off squealing and that’s important to me, but I also want to make head cheese so nothing bigger than that. A larger caliber would be overkill anyway unless it’s a big boar.
Paul Harvey addresses BYU in 1970.
Audio https://tinyurl.com/ybh9z9ja
So much I can relate to. Especially the photos of those long ago kin we never met but were told about by our parents, grandparents etc. My great great grandfather from the Civil War who stood 6’5″ and they were terrified he would be the first the Rebs would target. How at 70 he could carry a 200 lb. keg of salt under each arm. My great great uncle who died of the Yellow Jack in the Spanish-American War. His brother who drowned in the Snake River in an accident while running phone lines, and how another brother was killed the same day saving a woman and child from a runaway horse and wagon, 1,500 miles apart.
HSF, you are truly blessed as a writer and in so many other ways.
Thanks so much for writing, I especially liked:
“It is our obligation to prepare the soil…”
Glad your sugar making went well. This year I taught three of the Mennonite kids from the next ridge how to make syrup. Let them use 30 buckets and spiles, and they hauled their sap over and used my evaporator on the days I did not, and ended up cooking about ten gallons of syrup for their family. In return, they helped me tap trees, gather sap, and clean up at the end of the season.
May you & yours continue to be blessed.
I wear a mask with my head held high in buildings accessible to the public. Not to appease TPTB. Not because I’m afraid of getting some contagion. Not because I don’t care about freedom. But out of respect and courtesy to the other people in those buildings. Since the virus is spread asymptomatically I don’t know if I have the virus or not. If I have the virus and I don’t wear a mask I could leave it spread on all of the surfaces around me as well as sending it wafting through the air to potentially infect some of those people also using the public spaces even after I’m long gone. A mask won’t stop all of the virus but it might help some and it’s what I’ve got. You can call me a sheeple if you want but I think that not wearing a mask in public buildings is selfish and more than a little psychopathic. You care more about appearances, protesting perceived encroachments on your “freedom”, and your own convenience than you do about the people around you. Kind of pathetic, really. How does that make you better than the sheeple, exactly?
Annie, the medical term ‘inoculum’ refers to the viral load. Healthy immune systems can handle low inoculum but get overwhelmed with a high inoculum which leads to disease. I wear a face mask in public to reduce inoculum.
Annie,
1) Most people don’t know how to wear masks correctly.
2) Common surgical masks do not protect people from anything because viruses are small enough to “escape” through the pores of the mask.
3) WE CAN’T DISINFECT EVERYTHING WE TOUCH!
4) Exposure to viruses and bacteria are good for your immune system so that your B-cells can build a memory of the infection and respond accordingly in the future.
5) Your body is covered inside and out with viruses and bacteria so that you can live a healthy life.
6) Using hard-core disinfectants and germicides only contributes to mutations in viruses and bacteria.
7) MRSA went from only in hospitals into community acquired.
8) The medical system kills more people than any virus or bacteria.
9) I could go on……but I won’t.
1) Most people don’t know how to wear masks correctly.
I do. I’ll teach anyone who wants to know. It’s not rocket science
2) Common surgical masks do not protect people from anything because viruses are small enough to “escape” through the pores of the mask.
You think the virus flies out of your mouth on it’s own? LOL Respiratory droplets. Look it up.
3) WE CAN’T DISINFECT EVERYTHING WE TOUCH!
No reason not to disinfect or not infect everything we can. Look up viral load aka inoculum.
4) Exposure to viruses and bacteria are good for your immune system so that your B-cells can build a memory of the infection and respond accordingly in the future.
Exposure to a smaller viral load may be good for your immune system but a high load can cause a much more severe case of any disease because your body doesn’t have enough time to react before the virus multiplies throughout your body.
5) Your body is covered inside and out with viruses and bacteria so that you can live a healthy life.
Of course. Did I say anything about other viruses or bacteria? No. However studies have been done comparing the severity of flu outbreaks in societies that commonly wear masks to societies that don’t. The societies that commonly wear masks usually have much less severe flu outbreaks.
6) Using hard-core disinfectants and germicides only contributes to mutations in viruses and bacteria.
Did I say anything about disinfectants and germicides??? No.
7) MRSA went from only in hospitals into community acquired.
?
8) The medical system kills more people than any virus or bacteria.
All the more reason to try to reduce the number and severity of cases happening at any one time by using masks.
9) I could go on……but I won’t.
I can keep going if you want. You’re not doing a very good job of rebutting my original statements.
“Look up viral load aka inoculum.”
What?
Did you look them up?
What do you mean?
My God are you really that stupid??? If the viral load is lower you get a milder case of the disease so it’s no big deal. So it doesn’t matter if you can’t disinfect everything, disinfecting some is enough.
My God are you really that stupid???
Shut the fuck up Sheeple!!!!!!!! Every time I see fucks like you in a mask, I laugh my ass off. I see you pieces of shit everyday. Just get your ass in a boxcar and leave us alone.
My God are you really that stupid??? I see you pieces of shit every time I go out. Today at the grocery store some idiot girl without a mask coughing all over the bread. How f*n attractive. Does she really think she’s being cool or making a statement or something? Probably not thinking at all, just like you. You don’t want to wear a mask, stay home and leave me alone.
If this were a virus that affected 99% of young, old, middle-aged, healthy, and sick the same; then I’d wear a mask and stay home.
This virus affects a small subpopulation to a vastly greater degree than the bulk of the population. Still, our “heroes” in medicine and government can’t seem to keep the vulnerable safe even when they’re all gathered together in one place — e.g. nursing homes, hospitals, etc.
But what they can do is demand that the bulk of the population “shelter in place”, wash hands, wear masks, don’t venture outside, don’t go to work, don’t LIVE. This is the equivalent of placing everyone else in a bubble because of the existence of David Vetter.
I asked about peanuts because, based on your “logic”, if you eat them you could expose someone with extreme peanut allergies and MURDER them. So, knock it off with the Planter’s … permanently.
In reality, if someone knows they have a severe peanut allergy; then it is THEIR responsibility not to visit peanut farms. They’re not free to demand that the worldwide production and consumption of peanuts CEASE UTTERLY.
Again, based on your “logic”, no matter how safe a driver you are, the mere presence of your vehicle on the road could contribute to a fatal accident, so no one should drive … ever. It seems that, instead of taking drunk or otherwise unsafe drivers off the road, everyone else should cease driving to lessen the chances of an accident.
This virus has a massively disparate impact upon a small and KNOWN subset of the population. It is (A) their responsibility to keep themselves safe, not EVERYONE ELSE’s; and (B) the responsibility of the medical community and government to keep them SEPARATE and safe … and NOT to shut down life and the world economy to do so.
Clearly, they have utterly failed to do so, meanwhile crushing the economy and dismantling normal life for the bulk of the population who have only a small chance of life-threatening results from infection.
The resources of a FUNCTIONING economy could be rallied to the service of isolating (VOLUNTARILY) and keeping safe the vulnerable subset. Instead the economy has been disabled, everyone else’s life turned upside down, and everyone else’s rights curtailed.
So, I’ll answer for you. ARE YOU THAT STUPID???
YES. Yes you are. And so is the government. And so are the majority of Americans.
Color me shocked.
BTW, for any lawyers, this is exactly what is wrong and has always been wrong with the most literal interpretations of the “egg-shell skull rule”.
The only statements that equate viral load (amount of virus in the blood) in a one-to-one equivalency are in articles about coronavirus. They make this equivalency retroactively. That is, saying that if there’s a high viral load (in the blood) then the person must have had more virus exposure. Nothing mentioning the replication of the virus IN the bloodstream, or the dependency that may have on the strength or weakness of the person’s immune system at the time of infection.
It’s another case of “presumed” results that is reserved for this specific virus at this specific time. That is, they have ZERO proof what the viral exposure was, only a retroactive presumption that viral load (in the blood) must mean they had greater exposure.
It might be a logical assumption, but it’s one that cannot be proven unless the exact exposure is measured and known BEFOREHAND. It’s also an assumption that utterly discounts other factors that may make the viral load (in the blood) of one person differ from the viral load (in the blood) of another person given the same viral EXPOSURE for both people.
It’s a gratuitous assertion appearing in discussions of THIS VIRUS PARTICULARLY.
In other words, when you say “viral load” what you mean is viral exposure and NOT viral load.
ARE YOU REALLY THAT STUPID???
Inoculum is what is PLACED INTENTIONALLY into the bloodstream to CREATE (again, … INTENTIONALLY) a specific viral load in the bloodstream. That is, through INOCULATION a.k.a. VACCINATION.
Environmental EXPOSURE to a virus is NOT inoculum. You again wrongly conflate the two and misinterpret the meaning of “viral load”. Hence, my questions.
ARE YOU REALLY THAT STUPID, KAREN???
MRSA went from only in hospitals into community acquired. – DocK
That came out of left field.
Annie.
We know you could keep going. You’ve amply demonstrated your endless capacity for self pity disguised as Virtue signaling.
Annie, your consideration for others is still fear. Obviously justifiable in your mindset but fearful nonetheless.
Some dont do fear, every bit as justifiable for the health of the community as you imagine the fearful to be.
So if I’m wrong I look silly. If you’re wrong you kill people. I’d rather look silly.
Do you drive a car? Are you a good driver?
Have you ever had the flu?
Do you eat peanuts?
Do you read your comment before posting? – Prof Fleabaggs
C
What about the comment? I explained Virtue signaling to her, so what’s the deal with you?
Are you the anonymous I was addressing? I meant that his questions are vague to the point of pointlessness. I thought if he re-read them without the inner dialog, he would see they make no sense.
Oh. My bad. Sorry.
I’m just a harmless little troll focusing on spelling or grammatical errors. You could say I never got over Stucky’s criticism of my syntax and am now a nervous little mouse badgering others over their minor mistakes. It gives my puny life meaning to save commenters from getting criticized for bad syntax.
“Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around—nobody big, I mean—except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff—I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be. I know it’s crazy.”
They only make sense if you answer them honestly.
Commenter Toirdhealbheach Beucail gets it. His comment is below.
You want it, you got it, … Toyota!! (above)
I didn’t call you a sheeple Annie and if a mask makes you feel more comfortable than you should wear one.
I just wanted to share my story because almost everything we hear these days is doom and gloom. I just don’t see it that way and wanted to give people something positive to hang on to. I think you’re going to be just fine no matter what happens.
I see wearing a mask as respect for others. Something positive. I see refusal to wear a mask as aggression against other people. Hardly something positive. I know my point of view is not popular here, but I would rather promote common sense than be popular. Oh, and in my previous comment I meant “you” in general for all people who refuse to wear masks not necessarily you specifically. I’ve been getting lots of nasty comments from people when the subject of masks is brought up.
Nothing about this whole situation screams “common sense”.
Rather than wearing a mask, why don’t you just remain in your home indefinitely?
No matter what ppe you wear, there is a non-zero risk of you spreading infection.
Do you think masks are the end of this?
Mandatory testing – possibly daily; forced vaccinations; constant real-time tracking of where you go, what you do, and who you associate with or even come near; fines or jail for leaving your home; fines or jail for going to work; fines or jail for not wearing a mask; involuntary quarantine of anyone testing positive.
You see wearing a mask and others not wearing a mask as an opportunity to feel morally superior and to equate unknowingly being a vector of a disease with murder.
You are here to virtue signal, Karen.
Once you accumulate 100 down-votes and suffered the slings and arrows of 100 nasty comments, Admin will endow you with membership in TBP’s hallowed inner circle of misfits. Keep counting and eat your Ovaltine. Only a few make it, though.
Many have tried, many have failed. – Doc Pangloss
Sorry, I consider the Wearing of the Mask to be a temporary tattoo of slavery. Soon to be permanent.
Just my $.02.
Just because they shouldn’t be forcing people to wear masks in all instances doesn’t mean that wearing a mask isn’t the right thing to do in some instances.
My kid of 24 in a large central Florida city wears one out of common courtesy. They’re a caring feeling generation that isn’t looking at themselves as being duped by any of this. I’m not so sure but if it doesn’t hurt anyone…it does make me wonder what else might be in store for his ilk down the road though.
Absolutely I could see wearing one if I was infirmed and out in public. It’s the duty of the individual to self-quarantine if at risk. I can also see govt. quarantining sick individuals. That’s what we had sanatoriums for.
But to forcibly quarantine healthy individuals or scare the shit out of everyone, *especially* after claiming masks are useless except for medical professionals? Nope.
I’d rather die on my feet of X, whatever X may be. Fuck ’em all with a rusty chainsaw sideways. It’s not that I have a death wish. I don’t. I love life, warts and all. But I am NOT going to be backed into a corner ever again. It’s bad enough they usher people around like chattel in the airports. And now in local community stores?
One person’s charitable contribution of wearing a mask is another’s outrageous tax burden every year. And I’m goddamn sick and tired of not being thanked for what *I* have contributed.
Someone we’ve all heard of coined the phrase “Prison Planet” and about that, at least, he wasn’t wrong. All of this is compliance training and enforcement, nothing more.
We older guys have more to lose and at the same time have less to lose. I believe it is up to us to pay it forward.
Which instances? When? Who made you the judge? If not you, then who? W.H.O.?
and …
Why shouldn’t they be forcing people to wear masks? If not wearing a mask without knowing you’re negative is the equivalent of murder; then why not?
Have you ever had the flu?
I love your maple syrup HSF! Thank you for all the hard work to make it available.
Since my services as a Doctor of Oriental Medicine have been put “on hold” since mid-March I’ve revisited gardening. Learning more about soil and pH than I ever thought I should know. My soil sucks! My goal is to grow more food than I need and enough to share with friends. Horse manure is so wonderful but I don’t have my horses anymore – they went to other homes in the 2008 idiocracy. Now it’s a trip to a neighbor to pick up poop. Fun stuff.
I almost cannot imagine going back to my office once the orders are lifted – I’m having that much fun with dirt and a very tiny budget. Let’s see how all these food shortages work out. Real or imagined?
you’ve exposed your soul AGAIN and mine joins you in its song…. that’s the best I can do in trying to capture what your story mean to me… because your words bring me to tears .. they fill me with hope.. give me a chance to share your peace… thank you – may GOD BLESS and Protect you&yours… SEMPER FI…
Your writings are genteel and it’s a pleasure to read them. I especially like stories about who you are and where you came from. Ultimately all that matters in this world is who and what we are.
Thanks HSF, you made me remember my grandma who was an Army Nurse in WWI and quite the flamboyant one until my grandpa, an Army motor pool operator, caught her eye, and one can only suppose, gave her a ride. I’ll have to dig those old albums out soon.
Not to mention some other projects we can share with farm food customers pretty soon now. I’m doing a pretty serious horseshoe court project in the glade behind the shed and I’ll make a show of it, step by step.
Leo Kottke – Jack Gets Up Lyrics
https://www.lyr1cs.com/leo-kottke/jack-gets-up-lyrics
Great writing HSF
Oh no, HSF! Does this mean I won’t be getting my gallon down here in TN???
Email me if you haven’t received it by tomorrow.
HSF , I am surrounded by pictures of my forebears going back over 130yr. Like the portrait you described of your family those portraits I can see in my home glow with the honesty of the life they lived and the interior strength they had as people who lived life as it was handed to them.
I am hopeful that my children and grandchildren have the steel they need in this new world to not cave in and wither away.
Nice work on your part to tie it all together we cannot lean on complexity as version of life we need to clean out the crap and get back to basics.
Thank you
Best piece I’ve read in a long time. I’ve noticed that segments of the population are starting to get ‘it’. Those who do will shrug off the old power structures (that are failing anyways), find new ways and build something better. The rest will probably rot in their basements, living in fear of both the unknown and their own mortality.
The wheat is about to separate from the chaff.
I listened to the stories my grandmother told me about living in a world without money, where every meal was either pulled from the garden or brought down by a well placed bullet or reeled in after a perfectly timed cast on flat water
I went fishing with my brother on Sunday, haven’t fished with him in years, so I jumped at the chance when he invited me. The weather was perfect, plenty of sunshine ( vitamin D) we caught a few fish, but it was great hanging out with my brother.
His fish finder is not working well so I bought him a new one today along with some crab traps, I was super jazzed about it I called him to tell him, he said I didn’t have to, but I said it was a birthday present, were going out again in two weeks. I love fishing and gardening, what else is there?
HSF, great read again!!
Reading this really calmed me down and allowed me to refocus.
Thank you HSF.
I wish we could have started a farm where we are now ten years ago. Things being what they were it just wasn’t the right time. It sure does take a long time to learn how and what to grow in the particular parcel we ended up in.
I agree there is a golden opportunity to create closer relations with our neighbors and support the small towns nearby. I’m holding out with a bit of pessimism, though. I’m pretty sure the state and federal govs will interfere with this process. I’m not sure exactly how this is all going to shake out. The light at the end of the tunnel could very well be a train.
Btw, I started this comment when the count was 15 yesterday and got distracted. It was still there when I came back to it this morning.
Nevermind
The usual from HSF…and I mean excellence. What a great story and moral to the story. Self reliance and toughness is a lot more rare today than it was 100 years ago. Sooner or later peoplewho are not like those in the picture will meet Mr. Darwin. He will be collecting the price to be paid.
I once read a definition of depression as a result of anger and fatigue. That seems about right. Personally, I’m sick of COVID-19 dominating the headlines and I do have inner rage at the magic spell that’s been cast over society.
And, for obvious reasons, I’ve been thinking of the autistic livestock guru Temple Grandson and how she pioneered more humane methods of leading animals to slaughter. One of the methods was to have cattle march to their demise single file via tall shutes. To me that sort of isolation seems reminiscent of what’s occurring in America now – with people staring at walls, muzzled by masks, and following orders while remaining six-feet apart.
How can people resist when they’re fooled? How will they fight back when they’re frightened? When they’ve placed their hope in safety rather than liberty?
Perhaps real hope remains in the decisions made every day. And may all reading this be surrounded by those who know Epstein didn’t kill himself.
“I once read a definition of depression as a result of anger and fatigue.”
The two times I have been depressed, it was due to a loss. After I dumped my GF, I went into a long depression. Another time was when I found out I had diabetes and could possibly die. Neither of those occasions involved anger or fatigue. Just loss.
That’s probably why economic loss leads to a ‘depression’ which my grandpa referred to as a ‘crisis’ and modern economists call a recession.
There is definitely a “loss” aspect to it all – especially when considering younger generations. Poor kids. Quaranteenagers, in particular. They were raised on silver spoons and participation trophies. But now their American dreams have been eclipsed. It was supposed to be a season of grad parties, weddings, and Fourth of July celebrations. But these have been displaced by lockdowns, social distancing, bodies in refrigerated trucks, fear, magic spells, and propaganda. Recession is reminiscent of retreat or falling into a pit (depression) Sorry you had to dump your gay friend but is probably a good thing the sexy mulatta straightened you back up. 🙂
I might have been happy with a gay friend like you had, Undifferentiated. Unfortunately, it was an Unstable bitch. You wouldn’t Understand, Unexploited.
The writer uses the pen name Next Stop Willoughby in an allusion to a line from episode 30, season 1 of The Twilight Zone. The story concerns a frustrated and overworked businessman married to a harridan and living in the closed confines of a large metropolis. After a particularly bad day at work, Gart Williams is publicly humiliated by his boss and abruptly storms out of the office. He is haunted by his bosses refrain to push, push, push as he takes the train home. Drowsing off in exhaustion he awakens suddenly to find himself carried back in time to a pastoral community in the Summer of 1888. The conductor informs him that he has arrived at Willoughby, the last stop on the line, further stating that it is, a lovely little village, you should try it sometime; peaceful, restful, where a man can slow down to a walk and live his life full measure.
This is, of course an allusion within an allusion as Next Stop Willoughby is in fact referring to the words of the author’s essay, wherein he describes a time a place and the kind of people to be found in the village of Willoughby. In the world outside of it there are people and events, like Mr Misrell, who insist on domineering and badgering those beneath him, the constant refrain of Push, push, push a capricious order, much like those who insist on others maintaining social distance or wearing masks.
The question is not that the screen name Next Stop Willoughby makes the connection between the two stories, but rather is it an insult or an homage? Or is it a subliminal tell, a shared connection, much like Jung’s Collective Sub-conscience, the objective psyche that repeats themes and imagery without our knowledge. Much as Gart Williams must first fall asleep in the cold and alienated present before he can wake up to a new reality in the warm and comforting past, Next Stop Willoughby uses a set of alliterative devices addressed to someone else in the thread not so much to demonstrate his linguistic skills, but to unwittingly convey the deeper meaning hidden in his handle. The nick could easily be assumed to cast a sardonic wink at the essay’s author, or it could reveal the deeper parallel between both the writer and the critic, just as Gart does with his two selves as he tries to reconcile his dream world in Willoughby with the status seeking, consumer driven, automated world of his present existence. Perhaps the bracketed reference to EC, hidden behind the larger than life Next Stop Willoughby, is actually a reference to the patient and beatific conductor who serves to relate the conscious mind of Gart- sure, sure, I’m fine– and the dream world version of his Id that longs only for the simpler, far more rewarding life of Willoughby.
Maybe it’s wishful thinking nestled in a hidden part of a man’s mind, or maybe it’s the last stop in the vast design of things…
Perhaps we can all get off the train at the next stop and leave this world behind to live in that simpler time, Next Stop, Willoughby.
Profoundly enjoyable and thought-provoking stuff right there. And good to see a dissection of the wily coyote; a sly and unappreciated one is he.
Awesome! To him, he stepped off into an idyllic scene, to the passengers left on the train, he jumped and committed suicide. Before we go, though, we are left with Hamlet’s doubt, what lies beyond? Beautiful dreams or Haruki Murakami’s town of cats?
My tormentor at the moment and for the past month is my stomach. The doc said it was gastritis before changing it to acute pancreatitis. It’s the kind of unremitting pain that makes one long to step off the train.
Unc, the girl wasn’t even worth it. After I got over the depression, I had moments when I laughed at myself until I cried. The worst pain ever comes from inside. The most exquisite moments also come from inside and many times they are not shared with anybody else, the Grecian Urn cannot feel the poet’s love though he uses the most beautiful language in an effort to express it.
I hope that you feel better.
That was my best EC impression, a sincere homage.
We may have to retreat to feudalism.
The forces of evil have been with us forever. How to hold them at bay?
In ancient times a warrior would pick a parcel of land. Build a fortress on it; staff it with seasoned warriors to hold the walls. Capture or kill the local bandits, work his estate, trade and build. Eventually people would notice; his estate would be more prosperous, his family would not starve, his warriors would keep the peace. His holdings would increase; people would come and stay to open up shops, trade and build, raise families. A good steward would make not only himself prosperous, but all who lived near him; criminals would pay, honest men and women would prosper, children would grow up strong and beautiful. Towns were built this way.
We may see it again, as a resort to deal with the pedophiles, the grifters, the takers and the liars when D.C. won’t or can’t. Who would you rather live under, Carlos the Good Squire or Carlos Danger? And when the “just-us” system lets Carlos Danger walk, again and again, what do you do?
Interesting times, in every Chinese sense of the phrase.
I am humbled. I should hang up my analytical tools and go on back to school.
I had to read your analysis a third time. You make a mountain out of a molehill and it is an impressive feat, using detective skills in noticing tell-tale tics in a person’s narration.
I have been watching Sunset Blvd for some time now. My latest observation is that the guy unwittingly enters into a spider’s web that he never escapes. While Mrs. Robinson allowed Benjamin to escape, to seek out the younger girl, this older woman – Norma is true to her black widow nature.
That is my Ben at the bank moment, talking into a recorder asking if the teller is worthy. But I’m an old man, more like Don Quixote, dreaming of a beautiful Aldonza that he has adorned with unmatched qualities. Perhaps Sancho has a better grasp of reality when he describes Dulcinea as riding a donkey like a skilled cowhand.
Too late, I learned that women are a menace. I keep watching SB and replaying in my mind a story that seems like a scratched record. The song is old, out of fashion and the band members like Morrison died or like Jagger should have retired long ago. There is no coming back or returning to the big screen, only playing to an empty house.
——–
This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more:
The bond of blood. To me that is what old pictures embody and what makes them different than looking at history books. Those are my people and that is my history.
Old photos also make apparent that my being here is because of the extremely long odds the people in those pictures met and raised a family. They faced trials that make our present soap operas look quite trivial, which they are when kept in proper perspective.
My grandmother had an amazing collection of old photographs. Some of them were glass plates, not even on paper. She knew the names of those people and how they were linked to me even though they had passed long before even her own parents were born.
Will our digital photographs become family treasures when they, and our history, can be deleted with a few keystrokes?
I have a much older friend that is very well read in several languages. He spent his teens and early twenties at monastary and was to become a priest. One week before receiving his commission, after more than 10 years of residency, he declined and left monastary.
After several interesting jobs & degrees, he eventually became a psychologist. Conversing with him gives me a small glimpse of Solomon’s wisdom. He frequently mentions mindfulness.
HSF, I believe you live a state of mindfulness and through your essays the readers, however briefly, also achieve that. You have a special gift. Thank you for sharing it with us hoi polloi.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzH5HgdTCfE
Thanks for the thoughtful post as always. This fall I hunted a ridge on opening day. I like to be somewhere that I can watch the sun rise when it seems I can’t sit for another second more (opening morning was 7f here). Sitting on a rock looking eastward in the dark dawn I heard a large branch snap (if you spend a time in the woods you learn to differentiate important sounds & levels). When the branch snapped I remembered a friend had told me that a large (400-500) pound black bear had recently been raiding dumpsters on the other side of the ridge where there are some homes. Not much else sounds like a big bear moving through the woods. In that moment sitting in the dark with my loaded rifle in my lap I realized my own mortality, my place on God’s earth. None of us will get to choose the moment but we do get to choose to look toward the sunrise. That morning the sunrise was spectacular. It will stay with me forever. Your articles also take me to that place and I’m grateful to read them. I keep meaning to get to your farm some day and hopefully will. I added to my layer flock yesterday. I originally went for meat birds but they didn’t have any so I switched gears and found a different way to get some more protein in before the fall comes.
Thanks again.
To all the people here virtue signalling about how they’re exercising their freedom by not wearing a mask in public buildings. One person walking through the Walmart spreading virus was responsible for this. Aren’t you glad that that person exercised their freedom? How proud that person must be that they got a whole bunch of people sick and closed down a Walmart. SMH https://www.wmur.com/article/massachusetts-walmart-closed-after-23-employees-test-positive-for-coronavirus/32330970
I suppose my question is, when does it end? The estimate of the 2019-2020 Flu Season deaths is between 29,000 and 59,000 (https://www.health.com/condition/cold-flu-sinus/how-many-people-die-of-the-flu-every-year). By this logic, we should – all the time – wear masks. Honestly, are the deaths by flu any less real than deaths by Covid-19? If anyone that does not wear a mask is stained by the mark of being selfish, then logically it should extend to every infectious disease.
Because now, the new moral imperative is “if it saves a single life, it is worth it”.
If you read the Red Dawn link, neither the wars or the weaponized SARS virus will end.
She – Do you have a condom?
He – I’m wearing it.
It is not worth it. People die. We all die. We all will die. More from suicide from losing jobs, more from abuse from living with druggies, more from depression, more from just boredom doing stupid shit. This is all just horse shit, has happened before, is just another flu, and is indicated by the numbers. Those homemade masks that everyone makes because “we are all in this together in this trying time” are less than 10% effective. They are bullshit. Annie, take your mask and shove it up your ass. Virtue signalling? Dear Lord, most people have been exposed and there are no symptoms. Here’s hoping Billy Gates comes up with a vaccine and you are first in line. Come to my house with a vaccine, and MR. AR comes out.
Do you work for Tall Deval? It’s gonna get around no matter what. Deal with it. Masks don’t do shit except make you into a sheep. baaaaaaaaaanniiieeeee baaaaaaaah.
Lovely post.
100. I win
Night Terrors
Harper Eliot
In the middle of the night
I cry out in the deep, dark cold
Haunted by the fierce gargoyles of fright
That guard the pylons of my soul.
Why have I lost my way
Through the forest of my dreams
As so many dragons I must slay
With those night terror screams.
Last evening’s storms now just a memory
As a patchy blue sky greets the day
With it’s secret hint of eternity
Carried by the morning sun’s rays.
In my front yard the robin family greets me
As the morning mists part
Above the canopy of flowering pear tree
Lifting our heavy hearts.
The day is young and pregnant with joy
As I dance with the gremlins of eternity
That disrupt time’s hands coy
Raising the goose bumps of infinity.
Neighbors smile and commiserate
As life goes by and by
And the heart alas does exonerate
The swirling tempest of lies.
A new world emerges
From the ashes of the past
As the winds of fate converge
On a civilization that could not last.
We must dream anew
The noble aspirations of our race
Through these times turned blue
Imploring heaven’s grace.
For with the loom of eternity
We can weave a better world
Honoring our debt to Sophia’s maternity
With our starry flag furled.
Our Empire now gone
We must find a new way
Singing our tortured love song
To the break of each new day.
Then part the mists of morning madness
Revealing a phantasm of the future
That with renewed hope and gladness
Will our mortal wounds suture.
As we rise from our knees
To awaken from this nightmare dream
Of blissful suffering and agony
Riding the rapids of the eternal stream.
We get a glimpse of a photograph taken sometime around WW1. The author takes us on a short trip to his ancestor’s home near the banks of the Delaware which was crowded with Lenape wigwams. This was a time before there was an America, when the only government was in heaven and there was no national deity surrounded by media priests and government goons.
He describes hardy, self-sufficient folks like Dennis, a Civil War veteran, and his grandson Irvin fighting in Tunisia in WW2. We see William, so affected by the abduction and murder of the Lindberg’s baby that he suffers a heart attack while working on the home of the man who proved that transatlantic flight was possible.
We meet Emily, his grandmother, who has that spirit of self-reliance. Left to her own resources after her father’s heart attack, she becomes a nurse in a small town where people work hard to survive the depression.
It’s as if flight bring death with it as it did for Icarus, as a plane does for Irvin in North Africa. We also see Emily in the twilight of her life watching the skies once again empty of airplanes that brought death to Americans after the airplane attack on NYC.
This is a place where people deal with their problems with their own efforts. Now that planes have brought the threat of death to Americans, its no doubt the author’s stock with its deep roots in this land will be here long after America and its shallow egotists are gone.
We are all the FSA now, to hell with our ancestors.
We are all the FSA now, to hell with our kids. – ILuv2C(hicken) O(ut)
Fixed it for you, fat boy.