Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it – no matter if I have said it! – except it agree with your own reason and your own common sense.” – Siddhartha Gautama, a.k.a. the Buddha

PEOTWAWKI

Personal end of the world as we know it, is the acronym. 

We all have our life changing points, some easier, some harder. Mine came in August 2008. No need to dwell on the details, the past is just that, past. But some of the events were much farther reaching than just my little world. Obama, for example.  His ascension to that lofty position was the warning bell that so many failed to hear. His speeches warned those of us trained to hear words as they mean, not as implied.  He didn’t lie in those speeches, he said exactly what he meant to say, it was the audience that misconstrued the words.  That level of misdirection, and it was intentional, is just flat evil. 

Here we are, 8 years later and I am ruminating of the past.  My projects can wait a few as I get my thoughts in order and make sure my rudder is holding course. Looking back sometimes helps me ensure that course, or if I need to make a correction. 

Analogies are often suspect, but such great tools for giving personality to a post, 😆.

So where am I going with this?  I dunno, just rambling to be honest.  I look back at the last 40+years and see how dramatic the changes have been. Especially over the last 15, those changes are downright scary. Look at it this way: there are kids, of voting age this year, that do not know or understand ANYTHING but our current police state. They don’t know what it’s like to walk into an airport and walk out to the terminal to meet a friend. They have no clue about walking into an airport without waiting in mile long lines to be patted down and body scanned.  

They have no clue how to be free, truly free, without a nanny hanging over every act and deed.

And the thought probably scares the shit out of most of them.

These are the people who will have our futures just as we have(had) our parents futures.  They will be the ones to take care of us in our twilight years.

And if that thought doesn’t give you chills, you are probably already on that threshold. I know that thought has a lot to do with the course I have been steering.  And the winds that move me are the lack of direction in the freedom movements. (Take your pick of names, the herd of cats is the same).

And there is always that sniggling doubt of ‘no man is an island’.  This I know, probably too well.  I can make the coolest toys in the world, but if I don’t have clients, I starve. (Figuratively,  I will have gardens, but there needs to be more than just veggies, and materials I use to make those toys, don’t grow out of the ground either.)

Fact is, I don’t have any solutions, or more specific, the solutions I do have are of a near impossible sort.  “Local local local ” has been a mantra for a few years,  but that means having like minded people locally.  The local around here is very adaptive, but most don’t plan past the next morning and a majority have such a shabby education, what is reality to them is the only thing they can imagine.  They are dogfood when things get rough, really rough.  Some will do alright, at least those that spent some time at pa-paws knee listening to old stories. The rest, the pillheads, the 4th generation welfare types: fertilizer! 

Shift gears for a minute.  Conversation with a bud from work: “So, what would you buy if ya hit the lotto?”

Me:”I would purchase that old school house up the road and open a private school for free for those that would pass the entry exam.  I would use the first million just for hiring 4 teachers that actually could teach, and loved teaching for teachings sake.”

Bud:” shit man, you’d be broke in a year!”

Me:”very likely, but I would have planted a seed here, and if it took off, I would be pleased and it would have been worth it.  If not, well, I would have tried and that accounts for something too.”

It ain’t ever going to happen, and not just because it’s so unlikely to hit the lotto.  I never play it, ergo, I can never win it. 

Back to drive gear.  I harp about the crap-ass education and I am not the only one.  A lot of people that do complain, never do what needs done, ie taking our kids back and teaching them from home; all due to a myriad of reasons.   Mostly due to the fact that our economy is such that it takes both parents to make enough to pay for the life to raise kids.

Actually, that’s a myth. If the sacrifice of not living an endebted life is not too high, there are solutions available: the biggest hurdle is getting past the burro-craps that claim you need to be certified as an educator. There are loaner programs out there for homeschoolers.  Groups that will do text buys so that each parent has access to the books needed, as needed to spread the cost out.  

And they really aren’t that expensive.  I have all the Saxon math series 4/5 through  Calculus and Physics, and probably only spent $700, but I did it over 6 years.  Language books are the same, and you can even find primers from the early years of the 20th century, that really carry their weight.  I have a third grade primer from 1911 that covers things I didn’t learn until the 8th grade. (Also shown as a reflection of how degraded our education system has become.  Thank you Sen. Dewey, may you burn in fire and ice forever.)  Currently,  there are huge amounts of resources on the intertubez, and it doesn’t take long to find them if one only looks.  The are support groups, advice, both personal and legal; and you will need the legal side in many states. 

I know more than a few of my readers are far past this stage in life.  Kids grown and gone.  Mine is, but I have two grandkids. Grandkids I would happily take in to teach if my daughter were willing.  I would even drop the day job if this were to happen.  Why? Because I can teach them better, not just the subjects of the trivium/quadrivium, but about living, the economy, work and ethics, and all those things that do not get taught now, by living with and working with them, one on one. (And that used to be the role of grandparents everywhere at one time)

(And now you know the real dream involving my homestead)

Only time will tell, let’s hope the mini revolution of Trump bears fruit.

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