Day one of the new epoch

Sabbath morn.

6:30 AM, first day of the new epoch according to the Maya. Also, the shortest day of the year, meaning the darkest as well, if you live in the Northern hemisphere. Many guffawed and hawhawd at the notion of epochal change and will now continue on with the party as though nothing has changed. I’d warn that history is best judged in hindsight.

For me personally, 2012 proved a rough year. I lost close friends, nearly lost others, struggled to keep bills paid on the farm. I damaged those I love with reckless and selfish ways. My health is not what it once was. Not to say however, that I don’t have a lot to be thankful for; I am acutely aware that events could have been worse, and were for others.

A majority fails to recognize that we have already suffered what may prove to be fatal wounds, most self-inflicted by our behavior over the last thirty years; some will argue a longer time frame, but insanity comes in waves and the last intense bout has lasted precisely thirty years.

In the world of finance, those in power first stole, through fraud, manipulation and war. Dissatisfied with the gains, they devised plans not only to steal what was available today, but also to steal projected income from the future. Then, like most thieves, they burned through the bulk of their ill-gotten gains.

We are left with a world, as Nicole Foss from The Automatic Earth would say, where claims on wealth, in whatever form they may be made, far exceed the value of real underlying assets on which they are based. You may think you have money in the bank. You may think you have a retirement fund. Money in stocks or a mutual fund. A pension plan. Social Security checks for life, socialized health care benefits. A clear title to land or property….

You assume that military might and a constant onslaught of potential enemies, the development of greater, more powerful, more complex systems of death and destruction keep us safe from the rest of the world, that only those that live in the third world must fear death from a drone.

You assume that certain liberties and rights belong to those born into the United States.

That your home is impervious to damages from an increasingly hostile environment.

That a plentiful supply of cheap, healthy food and fuel is a given, that the pumps will always have gas and diesel, the grocery store aisles will be perpetually stocked, the lights come on with the flick of a switch and water pours forth with the turn of a valve.

Take none of this for granted.

While we slept some or all of these things were stolen from you.

An honest accounting has not been done to date.

It will be interesting to see what is left once that happens.

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Don Henry Ford Jr.

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  • “Take none of this for granted.”

    Right on partner…, write on.

    From Kesey’s “Sometimes a Great Notion”:

    He moved his ear to the animal’s sleek bulk and could hear her guts working. He liked the cow. He liked feeling her warmth and squeezing the rhythm of milk into the pail. It was a dumb-ass thing keeping a milk-cow these days when you could buy milk cheaper’n alfalfa, but dammit a cow’s tit was a nice change from an ax-handle, and the soft working of a cow’s gut was a relief after the old man’s snortin’ and fartin’ and John’s bullshitting and Orland’s wife’s screeching. Oh, well; they didn’t really mean anything by it.

    The milk rang into the pail, then muffled its ringing in folds of white froth, a measured bell sounding through thick, creamy warmth.

    This is Hank’s bell.

    The Quillayute Cowboy

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