It’s over when I say it’s over

This is Day 356 of 15 Days to Flatten the Curve. Deb and I are ok.

After many weeks of near-relentless attention to the bus, dancing around uncooperative weather and other complications, we’re throttling-back this weekend. Other than a few minor tasks, it’s as ready to roll as it can be.

Two straight sub-freezing nights had us running a furnace to protect the un-winterizing I’d done. A good friend came over yesterday and stopped the leaks in the galley, which puts a bow on the fresh-water system’s utility. Today I’ll test the LP-gas water heater and start the refrigerator on 120VAC. Tomorrow I’ll trickle-charge the chassis batteries.

I think I’ll connect the Bumper Bunker to 20A shore power, too, and give its cells some love. But our focus remains on Ernie.

We can see The Road from here.


Surfing on the wake of his shamefully un-American speech Thursday night, Daffy McHairsniffer took to the Rose Garden on Friday to thump the tub again. He crowed about the boondoggle “rescue” legislation he’d just signed, funded with borrowed money that’ll have to be repaid by our great-grandchildren..

Daffy preached to his choir of elites, praising a long list of hollow commitments and symbolic actions that are none of government’s business. And because he’s a progressive, of course, he had to exploit uncertainty born of fear:

“This is not over.”

When you stop and think about it, that’s really all he’s got. This WuFlu nonsense has been the “crisis” progressives can’t let go to waste — or let go of. How long can they hold on?

Wrong question.

I say it’s over. I say I’m done. The State has no control that I don’t grant to it.

The consent of the governed, like Liberty itself, ultimately is individual, not collective.

When Independence Day rolls ’round this year, we’re gonna see who defies Doctor Dementia. We’ll see who the true Americans are, now, won’t we?

Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.

#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath