I started feelin’ less-than-ideal yesterday afternoon. Though somewhat better this morning, I don’t believe I have it in me to do a day’s work. And so, because I can, I’m taking Thursday off. Call it a personal privilege day.
Since last weekend, a smoky haze has been hanging over this part of Ozarkansas. The Forestry Division of the Arkansas Department of Agriculture has begun conducting prescribed burns SSW of here, like it does every year, and we’re catching the smoke.
It doesn’t bother me. As government actions go, this, I believe, is a good use of my state taxes. It’s just smart management.
I expect it’ll make for colorful sunsets, too.
Most self-respecting Country folk know why firewood often is referred to as “cordwood” — a “cord” is a formal unit of volume applied to wood cut for fuel. The term dates back to the 17th Century, and it’s still used today to help buyers and sellers agree on bang-for-buck.
Specifically, a full cord of wood measures four feet by four feet by eight feet, stacked tightly and uniformly. Doing the math — 4x4x8 — gives us a volume of 128 cubic feet.
Another common term is “face cord.” That’s generally accepted to be a tight stack four feet tall by eight feet long by 16 inches (or 18 inches) wide. It’s essentially a third of a full cord.
Around here, firewood is bought, sold and measured by the “rick.” A rick is the same as a face cord.
The reason I put all that out there today is that I got to thinking about how much firewood I split and stacked the last couple of mornings. It sits on a standard pallet measuring 48 inches by 40 inches, and it stands a little over five feet high. Multiplying 4 times 3.33 times 5 yields a result of 67 cubic feet — more than half a cord.
But my humble stack is neither tight nor uniform, so the volume of wood is much lower. If I tried to make it perfect, I’d probably be able to put 50% more in the same space. Realistically and roughly, then, I laid up about 44 cubic feet of wood.
A rick, that is.
Translating that into dollars and cents, I considered what we spent last fall for cordwood — $150 for two-and-a-half ricks (estimated) of seasoned hardwood, delivered but not stacked. That works out to $60 a rick.
So saving sixty bucks is one way to look at it. Another is that it paid for my Fiskars splitting axe and left a ten-dollar bill in my pocket. But the most important perspective, it seems to me, can’t be calculated.
Independence.
Harvesting, processing and putting up wood from our own land to heat our home and feed our fire pits is, in no small way, an assertion of individual Liberty. That, my friends, doesn’t have a price tag.
This is the way the world ends
T.S. Eliot, from “The Hollow Men” (1925)
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Are you not entertained?
We are a serial species, a sitcom race, a miniseries people. We’ve been conditioned by electronic media for a hundred years now to demand plots and storylines, heroes and villains, a clear progression of events from obvious beginning to certain conclusion.
That’s why most Americans don’t see what’s happening around them. They’re looking for something resembling a script, and there isn’t one.
We hear all the chatter about World War III and wonder how and when it’s going to “start.” We await something dramatic or cataclysmic, a clearly seminal event. And when it doesn’t happen, we deduce that there’s nothing to see.
False flags. Red flags. Black swans. The Great Reset. PSYOPs. QAnon. Stand with Ukraine. It’s such bullshit. All we’re doing is applying a pathetic entertainment mindset to the real world.
We’re divided politically in two — Left and Right, Democrat and Republican, wrong and right, the forces of evil against good. It has us seeing saviors (Bernie, Trump) and devils (Trump, Bernie). But because our allegiances aren’t grounded in principle, it’s all just for show.
And we make shitty choices.
For some reason, we don’t pause to consider — or act rationally when we learn — that government itself is waging an all-out war on the People. We fail to grasp that no matter the party in power, the Permanent State pulls the levers.
One side (conservatives) blames the other (progressives) for “stealing” the last presidential election. Now that evidence shows that The Pentagon — that’s right, the federal Department of Defense — actually engineered the outcome, we’re strangely silent, inexplicably unmoved.
We don’t differentiate between cheating for competitive advantage and malicious intent in pursuit of total control.
All this, and more, is why we can’t have nice things.
Get a grip — World War III is underway, and the United States is a combatant. America itself is mired in a civil war. There are no “free and fair” federal elections. The Constitution of the United States has been abandoned. The federal government isn’t the three branches we learned about in civics class — Big Brother rules us, seeks to control us, means to subdue us, fully intends to eliminate us.
We’ll still face binary choices, and we still should vote on Election Day. The aims of the ideological Left still are anti-American and anathema to Liberty. The rights of the individual remain morally superior to the greater good, the tyranny of the collective.
And that, ultimately, is where our focus must be — principle, individual, family, community.
The days ahead will unfold however they unfold. There’s a high probability that it won’t look like a feature film, so stop expecting that.
Control what you can. Put your affairs in order.
A spring and summer sound came calling on The Mountain this afternoon — thunder rumbled toward us across the valley. What lightning there was didn’t strike close. We got very little rain. No hail.
I hated being confined to quarters today. After Deb got Home from a half-day at work, she had to go back out and gas-up the Jeep, and I rode along. I put down the window next to the passenger seat and felt the cool air. Back on The Mountain I took a walk, if only to move and breathe.
Good medicine. Tomorrow will be better.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB