Often it’s useful to remind ourselves that we tend to whine about “First World problems.” When complaining that DoorDash is late, our Internet connection is dragging, the car’s heated seats stopped working, gas is four bucks a gallon (but always available) or good sushi (if there is such a thing) is a half-hour drive away, a little perspective is called for.
I make my home in the Country. I live as simply as I can. I conduct almost all of my commerce in a couple of small towns. Still, the “First World” isn’t completely inescapable.
Take, for instance, a small Amazon order I placed a couple of months ago — a shaker of Mrs. Dash seasoning, a can of Maxwell House coffee and a box of Clif Bars, all of which were either unavailable or priced much higher at my local sources. Delivery, via Amazon, was scheduled for a Sunday afternoon.
The box landed on the cabin stoop right on time. I brought it in and opened it to find that Amazon got it comically wrong. Instead of seasoning, coffee and energy bars, I’d received an oscillating sprinkler, a short garden hose and a bottle of bactericidal spray.
Yes, I looked at the label on the box — my name, my address, my order number. Using the Amazon app on my phone, I reported the snafu via the chat-bot utility.
The AI-powered feature apologized, issued a full refund and told me to keep the misdirected merchandise. That resolution took less than five minutes.
I was about to re-order my seasoning, coffee and energy bars when I heard a car coming up my driveway — Amazon again, different driver, another package. (I wasn’t expecting anything else.)
What do you think was in that box?
Yup — a shaker of Mrs. Dash seasoning, a can of Maxwell House coffee and a box of Clif Bars. The package label bore my name and address but an order number that didn’t match anything in my history.
I quickly got back on Amazon chat and tried to undo my refund — I mean, as long as I received what I’d ordered, I should pay for it, right? That didn’t compute with the Bezosbot. Ultimately, I gave up trying to do the right thing.
And what’ll I do with the sprinkler and such? I have no idea.
Here’s another example of high strangeness in the First World — specifically, the tale of when YouTube set a trap for me.
If you’re a long-time reader of Ubi Libertas Blog, you know that my belief in individual sovereignty and the primacy of natural law forms the foundation of my views on Liberty. That hasn’t escaped the attention of The Great and Powerful Algorithm, of course.
Several months ago, YouTube began suggesting videos promising to school me on obscure laws, little-known tactics and “magic words” guaranteed to get me out of every jam with a cop and humble every judge should I appear in court. I recognized the content immediately for what it was — “sovereign citizen” doctrine, real fringe-on-the-flag stuff.
I also saw it as a potential snare. I didn’t click on a single one of those videos.
Believe it or not, even The Great and Powerful Algorithm gets discouraged (albeit in a logical, AI sort of way). Eventually it stopped recommending that kind of content to me. In its place, I began seeing recommendations for bodycam and courtroom videos in which “sovereign citizens” receive spectacular comeuppance from cops and judges.
That’s entertainment. I try to take in one or two of those every evening.
Let’s talk about the whole sovereignty thing.
It’s not my intent to belittle so-called “sovereign citizens” or the sincerity of their beliefs. In fact, I feel a certain kinship with them, at least in terms of their passion for the exercise of individual Liberty.
Problem is, I’m equally committed to exercising critical thought and intellectual honesty. That’s where I respectfully disembark the SovCit train, because much of what I’ve learned about the movement is that it’s based on wishes, misunderstandings and outright fabrications.
That is, it’s mostly bullshit.
And y’know, I’d be inclined to apologize for saying that if it weren’t so clear that SovCit articles of faith basically are made-up “laws,” or gross misreadings of actual laws, or attempts to apply tenuous legal principles in contexts where they’re wholly irrelevant. Add to that the fervent belief in “magic words,” along with rote recitation of SovCit scripts, and I’m not the least bit interested.
That said, I do believe that we live in a time and under a system that overall gives short shrift to individual Liberty and the individual sovereignty which undergirds it, and that’s anathema to the American ideal. Maybe it shouldn’t be that way, but it is, and each of us must operate within current laws or face consequences. Simple.
Finally here, what are the chances that the principled exercise and assertion of sovereign-citizen doctrine will effect change? How many times already have such arguments been successful in American courts?
The answer to both questions is zero.
And that’s why I didn’t fall into YouTube‘s trap.
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It’s rare that I respond to posts on social media. Oh, maybe I’ll react to express solidarity, concern or agreement, but generally I leave commenting to others. This morning, however, one of my Facebook friends shared something that got me typing.
First, here’s what she shared:
This, unabridged, was my response:
I get it, but here’s some food for thought.
First, I couldn’t help noticing that “demonise” is the British spelling of what commonly would be “demonize” in American English. So this list may be coming from across the pond, or perhaps from an American Europhile.
Second, every one of the examples on that list purports to indict capitalism — an ideology and economic system that historically has done more good for mankind than any other.
And third, let’s add two items to the list:
“When wealth is demonized, leftist elites sell communism.”
“When capitalism is demonized, leftist elites sell socialism.”
Something to think about.
Her response: “Well said.” I appreciate that acknowledgement, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t give due credit to the education I received at The Limbaugh Institute for Advanced Conservative Studies.
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I really need to buy a rain gauge. Since discovering that both of the ones I had froze and broke last winter, I just haven’t gotten around to it. Not that it’s an essential item or anything, but there are times when I’d really like to know how much we got.
Yesterday was one of those times.
As I said in my last post, we got a lot of rain Thursday. A long series of training storm cells triggered a flood watch and then a flash flood warning.
The wet stuff came down with varying intensity for the better part of 30 hours.
I scoured the wwWeb for sites that let me search rainfall amounts by ZIP. The first one I checked reported that Yellville got 5.03 inches.
Impressive. But accurate?
Then I found an interactive map and dropped a pin on The Mountain. That produced a pop-up saying that 4.84 inches of rain had fallen over the 24-hour period ending early Friday morning.
So I’m calling it five-inches. And if that didn’t bust our “extreme” drought, it sure as hell put a big dent in it.
There’s one other way to gauge the impact of a round of rainfall. Though admittedly subjective, eyeballing the level of Crooked Creek while crossing the Flippin bridge would let me fairly assess whether five inches was plausible.
I had in mind to run some errands this morning, so I’d have my chance.
Heading north on the county road toward Flippin, this was my view downstream (east):
And on the return trip, looking upstream:
So Crooked Creek was running muddy, strong and out of its banks. That was enough confirmation for me.
(I think it’s worth pointing out that as of Wednesday, the creek was bone-dry at that same bridge.)
A couple of culinary notes.
This morning, it was back. I made it my dinner side this evening. Delicious as ever.
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Considering how many photos of lizards I share on here, you must think that I spend a lot of time looking for them.
I don’t. I don’t have to. They’re everywhere.
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Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable