Friday, May 10, 2024

Jim Kunstler, "Carnival Rides"

"Carnival Rides"
by Jim Kunstler
“These agencies are not trusted because they are not trustworthy.” 
- El Gato Malo on “X”

"The miasma of anxiety befogging so many brains in our troubled land begins to lift as every narrative served up by the US fascist intel blob goes annoyingly stale and impotent. The worst media meme - that a vicious officialdom is “defending our democracy” - gets laughed out of the room now when repeated incessantly by such shills as Jen Psaki and Lawrence O’Donnell of MSNBC. Everybody understands they want to “defend our democracy” by cancelling your freedom of speech, pounding you into bankruptcy, and stealing whatever remains of your stuff.

Likewise, everything else: that our doings in Ukraine are a “fight for freedom,” that “white supremacy” lurks just out of sight getting ready to pounce on the “marginized” (who are actually running things, and doing it very badly), that “Joe Biden” turned around the economy, that “voting rights” equals non-citizens getting to vote, that election fraud is a “big lie” (and that the J-6 riot over it was an “insurrection”), and that the Covid vaccines were “safe and effective.”

None of these dishonest persuasions work anymore, and all of the persuasion machinery stands in plain sight like so many nauseating carnival rides. One by one, the rides are flying apart, scattering debris and body parts of the poor slobs who were on the rides all over the fairgrounds. And so, the fear rises in the ones running the carnival. The county sheriff stands by looking to round up the sleazeball carnies with their missing teeth and needle tracks inside their elbows. Before long, they will find themselves in the courtroom...

The vicious officialdom put up the carnival and all of its rides to distract the public from the crimes they committed during and after the 2016 election. Donald Trump’s idle talk about putting Hillary Clinton in jail struck nerves throughout the federal bureaucracy, the halls of Congress, and the strongholds of the Clintons and the Obamas.

The Clintons had literally bought the Democratic Party apparatus under the DNC, using the money they grifted into the Clinton foundation from such operations as the Uranium One deal, the Skolkovo war-tech transfer deal, and the Haiti earthquake relief effort. They were sure that ownership of the DNC guaranteed the election for Hillary. It did guarantee that she would overcome Bernie Sanders’ primary election victories and the delegates that came with them, even after Julian Assange’s Wikileaks release informed the world just how the Clintons bought and paid for the DNC and the whole Philadelphia convention. Call this the birth of the “misinformation” cult, in which everything true was converted into a “big lie.”

The problem was, Hillary lost that election. What a surprise! Buying the convention was not enough, it turned out. Those “deplorables” did the unthinkable: cast enough of their stinky votes in just the right rust belt precincts to elect the Golden Golem of Greatness, who was as surprised as anybody, and really unprepared to cobble together an actual governing administration - in the process of which, Donald J. Trump was completely buffaloed by the outgoing Obama gang. They plotted by the lights of the White House Christmas tree to go after the interloper with all they had, starting with the surgical removal of a most dangerous appointee, National Security Advisor Mike Flynn, who knew all the secrets...and from there onto four years of Russia, Russia, Russia...

It’s hardly a mystery anymore how “Joe Biden” got elected. It’s perfectly obvious despite the “big lie” narrative that the 2020 election was stoked with a veritable orgy of ballot fraud and direct election interference by agency rogues, especially the ones leaning hard on Facebook, Twitter, and Google to manipulate what the public actually saw. Don’t believe your lying eyes they told the nation. What is a mystery is why they chose “Joe Biden” to front for the cabal around Barack Obama actually running the show. Never before in US history was there a president who left such a slime trail of bribery and corruption. Just as they had spent all their energy the previous four years in undermining Mr. Trump, they had to spend the next four years propping up and defending “Joe Biden,” and then desperately trying to save their own asses from a Trump return. Meanwhile, they set out on their mission to wreck the country sufficient to clear the way for establishing a transhuman public-private utopia of crypto-Marxian “equity” (theft of property).

All of this political legerdemain summoned up the miasma of anxiety that beclouded the people of this sore-beset republic, and the nearly final blow to them was the Covid-19 operation, set in motion with the phony PCR test, that has now left a substantial number of citizens, vaccine-injured, disabled, and on-course for an early death - a pretty grotesque affront to our democracy. The victims are beginning to realize it.

The battery of Trump trials and lawsuits meant to put him totally out of business are now all simultaneously collapsing. Special Counsel Jack Smith is left doing Chinese fire drills around his office Keurig coffee machine. When the prank-fest in Judge Juan Merchan’s courtroom concludes, whether the jury sees the show for the farce that it is, or not, the Golden Golem of Greatness will be at large again among the voters. If he is clever enough to pick a capable veep that represents something like “assassination insurance” - say, Vivek, Tulsi Gabbard, or JD Vance - then the Obama cabal and the blob that has been protecting it will be swept out of power and into a dragnet of a kind of law actually associated with the word justice.

They are running out of ways to avoid it. All they’ve got left are the direst resorts: war, crashing the economy, another bio-weapon op against their own people, or an outright coup d’état. And even those probably won’t work."

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Canadian Prepper, "I've Received Top Secret Intel, Nuclear Plan Has Changed, Equipment Moves To Border"

Canadian Prepper, 5/9/24
"I've Received Top Secret Intel, Nuclear Plan Has Changed,
 Equipment Moves To Border"
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Jeremiah Babe, "Losing Your Job And Car; The Big Shots Are In Big Trouble"

Jeremiah Babe, 5/9/24
"Losing Your Job And Car;
 The Big Shots Are In Big Trouble"
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Musical Interlude: Supertramp, "Take The Long Way Home"

Full screen recommended.
Supertramp, "Take The Long Way Home"

"A Look to the Heavens"

"Riding high in the constellation of Auriga, beautiful, blue vdB 31 is the 31st object in Sidney van den Bergh's 1966 catalog of reflection nebulae. It shares this well-composed celestial still life with dark, obscuring clouds recorded in Edward E. Barnard's 1919 catalog of dark markings in the sky. All are interstellar dust clouds, blocking the light from background stars in the case of Barnard's dark nebulae. For vdB 31, the dust preferentially reflects the bluish starlight from embedded, hot, variable star AB Aurigae.
Exploring the environs of AB Aurigae with the Hubble Space Telescope has revealed the several million year young star is itself surrounded by flattened dusty disk with evidence for the ongoing formation of a planetary system. AB Aurigae is about 470 light-years away. At that distance this cosmic canvas would span about four light-years.”

Chet Raymo, “Trying To Be Good”

“Trying To Be Good”
by Chet Raymo

“A few lines from Mary Oliver's poem "Wild Geese":

    "You do not have to be good.
    You do not have to walk on your knees
    for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
    You only have to let the soft animal of your body
    love what it loves."

"I've quoted these lines before, if not here, then elsewhere. When I first read them back in the late 80s, they resonated with what I felt at the time. I had spent part of my earliest adulthood walking on my knees, both literally and metaphorically, seeking to tame what I took to be the animal within. Saint Augustine was whispering in my ear, and Bernanos' gloomy country priest walked at my side. I was ready to follow Thomas Merton into the desert; indeed, I once took myself briefly to the monastery at Gethsemane, Kentucky, where Merton was in residence. That was a journey of more than a hundred miles, and I was busy repenting, although of what I don't know.

As I read those lines from Mary Oliver in middle age, I had long been cultivating the "soft animal" within, immersing myself in the is-ness of things, the flesh and blood, the gorgeously sensual. No more walking on my knees, repenting. I walked proudly upright, with my sketchbook and my watercolors, my binoculars and my magnifier, sniffing the world like an animal on the prowl. I was letting my body learn to "love what it loves." Those were the years I wrote "The Soul of the Night" and "Honey From Stone" - the most intensely creative years of my life. The world offered itself to my imagination, if I may borrow another line from "Wild Geese."

And now, another half-lifetime has passed. The soft animal dozes, the body seeks repose. And I think of the first line quoted above: "You do not have to be good." What could the poet have possibly meant by that? Of course one has to be good. In a cell at Gethsemane or on the bridge over Queset Brook, one has to be good. And so one tries, one tries. The soft animal of the body that nature has contrived for us is not fine-tuned for goodness.”
“Wild Geese”

"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."

- Mary Oliver

"What A Privilege!"

“Whatever your fate is, whatever the hell happens, you say, “This is what I need.” It may look like a wreck, but go at it as though it were an opportunity, a challenge. If you bring love to that moment - not discouragement - you will find the strength there. Any disaster you can survive is an improvement in your character, your stature, and your life. What a privilege! This is when the spontaneity of your own nature will have a chance to flow. Then, when looking back at your life, you will see that the moments which seemed to be great failures, followed by wreckage, were the incidents that shaped the life you have now. You’ll see this is really true. Nothing can happen to you that is not positive. Even though it looks and feels at the moment like a negative crisis, it is not. The crisis throws you back, and when you are required to exhibit strength, it comes.”
~ Joseph Campbell

"Welcome to the Warfare State"

"Welcome to the Warfare State"
by Doug Casey

"War is one of the few things that only the State can do. Indeed, as Randolph Bourne said, "War is the health of the State." Let’s briefly discuss the nature of the State to see why World War 3 is on the way.

The State is like any other living entity: its prime directive is to survive and grow. Bear in mind that the State - the government - is not at all the same thing as the country or society, even though it claims to be. It’s not "We the People"; it’s a distinct entity with its own discrete interests. And that’s actually too mild an assertion. While individuals and companies prosper by providing goods and services to others through voluntary exchange, the State specializes in coercion.

There’s nothing voluntary about the State. Its main products have always been pogroms, persecutions, confiscations, taxation, inflation, censorship, harassment, repression - and war. The State is not your friend.

Mass murder and wholesale destruction are bad enough in themselves. But in wartime, the State enables them with new taxes, new debt, draconian controls, and new bureaucracies. These things linger long after the war is over.

Worse yet, the State does these things with the sanction of the victim; the typical citizen has been taught that almost anything is justified by "national security." Anyone who would normally protest these depredations in peacetime soon learns to dummy-up when there’s a war for fear of being lynched for sympathizing with the invariably demonic enemy.

After the war - assuming a victory, of course - the State’s debt, taxes, regulations and general size never return to pre-war levels. They ratchet up to ever higher plateaus, requiring the State to do more of the same to justify its existence. Government programs, of whatever description, are almost never pulled out by their roots. At most, they’re trimmed, which has the same effect as pruning a plant, i.e., they’re encouraged to grow back bigger and stronger.

Why am I saying these scary things? Because we’re clearly heading towards a big war.

A Clear and Present Danger: I want to make a point in this article that many will find unpalatable, perhaps even incredible: In today’s world, the US military is nearly useless in countering potential threats from abroad. It’s actually a positive danger. And it’s not ready for a real war. If you’re looking for a comforting mainstream analysis, I don’t have much. Let’s start with the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.

NATO is a US government program that’s taken on a life of its own. Its original purpose was to defend against the Warsaw Pact. But although the Soviet Union and its allies ceased to exist as a military threat in the early 1990s, NATO has continued to grow. Despite agreements with Russia, it’s grown right to their border, even adding traditionally neutral states like Finland and Sweden.

Even if you assume that NATO doesn’t provoke WW3 over the Ukraine (setting aside a discussion of who’s right or wrong and who really started it), the Chinese are likely next on the dance card. They can only see the allied Western states as pointing a gun in their direction. To them, NATO is a provocation to a cultural/racial war. NATO encourages them to make building their military a high priority.

So much for the "End of History." As long as nation-states exist, there will be violent conflict between them. But the way I see it, the nature of war, and even the nation-state itself, is going to change radically over the next 20 years. And, as has been the case throughout history, a prime mover is going to be technology.

Weaponry & Strategy: It’s an old saying: "Generals always fight the last war." That’s not because they’re (necessarily) stupid. But by the time a man gets a bunch of stars on his epaulets, you’re only assured of a competent bureaucrat with good political skills, not someone with a great military mind. Bureaucrats are not daring innovators; they do things by the book. That gives them CYA excuses and plausible deniability if things go wrong.

Apart from simple inertia, fighting the last war makes sense. For one thing, it’s what they know. For another, the equipment and tactics in question have been tested. For another, the weapons exist, and when a war starts, you basically have to "run what you brought."

Whether they can get away with fighting the last war depends mainly on whether there has been a significant change in technology. Up to early industrial times, one change in a lifetime was a lot. After all, how often do major innovations like the stirrup or gunpowder come along? But since the advent of industrialized warfare with the American conflict of 1861-1865, changes have been very rapid, and the rate of change is accelerating at warp speed.

The military is not unaware of this; as I said, they’re not stupid. In fact, today’s officers are highly educated; almost all are college graduates, for what that’s worth. Most field grade officers have done graduate work as well. That’s one reason the US emphasizes high-tech weaponry.

The military is throwing ever greater amounts of money on larger, more complex, and vastly more expensive pieces of equipment. The idea is to stay technologically ahead of any potential enemies. Maybe the US can maintain its lead as long as it’s a simplistic scenario of our tanks, planes, and ships against theirs. But the chances of things staying that simple are close to zero. The whole paradigm is about to change.

This is true for several reasons: today’s "hi-tech" weapons (F-35 fighters, Abrams tanks, aircraft carriers) are already obsolete. They’re certainly a nightmare to maintain and keep personnel competent. New drones, missiles, and torpedoes are both superior to and vastly cheaper than conventional weapons. Biological and cyber weapons obviate them all. If they’re deployed in earnest, it’s "Game Over".

Projecting force worldwide with 800 bases, $100 million aircraft, and carrier fleets, is ruinously expensive, especially for a bankrupt government that’s "on tilt". But that’s the essence of American doctrine. The concept of "defense" itself is obsolete for a nation-state. Let’s look at this in a bit more detail.

1. Today’s "Hi-Tech" Weapons Are Obsolete: Starting with a blank piece of paper, during World War II, the US developed one of the conflict’s finest fighters, the P-51 Mustang, in 117 days and produced it for $50,000 a copy - say about $500,000 in today’s dollars. It’s true that the F-35 is considerably more complex, but relative costs should have been dropping because of advances in materials, techniques, computers, robotics, and such, not escalating over 100-fold in real terms. A friend who knows about these things tells me that every hour of operating time on an M-1 Abrams requires 8 hours of maintenance. For a F-16, it’s 20 hours. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that only 30% of F-35’s are flyable at any given time.

Unsustainable runaway costs are apparent everywhere. When you’re paying upwards of 15 billion dollars for an aircraft carrier (without any aircraft or auxiliary ships), $500 million for a B-2, and $7 million for a tank, you can’t afford to buy very many of them. And you absolutely can’t afford to lose any. Apart from the costs, it takes many months or years to produce more.

On the other hand, despite sophisticated defense armaments, a swarm of cheap sea-skimming missiles might sink a carrier and its 5000-man crew - not to mention a single hypersonic missile. A hit with a cheap shoulder-fired missile can bring down any low-flying aircraft, and at $10,000 a copy, the battlefield can be peppered with them. Fire-and-forget missiles transform tanks into expensive iron coffins; ultra-cheap commercial drones can drop explosives anywhere. Cheap, accurate, small, and numerous missiles are the modern equivalent of Sam Colt’s six gun, which not only made the little guy equal to the big guy, but superior - because big guys are big targets. Drones the size of bumblebees will seek out highly trained and very expensive infantrymen.

Like a small person who knows he shouldn’t fight a giant on his own terms, US adversaries will use the military equivalent of Aikido, turning the opponent’s own might against him. The Houthis in Yemen recognize that it costs the Americans millions to blow up a mud hut, which is, in popular parlance, "unsustainable." In addition to creating more enemies. They see themselves as the under-gunned rebels in Star Wars when they destroy the Empire’s Death Star, substituting daring and cleverness for the enemy’s overwhelming physical capital.

2. Today’s Conventional Weapons Will Soon Be Totally Obsolete: This whole discussion will be completely academic in a generation when nanotechnology becomes practical. The idea is the creation of machines and supercomputers atom by atom. The essence of the technology is making things larger from a molecular level rather than trying to miniaturize them.

It’s likely to be the most important event in human history, including the conquest of fire. It will change the very essence of life itself totally, irrevocably, and unrecognizably - including the nature of armed conflict. An excellent, albeit conservative, description of a nanotechnic future is offered by Neal Stephenson in "Diamond Age," which I highly recommend. Nanotech weapons will be available to everyone after a delay, much as gunpowder was in the 15th century. That assumes, of course, that the cyber and bioweapons now available to everyone don’t obviate the whole question.

In the meantime, the trend to miniaturization will continue apace. Microchips and other computer components are commercially available everywhere, and they’re cheaper and more powerful every day. The next generation of weapons will be highly miniaturized robots, weighing at most a few pounds apiece, probably designed with running or flying insects as models. Construction will be facilitated by the use of off-the-shelf electronic products. That's in addition to full-size Terminator-style robots, AI-piloted and armored vehicles.

A $50 billion fleet can be devastated by a few score missiles; a formation of soldiers wouldn’t stand a chance against an attack by thousands of very cheap microbots. Just as a hundred tiny ants can easily overwhelm a scorpion, cheap and tiny machines will turn current military behemoths into useless artifacts. Any country will be able to have a truly formidable military for a fraction of today’s costs.

3. Overextension as a Formula for Disaster: Fighting a war next door is one thing; doing so on the other side of the world is something else again. Fuel, materials, and troops are very costly to transport and maintain at the end of a 10,000 mile airlink. Doing so is likely to result in what has been called "imperial overstretch"; if you try to cover all the bases, you become overextended, vulnerable, and bankrupt. The US currently maintains a military presence of some description in about 100 countries, and almost all of those emplacements are an active provocation to somebody.

Question: If social spending cannot or will not be cut, with $1 trillion in interest that must be paid each year, debt growing at $2 trillion per annum, and money already being created by the trillions annually, what is going to give when times get tough? Will the government get involved in yet another serious foreign military adventure? Of course. They see it as a solution, not a problem.

A poor country can fight a war using human capital - like Korea in the 1950s or Vietnam in the 1960s. But a country like the US is almost forced to use financial and technological capital because human life has a high price tag for us. That makes for a problem when we don’t have the financial resources to maintain a military that’s both very expensive and ineffective.

Can the US afford to fight a continuous war in the alleged search for continuous peace? The experience of previous empires, from the Romans on, suggests the answer is no.

America’s best defense is a strong economy with lots of technological innovation, not an overweening military. If the US government, with its taxes, regulations, currency inflation, and welfare, were to disappear, the country would experience the greatest and most genuine boom in world history. In a decade, even China would appear as relatively insignificant as Nigeria today. It would be almost impossible to threaten a genuinely advanced America.

It’s equally important not to give any government or group a reason to launch an attack. People the world over love the idea of America; they love the culture, the cars, the food, the freedom, you-name-it. They like the good things American corporations used to make. They don't mind good-natured, free-spending American tourists.

What they don’t like is US boots on the ground or in their airspace, fomenting coups to install "democracy." If Washington DC ceased to exist, the other 96% of the planet’s population would have no more incentive to strike America than Costa Rica.

Of course, I may be anachronistic in that view. Over the last 50 years, while the US was building an arsenal to fight Russia and China, a different threat has been building. The Muslim world, which has been in what amounts to a Forever War with the West for 1400 years, is cyclically on the march again. They have two very important weapons.

One is firm and fanatical beliefs. The West, on the other hand, has lost all confidence; it’s flaccid and believes itself to be evil. As Napoleon said, in warfare, the psychological is to the physical as three is to one. The prognosis for America and Europe is not good. They’ll be conquered both psychologically and by migration. America’s bloated military will be useless.

Islam’s second weapon is many hundreds of millions of young Mohammedans. From a military viewpoint, they are infiltrating the demographic and political structure of the West and changing it. And if things ever go kinetic, scores of millions of young fighters are cheaper and more effective than expensive hi-tech hardware. There’s much more to be said on the topic of the Forever War with Islam.

Where this is Going: As a reader, I presume you agree with me on some of the above or are at least willing to listen to the argument with an open mind. I suspect that’s not the case with most Americans, however. They view the military as a national treasure or even an icon.

On one level, I can understand this atavistic attachment. As a kid I wanted to go to West Point - but was cured of the temptation by four years of military high school. In college, during the Vietnam War, I was signed up for the Marines PLC program (yes, I was a slow learner). But then I simultaneously drew 365 of 366 in the draft lottery (it was a leap year) and was medically rejected as 1-Y because I had broken my right leg in 17 different places only a year before. At that point, I figured the cosmos was trying to send me a message like, "If you really want to go to Vietnam, do you really need the government to pay your way?"

American’s warm feelings toward the military are largely misplaced. And I speak as someone who likes soldiers. Whatever its star-spangled history, the US military no longer serves much of a useful purpose because of the ongoing evolution of technology. Worse, it’s become an active danger. What’s left of its esprit de corps is being eroded by DEI, LGBT, and anti-whiteism. Soldiers’ first loyalty is naturally to each other - although that’s been weakened by Wokism. Their next loyalty is to their employer, who they trust less and less. Their third loyalty is to those they supposedly protect and serve, but they have less and less in common with them.

Combine those problems with others I’ve listed, and it’s no wonder the militaries of Western countries are becoming less and less reliable and effective. Not good; at the very time their governments are provoking war with Russia, China, and smaller counties.

Let me sum things up. US foreign policy is putting this country on a collision course with any number of other countries. The US military is in a position to fight the last war, but not the next one, because the weapons the US is loading up on are basically dinosaurs. And like dinosaurs, they’re unbelievably expensive to feed. The likely bankruptcy of the government during the next economic downturn will make feeding them near impossible.

When the next conflict occurs, it’s likely to do extensive damage in the US itself. It will be hard to insulate yourself from World War 3. It makes the Southern Hemisphere look better all the time.

Your first line of defense, of course, is common sense survivalist stuff. You know the drill: buy gold, silver, and get a survival retreat with a year’s supply of food, fuel, and ammunition. Keep gaining skills and knowledge. Try to become self-employed. Surround yourself with reliable, like-minded associates. Keep a low profile with the authorities. And, I might add, enjoy yourself; don’t take things too seriously. We’re dealing with the human condition."

The Daily "Near You?"

Shawnee, Oklahoma, USA. Thanks for stopping by!

Judge Napolitano, "Prof. Jeffrey Sachs: 'We Are On A Path To WWIII."

Judge Napolitano - Judging Freedom, 5/9/24
"Prof. Jeffrey Sachs: 'We Are On A Path To WWIII."
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"The Constancy of Change"

"Heraclitus," by Johannes Moreelse, 1630
"The Constancy of Change"
Political tension, creative destruction and the time for freedom.
by Joel Bowman

Melbourne, Australia - "Is the west ready to embrace free market capitalism? How about America? The UK? Canada? Australia? We’ll come back to that question in a moment. First, we probe a little deeper...

Darkness and light... goodness and evil... freedom and The State. The world is animated by powerful forces. Seen and unseen alike, they drive markets... politics... civilization itself... in opposing directions. A seller aims to capture the highest price for his good or service... a buyer, meanwhile, is on the hunt for bargains (and alternatives). He threatens to “take his money elsewhere” if he doesn’t get satisfaction. The market weighs, measures... and takes notes.

One candidate offers voters security, cradle to grave welfare, a “social safety net” and other unicorn treats... his opponent promises only to leave them alone, free to enjoy “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” after their own fashion. The people look, listen... and scratch their heads.

An experienced generation advises caution, patience and quiet adherence to reliable tradition... the youth have discovered a “new” way forward, a shinier trinket, a quicker, cheaper thrill. “This time is different,” they boldly declare, minds untroubled by the pangs of doubt.

Change as Constant: Occasionally, these opposing forces are evenly matched. Buyer and seller agree on a price, for example. Warring tribes broker a peace deal. A husband and wife set aside their differences... and agree to get a divorce. But stasis is not in nature’s nature. “Change is the only constant,” observed the pre-Socratic philosopher, Heraclitus (c. 535 – c. 475 BC). Everything remains in flux.

A price, for example, is settled in the moment, at the very point of exchange. But it is not eternal. Like a Polaroid snapshot, it represents the world as it is in an instant, before any number of swirling variables, both known and unknown – sentiment, momentum, volume... trends, obsolescence, regulatory interference etc. – conspire to tilt the scales, in favor of buyer or seller, from one day to the next. (Incidentally, this is why sustained price controls never... ever... ever... work: price discovery is a process, not a product. And as a process, it is particularly adept at resisting arrest.)

Similarly, over in the murky political realm, where we’ve lately been observing the Greatest Experiment of Our Age, myriad forces connive to push and pull in opposite directions. On the one side, the free market is the purest expression of the will of the people, unforced, unbound, unihbibited. A man remains at liberty to say, do and imagine whatever lunatic fantasy his heart desires... provided he does not interfere with his neighbor’s right to do likewise.

Standing guard against such rough and raw liberty, state actors relentlessly harass and harangue, corral and cajole, browbeat and bully... terrorizing one and all on the absurd pretense that civil society would collapse without their ceaseless vigilance and selfless service.

Two-Way Road: But like price discovery, politics is more “process than product.” The weight of the state under which man labors depends on whether liberty or tyranny is in the ascendency. Mostly heavy as a stone... rarely light as a feather... the burden is seldom constant. Rather, there is a tension between the two opposing forces; freedom on the one side, coercion on the other.

In dialectics, this phenomenon is known as a “unity of opposites,” wherein two antagonistic forces are considered both dependent on, and acting against, one another in a given field of tension. The nature of the political realm remains the same – the squabbling, the infighting, the politicking – even as its expression bubbles and boils, in a state of constant unrest.

Heraclitus illustrates the basic idea using the following aphorism: “The road up and the road down are the same thing.” But why is this important? And how is it relevant today, two and a half millennia after that clever ol’ Ephesian traipsed the ancient agora?

First, because change is still the only constant, all these years on... and second, because far from being cause for concern, much less lamentation, tension is not merely part of the process, but fundamentally necessary for any change at all. Indeed, it is often during periods of extreme pressure, mounting stress and unrelenting strain that we witness the most revolutionary breakthroughs.

Adversity builds character, say the old timers. No pain, no gain, coaches tell their athletes. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, reckoned Nietzsche (himself a great admirer of Heraclitus).

Whether in the biological world (evolution through adaptation and natural selection)... in economics (Schumpeter’s creative destruction)... or in the dark arts of politics (revolutions, revolts and rebellions since time immemorial)...crises have a way of inspiring our very boldest ideas, accelerating our sharpest innovations, catalyzing the conditions required for unimaginable quantum leap. (Even if it is simply that we may begin the whole process over again.)

Pressure mounted for almost three quarters of a century down in Argentina before the citizens there finally embraced the concept of liberty. And now, folks around the world are putting their fingers to the breeze and sensing freedom, even if the winds are only faint. Which brings us all the way back, full circle, to our opening line of inquiry...

Libertarian Leanings: Given Javier Milei’s rise down in Argentina, might we begin to see a shift toward libertarian, free market principles elsewhere, in the US... the UK... across the west? US presidential candidate, RFK, Jr., is sounding dangerously libertarian of late. Here he was a couple of months back, when some were speculating he might even make his run on a libertarian ticket: “I’ve actually been aligned with the libertarians on a lot of issues for all of my career [...] My record on environmental issues going back forty years has been a market-based approach.

We don’t have free market capitalism in our country. We have corporate crony capitalism...and that’s what’s destroying the environment. True free markets promote efficiency, efficiency means the elimination of waste. Pollution is waste. In a true free market, a true free market would require us to properly value our resources. And it is the undervaluation of those resources that causes us to use them wastefully.

In a true free market you can’t make yourself rich without making your neighbors rich and without enriching your community. What polluters do is they make themselves rich by making everyone else poorer and they do that by escaping the discipline of the free market and forcing the public to pay their production cost, by externalizing their cost. On this issue and many other issues I am very aligned with libertarians.”

And now, just last week, we learned that Donald Trump has accepted an invitation – and a challenge – to appear at the Libertarian Party’s National Convention later this month. “Libertarians are some of the most independent and thoughtful thinkers in our country, and I am honored to join them in Washington, DC, later this month,” said The Donald. “We must all work together to help advance freedom and liberty for every American...”

The theme for the 2024 Libertarian National Convention is “Become Ungovernable.” According to the party’s statement: “This was chosen following the previous years of unconscionable authoritarian actions by the United States Federal and State governments, which saw citizens confined, indoctrinated, lied to, and inoculated against their will. The citizens of these United States must become ungovernable to regain their basic rights and freedoms.”

Whether or not one believes Messers. Kennedy, or Trump, whether they believe their own words, the simple fact that two of the country’s leading candidates for presidency are even addressing the “libertarian fringe” tells you something about where they sense voters are headed...and the change that is in the air."

“What was scattered
gathers.
What was gathered
blows away.”
~ Heraclitus

"A Realistic Attitude..."

"It was the essence of life to disbelieve in death for one's self, to act as if life would continue forever. And life had to act also as if little issues were big ones. To take a realistic attitude toward life and death meant that one lapsed into unreality. Into insanity. It was ironic that the only way to keep one's sanity was to ignore that one was in an insane world or to act as if the world were sane."
- Philip José Farmer

Bill Bonner, "All Of The Biggies Want Inflation"

"All Of The Biggies Want Inflation"
The US owes $34.7 trillion. What if debt holders realized that 
the Fed was not really going to fight inflation...and that 
they were just going to ‘print up’ trillions in pieces of green paper?
by Bill Bonner

Dublin, Ireland - "Like a depressed person at an open window, yesterday, we left an important question unanswered: ‘Why can’t we just muddle through the debt problem? Why does it have to end in crisis and disaster?’ Talk about muddled! The question was put to Jared Bernstein, Joe Biden’s top economic advisor. In an interview, painful to watch, he seemed to be doing an impersonation of Leslie Nielson’s inimitable Frank Dribben:

"The US government can’t go bankrupt because we can print our own money... The government definitely prints its own money. The government definitely prints money and lends that money... The government definitely prints money...It then lends that money by selling bonds. Is that what they do? They sell bonds and then people buy the bonds and lend the money. Yeah...”

Yeah, that’s what they do. But why? Stephanie Kelton, proponent of Modern Monetary Theory, wonders: ‘Why does the federal government have to borrow its own money?’ A talk show host, interviewing her, leaped to the obvious absurdity: "Why don’t we just print up $1 trillion coins? We give one to China. One to Social Security, etc. We just pay off our debts in one fell swoop. Heck, we print the money anyway."

It seems like a no-brainer. Debt problem solved. Stamp the invoice PAID... and move on. This is not just a ‘theoretical issue.’ Here’s the head of the Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget, Maya MacGuineas:

"We’re less than a decade away from a massive solvency crisis that would slash benefits for over 67 million seniors and severely limit their access to health care soon after. But instead of running to fix this problem, our politicians are running away from it. Social Security’s retirement trust fund will be insolvent when today’s 58 year-olds reach the normal retirement age and today’s youngest retirees turn 71." Note to Kelton, Bernstein et al: Retired people don’t eat paper.

Right now, the Fed is balancing itself on the ledge. It wants inflation... to stir animal spirits and repress the real level of US debt. But it would be suicide to jump off and lower rates immediately, with the whole world watching.

The US owes $34.7 trillion. What if debt holders (and retirees) realized that the Fed was not really going to fight inflation... and that they were just going to ‘print up’ trillions in pieces of green paper?

All the people who put their faith in the Fed and the US dollar with their lifetime wealth... what would they think? The Fed is supposed to be guarding the value of America’s IOUs — from its venerable 30-year Treasury bonds... to its green walking around money, in 1s, 5s, 10s... and more.

Even our own housekeeper in Argentina, who lives in a mud hut up in the Andes mountains, a six-hour hike from our house, keeps her savings in green paper. It was an easy way to protect it from the Argentine peso. What if she knew that the US officials were no more reliable than their own jefes at the Banco Central de la Republica Argentina?

The Banking Cartel: So far, bondholders think they can trust the Fed to protect their money. Good luck. The Fed is a cartel of Big Banks. Its main purpose is to make sure the banks have enough money. If they run short, the Fed will swindle your children - with inflation - to give them more. All of the biggies want inflation:

• Big Government needs inflation to reduce the real value of its current debt... and allow it to continue confiscating the wealth of the nation.
• Big Money wants inflation because it owns the nations’ assets; ultra-low interest rates and deficits cause inflation, but they increase prices for their stocks and bonds.
• Big Business, too, thrives on inflation. Upstart competitors can’t get funding. Small businesses go broke. Big Businesses get bailouts.
• Even Big Media prefers inflation to ‘austerity.’ Inflation is a way to fund the wars and boondoggles that it loves so much.

All of them want to survive and grow... concentrating wealth and power in the big, here and now, institutions of the entrenched elites. But the real key to the feds’ embrace of inflation is this: They have no other choice. TINA. Politically, There Is No Alternative. These powerful groups would never accept the drastic cutbacks needed to reduce US debt (budget surpluses!)

You can’t muddle through a debt crisis. As in a train wreck or old age, muddling through won’t take you to the other side. The adventure has to end before a new one can begin. Social Security and Medicare are going broke. US debt is rising faster than inflation can cut it down. In another spell of high inflation, the Fed would be unable to raise rates sufficiently to bring it under control.

The feds’ only option is inflation... more inflation... sustained inflation at levels high enough to reduce the real value of US debt. Wait for it."

"A Simple Choice..."

"It comes down to a simple choice, really. 
Get busy living or get busy dying."
- "Andy Dufresne", "Shawshank Redemption"

"How It Really Is"

 

Dan, I Allegedly, "Are Things Really That Bad?"

Full screen recommended.
Dan, I Allegedly, AM 5/9/24
"Are Things Really That Bad?"
Is the economy really in bad shape? How do you feel? 
Do you think things are going to improve? Or do things get worse from here?
Comments here:

"Wars And Rumors Of War: The Middle East"

Full screen recommended.
Scott Ritter, 5/9/24
"Warning: Israel and Iran's Escalating 
Conflict Threatens Middle East Explosion"
Comments here:
o
Full screen recommended.
Times of India, 5/9/24
"Iran-Linked Fighters Bomb IDF Barracks In Golan Heights; 
Back To Back Missiles Barrage"
"Hezbollah launched drones and missile attacks at military installations in Al Metula, Shlomi, and Manara.Sirens were sounded across golan heights to warn of imminent threat from Hezbollah's drones. Israeli media reports casualties and significant damage to military personnel and installations. Major fatalities were reported in Malikieh and Avivim military barracks."
Comments here:

Col. Douglas Macgregor states that Hezbollah has 200,000 missiles...
o
Full screen recommended.
Oneindia News, 5/9/24
"Hezbollah Takes Revenge For Rafah: 
Israeli Army Suffers Massive Blow In New Missile Blitz"
"Hezbollah launched coordinated strikes on Israeli targets in Northern Palestine, including barracks and military buildings, in support of Gaza and retaliation for Israeli attacks on southern Lebanese villages. The clashes have caused casualties and displacement on both sides, with Hezbollah vowing to continue until Israel halts aggression against Gaza."
Comments here:
o
Full screen recommended.
Times Of India, 5/9/24
"'Will Hit Israel...': Iran's Big Nuclear Threat 
After Khamenei's 'Call For Action' Over Gaza"
"Iran will have to “change” its nuclear doctrine if its existence is threatened by Israel, says an adviser to Iran’s supreme leader, Kamal Kharrazi, raising renewed concerns about an Iranian nuclear program that Israel and others say has been focused for decades on producing an atomic weapon anyway."
Comments here:
o
Full screen recommended.
Scott Ritter, 5/9/24
"Israel has Breached Camp David Accords 
and Declared War. Will Egypt Respond?"
Comments here:

Adventures With Danno, "Kroger Items Everyone Should Be Buying This Week! Saving Big Money!"

Adventures With Danno, AM 5/9/24
"Kroger Items Everyone Should Be Buying This Week! 
Saving Big Money!"
Comments here:

Gregory Mannarino, "Alert! My Strongest Warning To Date!"

Gregory Mannarino, AM 5/9/24
"Alert! My Strongest Warning To Date!"
Comments here:

"The Pig Farmer"

"The Pig Farmer"
by John Robbins

"One day in Iowa I met a particular gentleman - and I use that term, gentleman, frankly, only because I am trying to be polite, for that is certainly not how I saw him at the time. He owned and ran what he called a “pork production facility.” I, on the other hand, would have called it a pig Auschwitz. The conditions were brutal. The pigs were confined in cages that were barely larger than their own bodies, with the cages stacked on top of each other in tiers, three high. The sides and the bottoms of the cages were steel slats, so that excrement from the animals in the upper and middle tiers dropped through the slats on to the animals below.

The aforementioned owner of this nightmare weighed, I am sure, at least 240 pounds, but what was even more impressive about his appearance was that he seemed to be made out of concrete. His movements had all the fluidity and grace of a brick wall. What made him even less appealing was that his language seemed to consist mainly of grunts, many of which sounded alike to me, and none of which were particularly pleasant to hear. Seeing how rigid he was and sensing the overall quality of his presence, I - rather brilliantly, I thought - concluded that his difficulties had not arisen merely because he hadn’t had time, that particular morning, to finish his entire daily yoga routine.

But I wasn’t about to divulge my opinions of him or his operation, for I was undercover, visiting slaughterhouses and feedlots to learn what I could about modern meat production. There were no bumper stickers on my car, and my clothes and hairstyle were carefully chosen to give no indication that I might have philosophical leanings other than those that were common in the area. I told the farmer matter of factly that I was a researcher writing about animal agriculture, and asked if he’d mind speaking with me for a few minutes so that I might have the benefit of his knowledge. In response, he grunted a few words that I could not decipher, but that I gathered meant I could ask him questions and he would show me around.

I was at this point not very happy about the situation, and this feeling did not improve when we entered one of the warehouses that housed his pigs. In fact, my distress increased, for I was immediately struck by what I can only call an overpowering olfactory experience. The place reeked like you would not believe of ammonia, hydrogen sulfide, and other noxious gases that were the products of the animals’ wastes. These, unfortunately, seemed to have been piling up inside the building for far too long a time.

As nauseating as the stench was for me, I wondered what it must be like for the animals. The cells that detect scent are known as ethmoidal cells. Pigs, like dogs, have nearly 200 times the concentration of these cells in their noses as humans do. In a natural setting, they are able, while rooting around in the dirt, to detect the scent of an edible root through the earth itself. Given any kind of a chance, they will never soil their own nests, for they are actually quite clean animals, despite the reputation we have unfairly given them. But here they had no contact with the earth, and their noses were beset by the unceasing odor of their own urine and feces multiplied a thousand times by the accumulated wastes of the other pigs unfortunate enough to be caged in that warehouse. I was in the building only for a few minutes, and the longer I remained in there, the more desperately I wanted to leave. But the pigs were prisoners there, barely able to take a single step, forced to endure this stench, and almost completely immobile, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and with no time off, I can assure you, for holidays.

The man who ran the place was - I’ll give him this - kind enough to answer my questions, which were mainly about the drugs he used to handle the problems that are fairly common in factory pigs today. But my sentiments about him and his farm were not becoming any warmer. It didn’t help when, in response to a particularly loud squealing from one of the pigs, he delivered a sudden and threatening kick to the bars of its cage, causing a loud “clang” to reverberate through the warehouse and leading to screaming from many of the pigs. Because it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my distress, it crossed my mind that I should tell him what I thought of the conditions in which he kept his pigs, but then I thought better of it. This was a man, it was obvious, with whom there was no point in arguing.

After maybe 15 minutes, I’d had enough and was preparing to leave, and I felt sure he was glad to be about to be rid of me. But then something happened, something that changed my life, forever - and, as it turns out, his too. It began when his wife came out from the farmhouse and cordially invited me to stay for dinner. The pig farmer grimaced when his wife spoke, but he dutifully turned to me and announced, “The wife would like you to stay for dinner.” He always called her “the wife,” by the way, which led me to deduce that he was not, apparently, on the leading edge of feminist thought in the country today.

I don’t know whether you have ever done something without having a clue why, and to this day I couldn’t tell you what prompted me to do it, but I said Yes, I’d be delighted. And stay for dinner I did, though I didn’t eat the pork they served. The excuse I gave was that my doctor was worried about my cholesterol. I didn’t say that I was a vegetarian, nor that my cholesterol was 125.

I was trying to be a polite and appropriate dinner guest. I didn’t want to say anything that might lead to any kind of disagreement. The couple (and their two sons, who were also at the table) were, I could see, being nice to me, giving me dinner and all, and it was gradually becoming clear to me that, along with all the rest of it, they could be, in their way, somewhat decent people. I asked myself, if they were in my town, traveling, and I had chanced to meet them, would I have invited them to dinner? Not likely, I knew, not likely at all. Yet here they were, being as hospitable to me as they could. Yes, I had to admit it. Much as I detested how the pigs were treated, this pig farmer wasn’t actually the reincarnation of Adolph Hitler. At least not at the moment.

Of course, I still knew that if we were to scratch the surface we’d no doubt find ourselves in great conflict, and because that was not a direction in which I wanted to go, as the meal went along I sought to keep things on an even and constant keel. Perhaps they sensed it too, for among us, we managed to see that the conversation remained, consistently and resolutely, shallow. We talked about the weather, about the Little League games in which their two sons played, and then, of course, about how the weather might affect the Little League games. We were actually doing rather well at keeping the conversation superficial and far from any topic around which conflict might occur. Or so I thought. But then suddenly, out of nowhere, the man pointed at me forcefully with his finger, and snarled in a voice that I must say truly frightened me, “Sometimes I wish you animal rights people would just drop dead.”

How on Earth he knew I had any affinity to animal rights I will never know - I had painstakingly avoided any mention of any such thing - but I do know that my stomach tightened immediately into a knot. To make matters worse, at that moment his two sons leapt from the table, tore into the den, slammed the door behind them, and turned the TV on loud, presumably preparing to drown out what was to follow. At the same instant, his wife nervously picked up some dishes and scurried into the kitchen. As I watched the door close behind her and heard the water begin running, I had a sinking sensation. They had, there was no mistaking it, left me alone with him. I was, to put it bluntly, terrified. Under the circumstances, a wrong move now could be disastrous. Trying to center myself, I tried to find some semblance of inner calm by watching my breath, but this I could not do, and for a very simple reason. There wasn’t any to watch.

“What are they saying that’s so upsetting to you?” I said finally, pronouncing the words carefully and distinctly, trying not to show my terror. I was trying very hard at that moment to disassociate myself from the animal rights movement, a force in our society of which he, evidently, was not overly fond. “They accuse me of mistreating my stock,” he growled. “Why would they say a thing like that?” I answered, knowing full well, of course, why they would, but thinking mostly about my own survival. His reply, to my surprise, while angry, was actually quite articulate. He told me precisely what animal rights groups were saying about operations like his, and exactly why they were opposed to his way of doing things. Then, without pausing, he launched into a tirade about how he didn’t like being called cruel, and they didn’t know anything about the business he was in, and why couldn’t they mind their own business.

As he spoke it, the knot in my stomach was relaxing, because it was becoming clear, and I was glad of it, that he meant me no harm, but just needed to vent. Part of his frustration, it seemed, was that even though he didn’t like doing some of the things he did to the animals -cooping them up in such small cages, using so many drugs, taking the babies away from their mothers so quickly after their births - he didn’t see that he had any choice. He would be at a disadvantage and unable to compete economically if he didn’t do things that way. This is how it’s done today, he told me, and he had to do it too. He didn’t like it, but he liked even less being blamed for doing what he had to do in order to feed his family. As it happened, I had just the week before been at a much larger hog operation, where I learned that it was part of their business strategy to try to put people like him out of business by going full-tilt into the mass production of assembly-line pigs, so that small farmers wouldn’t be able to keep up. What I had heard corroborated everything he was saying.

Almost despite myself, I began to grasp the poignancy of this man’s human predicament. I was in his home because he and his wife had invited me to be there. And looking around, it was obvious that they were having a hard time making ends meet. Things were threadbare. This family was on the edge. Raising pigs, apparently, was the only way the farmer knew how to make a living, so he did it even though, as was becoming evident the more we talked, he didn’t like one bit the direction hog farming was going. At times, as he spoke about how much he hated the modern factory methods of pork production, he reminded me of the very animal rights people who a few minutes before he said he wished would drop dead.

As the conversation progressed, I actually began to develop some sense of respect for this man whom I had earlier judged so harshly. There was decency in him. There was something within him that meant well. But as I began to sense a spirit of goodness in him, I could only wonder all the more how he could treat his pigs the way he did. Little did I know that I was about to find out. . .

We are talking along, when suddenly he looks troubled. He slumps over, his head in his hands. He looks broken, and there is a sense of something awful having happened. Has he had a heart attack? A stroke? I’m finding it hard to breathe, and hard to think clearly. “What’s happening?” I ask. It takes him awhile to answer, but finally he does. I am relieved that he is able to speak, although what he says hardly brings any clarity to the situation. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, “and I don’t want to talk about it.” As he speaks, he makes a motion with his hand, as if he were pushing something away.

For the next several minutes we continue to converse, but I’m quite uneasy. Things seem incomplete and confusing. Something dark has entered the room, and I don’t know what it is or how to deal with it. Then, as we are speaking, it happens again. Once again a look of despondency comes over him. Sitting there, I know I’m in the presence of something bleak and oppressive. I try to be present with what’s happening, but it’s not easy. Again I’m finding it hard to breathe. Finally, he looks at me, and I notice his eyes are teary. “You’re right,” he says. I, of course, always like to be told that I am right, but in this instance I don’t have the slightest idea what he’s talking about. He continues. “No animal,” he says, “should be treated like that. Especially hogs. Do you know that they’re intelligent animals? They’re even friendly, if you treat ’em right. But I don’t.”

There are tears welling up in his eyes. And he tells me that he has just had a memory come back of something that happened in his childhood, something he hasn’t thought of for many years. It’s come back in stages, he says. He grew up, he tells me, on a small farm in rural Missouri, the old-fashioned kind where animals ran around, with barnyards and pastures, and where they all had names. I learn, too, that he was an only child, the son of a powerful father who ran things with an iron fist. With no brothers or sisters, he often felt lonely, but found companionship among the animals on the farm, particularly several dogs, who were as friends to him. And, he tells me, and this I am quite surprised to hear, he had a pet pig.

As he proceeds to tell me about this pig, it is as if he is becoming a different person. Before he had spoken primarily in a monotone; but now his voice grows lively. His body language, which until this point seemed to speak primarily of long suffering, now becomes animated. There is something fresh taking place. In the summer, he tells me, he would sleep in the barn. It was cooler there than in the house, and the pig would come over and sleep alongside him, asking fondly to have her belly rubbed, which he was glad to do.

There was a pond on their property, he goes on, and he liked to swim in it when the weather was hot, but one of the dogs would get excited when he did, and would ruin things. The dog would jump into the water and swim up on top of him, scratching him with her paws and making things miserable for him. He was about to give up on swimming, but then, as fate would have it, the pig, of all people, stepped in and saved the day. Evidently the pig could swim, for she would plop herself into the water, swim out where the dog was bothering the boy, and insert herself between them. She’d stay between the dog and the boy, and keep the dog at bay. She was, as best I could make out, functioning in the situation something like a lifeguard, or in this case, perhaps more of a life-pig.

I’m listening to this hog farmer tell me these stories about his pet pig, and I’m thoroughly enjoying both myself and him, and rather astounded at how things are transpiring, when once again, it happens. Once again a look of defeat sweeps across this man’s face, and once again I sense the presence of something very sad. Something in him, I know, is struggling to make its way toward life through anguish and pain, but I don’t know what it is or how, indeed, to help him.

“What happened to your pig?” I ask.
He sighs, and it’s as though the whole world’s pain is contained in that sigh. Then, slowly, he speaks. “My father made me butcher it.”
“Did you?” I ask.
“I ran away, but I couldn’t hide. They found me.”
“What happened?”
“My father gave me a choice.”
“What was that?”
“He told me, ‘You either slaughter that animal or you’re no longer my son.’”

Some choice, I think, feeling the weight of how fathers have so often trained their sons not to care, to be what they call brave and strong, but what so often turns out to be callous and closed-hearted. “So I did it,” he says, and now his tears begin to flow, making their way down his cheeks. I am touched and humbled. This man, whom I had judged to be without human feeling, is weeping in front of me, a stranger. This man, whom I had seen as callous and even heartless, is actually someone who cares, and deeply. How wrong, how profoundly and terribly wrong I had been.

In the minutes that follow, it becomes clear to me what has been happening. The pig farmer has remembered something that was so painful, that was such a profound trauma, that he had not been able to cope with it when it had happened. Something had shut down, then. It was just too much to bear. Somewhere in his young, formative psyche he made a resolution never to be that hurt again, never to be that vulnerable again. And he built a wall around the place where the pain had occurred, which was the place where his love and attachment to that pig was located, which was his heart. And now here he was, slaughtering pigs for a living - still, I imagined, seeking his father’s approval. God, what we men will do, I thought, to get our fathers’ acceptance.

I had thought he was a cold and closed human being, but now I saw the truth. His rigidity was not a result of a lack of feeling, as I had thought it was, but quite the opposite: it was a sign of how sensitive he was underneath. For if he had not been so sensitive, he would not have been that hurt, and he would not have needed to put up so massive a wall. The tension in his body that was so apparent to me upon first meeting him, the body armor that he carried, bespoke how hurt he had been, and how much capacity for feeling he carried still, beneath it all.

I had judged him, and done so, to be honest, mercilessly. But for the rest of the evening I sat with him, humbled, and grateful for whatever it was in him that had been strong enough to force this long-buried and deeply painful memory to the surface. And glad, too, that I had not stayed stuck in my judgments of him, for if I had, I would not have provided an environment in which his remembering could have occurred.

We talked that night, for hours, about many things. I was, after all that had happened, concerned for him. The gap between his feelings and his lifestyle seemed so tragically vast. What could he do? This was all he knew. He did not have a high school diploma. He was only partially literate. Who would hire him if he tried to do something else? Who would invest in him and train him, at his age? When finally, I left that evening, these questions were very much on my mind, and I had no answers to them. Somewhat flippantly, I tried to joke about it. “Maybe,” I said, “you’ll grow broccoli or something.” He stared at me, clearly not comprehending what I might be talking about. It occurred to me, briefly, that he might possibly not know what broccoli was.

We parted that night as friends, and though we rarely see each other now, we have remained friends as the years have passed. I carry him in my heart and think of him, in fact, as a hero. Because, as you will soon see, impressed as I was by the courage it had taken for him to allow such painful memories to come to the surface, I had not yet seen the extent of his bravery.

When I wrote "Diet for a New America," I quoted him and summarized what he had told me, but I was quite brief and did not mention his name. I thought that, living as he did among other pig farmers in Iowa, it would not be to his benefit to be associated with me. When the book came out, I sent him a copy, saying I hoped he was comfortable with how I wrote of the evening we had shared, and directing him to the pages on which my discussion of our time together was to be found. Several weeks later, I received a letter from him. “Dear Mr. Robbins,” it began. “Thank you for the book. When I saw it, I got a migraine headache.”

Now as an author, you do want to have an impact on your readers. This, however, was not what I had had in mind. He went on, though, to explain that the headaches had gotten so bad that, as he put it, “the wife” had suggested to him he should perhaps read the book. She thought there might be some kind of connection between the headaches and the book. He told me that this hadn’t made much sense to him, but he had done it because “the wife” was often right about these things.

“You write good,” he told me, and I can tell you that his three words of his meant more to me than when the New York Times praised the book profusely. He then went on to say that reading the book was very hard for him, because the light it shone on what he was doing made it clear to him that it was wrong to continue. The headaches, meanwhile, had been getting worse, until, he told me, that very morning, when he had finished the book, having stayed up all night reading, he went into the bathroom, and looked into the mirror. “I decided, right then,” he said, “that I would sell my herd and get out of this business. I don’t know what I will do, though. Maybe I will, like you said, grow broccoli.”

As it happened, he did sell his operation in Iowa and move back to Missouri, where he bought a small farm. And there he is today, running something of a model farm. He grows vegetables organically - including, I am sure, broccoli - that he sells at a local farmer’s market. He’s got pigs, all right, but only about 10, and he doesn’t cage them, nor does he kill them. Instead, he’s got a contract with local schools; they bring kids out in buses on field trips to his farm, for his “Pet-a-pig” program. He shows them how intelligent pigs are and how friendly they can be if you treat them right, which he now does. He’s arranged it so the kids, each one of them, gets a chance to give a pig a belly rub. He’s become nearly a vegetarian himself, has lost most of his excess weight, and his health has improved substantially. And, thank goodness, he’s actually doing better financially than he was before.

Do you see why I carry this man with me in my heart? Do you see why he is such a hero to me? He dared to leap, to risk everything, to leave what was killing his spirit even though he didn’t know what was next. He left behind a way of life that he knew was wrong, and he found one that he knows is right.

When I look at many of the things happening in our world, I sometimes fear we won’t make it. But when I remember this man and the power of his spirit, and when I remember that there are many others whose hearts beat to the same quickening pulse, I think we will. I can get tricked into thinking there aren’t enough of us to turn the tide, but then I remember how wrong I was about the pig farmer when I first met him, and I realize that there are heroes afoot everywhere. Only I can’t recognize them because I think they are supposed to look or act a certain way. How blinded I can be by my own beliefs.

The man is one of my heroes because he reminds me that we can depart from the cages we build for ourselves and for each other, and become something much better. He is one of my heroes because he reminds me of what I hope someday to become. When I first met him, I would not have thought it possible that I would ever say the things I am saying here. But this only goes to show how amazing life can be, and how you never really know what to expect. The pig farmer has become, for me, a reminder never to underestimate the power of the human heart.

I consider myself privileged to have spent that day with him, and grateful that I was allowed to be a catalyst for the unfolding of his spirit. I know my presence served him in some way, but I also know, and know full well, that I received far more than I gave. To me, this is grace - to have the veils lifted from our eyes so that we can recognize and serve the goodness in each other. Others may wish for great riches or for ecstatic journeys to mystical planes, but to me, this is the magic of human life."

"It Is Only When..."

"Happily men don't realize how stupid they are, or half the world would commit suicide. Knowledge is a will-of-the-wisp, fluttering ever out of the traveller's reach; and a weary journey must be endured before it is even seen. It is only when a man knows a good deal that he discovers how unfathomable is his ignorance. The man who knows nothing is satisfied that there is nothing to know, consequently that he knows everything; and you may more easily persuade him that the moon is made of green cheese than that he is not omniscient."
- W. Somerset Maugham
“It takes considerable knowledge just to
realize the extent of your own ignorance.”
- Thomas Sowell