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Wednesday, October 8, 2025

"The Car Market Collapse Has Begun And Dealers Are Freaking Out"

Full screen recommended.
Epic Economist 10/8/25
"The Car Market Collapse Has 
Begun And Dealers Are Freaking Out"

"The car market just lost half a million sales in one month. Tricolor, a lender with 65 dealerships filed for bankruptcy. Bosch is cutting 13,000 jobs. Delinquencies hit a 15-year high. But here’s the thing: the real crisis isn’t the sales numbers. Because what’s actually happening is millions of Americans are trapped. The average car costs $46,000 with $750 monthly payments at 9% interest. People owe $60,000 on cars worth $30,000. They can’t sell. They can’t refinance. And one dealership even told a 20-year-old to commit insurance fraud on camera just to move inventory. Let me show you the real stories about this car market collapse.

The auto industry is flashing major warning signs. Sales are down, delinquencies are at decade highs. Ford is offering lower rates to subprime borrowers just to move F-150s. Honda scrapped an electric Acura after one year. The desperation is palpable. The parallel with housing is stunning: both markets are frozen, both have affordability crises, both have people trapped in negative equity. If you’re thinking about buying a car right now, buy a used Toyota or Honda with cash. The people sitting on the sidelines with cash will win when this car market collapses."
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Jeremiah Babe, "Laying Low In Alabama Before The Economic Reckoning Hits, Civil Unrest And War Will Follow""

Jeremiah Babe, 10/8/25
"Laying Low In Alabama Before The Economic 
Reckoning Hits, Civil Unrest And War Will Follow""
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Gerald Celente, "Presidents Kill, Wars Rage, The FEDS Control Us"

Gerald Celente, 10/8/25
"Presidents Kill, Wars Rage, The FEDS Control Us"
"The Trends Journal is a weekly magazine analyzing global current events forming future trends. Our mission is to present Facts and Truth over fear and propaganda to help subscribers prepare for What’s Next in these increasingly turbulent times."
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The Daily "Near You?"

Marceline, Missouri, USA. Thanks for stopping by!

"The Object Of Life..."

 

"We work in the dark. We do what we can to battle the evil that would otherwise destroy us. But if a man's character is his fate, it's not a choice but a calling. Sometimes the weight of this burden causes us to falter from the fragile fortress of our mind, allowing the monster without to turn within. We are left alone staring into the abyss, into the laughing face of madness."
- Fox Mulder, "X-Files"

“The Last Night of the World”

“The Last Night of the World”
Originally published in the February 1951 issue of Esquire.
by Ray Bradbury

“What would you do if you knew this was the last night of the world?”
“What would I do; you mean, seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“I don’t know – I hadn’t thought.” She turned the handle of the silver coffeepot toward him and placed the two cups in their saucers. He poured some coffee. In the background, the two small girls were playing blocks on the parlor rug in the light of the green hurricane lamps. There was an easy, clean aroma of brewed coffee in the evening air.
“Well, better start thinking about it,” he said.
“You don’t mean it?” said his wife.
He nodded.
“A war?”
He shook his head.
“Not the hydrogen or atom bomb?”
“No.”
“Or germ warfare?”
“None of those at all,” he said, stirring his coffee slowly and staring into its black depths. “But just the closing of a book, let’s say.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“No, nor do I really. It’s jut a feeling; sometimes it frightens me, sometimes I’m not frightened at all – but peaceful.” He glanced in at the girls and their yellow hair shining in the bright lamplight, and lowered his voice. “I didn’t say anything to you. It first happened about four nights ago.”
“What?”
“A dream I had. I dreamt that it was all going to be over and a voice said it was; not any kind of voice I can remember, but a voice anyway, and it said things would stop here on Earth. I didn’t think too much about it when I awoke the next morning, but then I went to work and the feeling as with me all day. I caught Stan Willis looking out the window in the middle of the afternoon and I said, ‘Penny for your thoughts, Stan,’ and he said, ‘I had a dream last night,’ and before he even told me the dream, I knew what it was. I could have told him, but he told me and I listened to him.”
“It was the same dream?”
“Yes. I told Stan I had dreamed it, too. He didn’t seem surprised. He relaxed, in fact. Then we started walking through offices, for the hell of it. It wasn’t planned. We didn’t say, let’s walk around. We just walked on our own, and everywhere we saw people looking at their desks or their hands or out the windows and not seeing what was in front of their eyes. I talked to a few of them; so did Stan.”
“And all of them had dreamed?”
“All of them. The same dream, with no difference.”
“Do you believe in the dream?”
“Yes. I’ve never been more certain.”
“And when will it stop? The world, I mean.”
“Sometime during the night for us, and then, as the night goes on around the world, those advancing portions will go, too. It’ll take twenty-four hours for it all to go.”
They sat awhile not touching their coffee. Then they lifted it slowly and drank, looking at each other.
“Do we deserve this?” she said.
“It’s not a matter of deserving, it’s just that things didn’t work out. I notice you didn’t even argue about this. Why not?”
“I guess I have a reason,” she said.
“The same reason everyone at the office had?”
She nodded. “I didn’t want to say anything. It happened last night. And the women on the block are talking about it, just among themselves.” She picked up the evening paper and held it toward him. “There’s nothing in the news about it.”
“No, everyone knows, so what’s the need?” He took the paper and sat back in his chair, looking at the girls and then at her. “Are you afraid?”
“No. Not even for the children. I always thought I would be frightened to death, but I’m not.”
“Where’s that spirit of self-preservation the scientists talk about so much?”
“I don’t know. You don’t get too excited when you feel things are logical. This is logical. Nothing else but this could have happened from the way we’ve lived.”
“We haven’t been too bad, have we?”
“No, nor enormously good. I suppose that’s the trouble. We haven’t been very much of anything except us, while a big part of the world was busy being lots of quite awful things.”
The girls were laughing in the parlor as they waved their hands and tumbled down their house of blocks.
“I always imagined people would be screaming in the streets at a time like this.”
“I guess not. You don’t scream about the real thing.”
“Do you know, I won’t miss anything but you and the girls. I never liked cities or autos or factories or my work or anything except you three. I won’t miss a thing except my family and perhaps the change in the weather and a glass of cool water when the weather’s hot, or the luxury of sleeping. Just little things, really. How can we sit here and talk this way?”
“Because there’s nothing else to do.”
“That’s it, of course, for if there were, we’d be doing it. I suppose this is the first time in the history of the world that everyone has really known just what they were going to be doing during the last night.”
“I wonder what everyone else will do now, this evening, for the next few hours.”
“Go to a show, listen to the radio, watch the TV, play cards, put the children to bed, get to bed themselves, like always.”
“In a way that’s something to be proud of – like always.”
“We’re not all bad.”
They sat a moment and then he poured more coffee. “Why do you suppose it’s tonight?”
“Because.”
“Why not some night in the past ten years of in the last century, or five centuries ago or ten?”
“Maybe it’s because it was never February 30, 1951, ever before in history, and now it is and that’s it, because this date means more than any other date ever meant and because it’s the year when things are as they are all over the world and that’s why it’s the end.”
“There are bombers on their course both ways across the ocean tonight that’ll never see land again.”
“That’s part of the reason why.”
“Well,” he said. “What shall it be? Wash the dishes?”
They washed the dishes carefully and stacked them away with especial neatness. At eight-thirty the girls were put to bed and kissed good night and the little lights by their beds turned on and the door left a trifle open.
“I wonder,” said the husband, coming out and looking back, standing there with his pipe for a moment.”
“What?”
“If the door should be shut all the way or if it should be left just a little ajar so we can hear them if they call.”
“I wonder if the children know – if anyone mentioned anything to them?”
“No, of course not. They’d have asked us about it.”
They sat and read the papers and talked and listened to some radio music and then sat together by the fireplace looking at the charcoal embers as the clock struck ten-thirty and eleven and eleven-thirty. They thought of all the other people in the world who had spent their evening, each in their own special way.
“Well,” he said at last. He kissed his wife for a long time.
“We’ve been good for each other, anyway.”
“Do you want to cry?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.”
They went through the house and turned out the lights and locked the doors, and went into the bedroom and stood in the night cool darkness undressing. She took the spread from the bed and folded it carefully over a chair, as always, and pushed back the covers. “The sheets are so cool and clean and nice,” she said.
“I’m tired.”
“We’re both tired.”
They got into bed and lay back.
“Wait a moment,” she said.
He heard her get up and go out into the back of the house, and then he heard the soft shuffling of a swinging door. A moment later she was back. “I left the water running in the kitchen,” she said. “I turned the faucet off.”
Something about this was so funny that he had to laugh. She laughed with him, knowing what it was that she had done that was so funny. They stopped laughing at last and lay in their cool night bed, their hands clasped, their heads together.
“Good night,” he said, after a moment.
“Good night,” she said, adding softly, “dear…”

Laurence Gonzales, “The 12 Rules of Survival”

The 12 Rules of Survival”
by Laurence Gonzales

“As a journalist, I’ve been writing about accidents for more than thirty years. In the last 20 or so years, I’ve concentrated on accidents in outdoor recreation, in an effort to understand who lives, who dies, and why. To my surprise, I found an eerie uniformity in the way people survive seemingly impossible circumstances. Decades and sometimes centuries apart, separated by culture, geography, race, language, and tradition, the most successful survivors–those who practice what I call “deep survival”– go through the same patterns of thought and behavior, the same transformation and spiritual discovery, in the course of keeping themselves alive.

Not only that but it doesn’t seem to matter whether they are surviving being lost in the wilderness or battling cancer, whether they’re struggling through divorce or facing a business catastrophe– the strategies remain the same. Survival should be thought of as a journey, a vision quest of the sort that Native Americans have had as a rite of passage for thousands of years. Once you’re past the precipitating event– you’re cast away at sea or told you have cancer– you have been enrolled in one of the oldest schools in history. Here are a few things I’ve learned that can help you pass the final exam.

1. Perceive and Believe: Don’t fall into the deadly trap of denial or of immobilizing fear. Admit it: You’re really in trouble and you’re going to have to get yourself out. Many people who in the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, died simply because they told themselves that everything was going to be all right. Others panicked. Panic doesn’t necessarily mean screaming and running around. Often it means simply doing nothing. Survivors don’t candy-coat the truth, but they also don’t give in to hopelessness in the face of it. Survivors see opportunity, even good, in their situation, however grim. After the ordeal is over, people may be surprised to hear them say it was the best thing that ever happened to them.

Viktor Frankl, who spent three years in Auschwitz and other Nazi concentration camps, describes comforting a woman who was dying. She told him, “I am grateful that fate has hit me so hard. In my former life I was spoiled and did not take spiritual accomplishments seriously.” The phases of the survival journey roughly parallel the five stages of death once described by Elizabeth Kubler Ross in her book On Death and Dying: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. In dire circumstances, a survivor moves through those stages rapidly to acceptance of his situation, then resolves to do something to save himself. Survival depends on telling yourself, “Okay, I’m here. This is really happening. Now I’m going to do the next right thing to get myself out.” Whether you succeed or not ultimately becomes irrelevant. It is in acting well– even suffering well– that you give meaning to whatever life you have to live.

2. Stay Calm – Use Your Anger: In the initial crisis, survivors are not ruled by fear; instead, they make use of it. Their fear often feels like (and turns into) anger, which motivates them and makes them feel sharper. Aron Ralston, the hiker who had to cut off his hand to free himself from a stone that had trapped him in a slot canyon in Utah, initially panicked and began slamming himself over and over against the boulder that had caught his hand. But very quickly, he stopped himself, did some deep breathing, and began thinking about his options. He eventually spent five days progressing through the stages necessary to convince him of what decisive action he had to take to save his own life.

When Lance Armstrong, six-time winner of the Tour de France, awoke from brain surgery for his cancer, he first felt gratitude. “But then I felt a second wave, of anger… I was alive, and I was mad.” When friends asked him how he was doing, he responded, “I’m doing great… I like it like this. I like the odds stacked against me… I don’t know any other way.” That’s survivor thinking. Survivors also manage pain well. As a bike racer, Armstrong had had long training in enduring pain, even learning to love it. James Stockdale, a fighter pilot who was shot down in Vietnam and spent eight years in the Hanoi Hilton, as his prison camp was known, advised those who would learn to survive: “One should include a course of familiarization with pain. You have to practice hurting. There is no question about it.”

3. Think, Analyze, and Plan: Survivors quickly organize, set up routines, and institute discipline. When Lance Armstrong was diagnosed with cancer, he organized his fight against it the way he would organize his training for a race. He read everything he could about it, put himself on a training schedule, and put together a team from among friends, family, and doctors to support his efforts. Such conscious, organized effort in the face of grave danger requires a split between reason and emotion in which reason gives direction and emotion provides the power source. Survivors often report experiencing reason as an audible “voice.”

Steve Callahan, a sailor and boat designer, was rammed by a whale and sunk while on a solo voyage in 1982. Adrift in the Atlantic for 76 days in a five-and-a-half-foot raft, he experienced his survival voyage as taking place under the command of a “captain,” who gave him his orders and kept him on his water ration, even as his own mutinous (emotional) spirit complained. His captain routinely lectured “the crew.” Thus under strict control, he was able to push away thoughts that his situation was hopeless and take the necessary first steps of the survival journey: to think clearly, analyze his situation, and formulate a plan.

4. Take Correct, Decisive Action: Survivors are willing to take risks to save themselves and others. But they are simultaneously bold and cautious in what they will do. Lauren Elder was the only survivor of a light plane crash in high sierra. Stranded on a peak above 12,000 feet, one arm broken, she could see the San Joaquin Valley in California below, but a vast wilderness and sheer and icy cliffs separated her from it. Wearing a wrap-around skirt and blouse, with two-inch heeled boots and not even wearing underwear, she crawled “on all fours, doing a kind of sideways spiderwalk,” as she put it later, “balancing myself on the ice crust, punching through it with my hands and feet.” She had 36 hours of climbing ahead of her– a seemingly impossible task. But Elder allowed herself to think only as far as the next big rock. Survivors break down large jobs into small, manageable tasks. They set attainable goals and develop short-term plans to reach them. They are meticulous about doing those tasks well. Elder tested each hold before moving forward and stopped frequently to rest. They make very few mistakes. They handle what is within their power to deal with from moment to moment, hour to hour, day to day.

5. Celebrate your success: Survivors take great joy from even their smallest successes. This helps keep motivation high and prevents a lethal plunge into hopelessness. It also provides relief from the unspeakable strain of a life-threatening situation. Elder said that once she had completed her descent of the first pitch, she looked up at the impossibly steep slope and thought, “Look what you’ve done…Exhilarated, I gave a whoop that echoed down the silent pass.” Even with a broken arm, joy was Elder’s constant companion. A good survivor always tells herself: count your blessings– you’re alive. Viktor Frankl wrote of how he felt at times in Auschwitz: “How content we were; happy in spite of everything.”

6. Be a Rescuer, Not a Victim: Survivors are always doing what they do for someone else, even if that someone is thousands of miles away. There are numerous strategies for doing this. When Antoine Saint-Exupery was stranded in the Libyan desert after his mail plane suffered an engine failure, he thought of how his wife would suffer if he gave up and didn’t return. Yossi Ghinsberg, a young Israeli hiker, was lost in the Bolivian jungle for more than two weeks after becoming separated from his friends. He hallucinated a beautiful companion with whom he slept each night as he traveled. Everything he did, he did for her. People cannot survive for themselves alone; their must be a higher motive. Viktor Frankl put it this way: “Don’t aim at success– the more you aim at it and make it a target,the more you are going to miss it.” He suggests taking it as “the unintended side-effect of one’s personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one’s surrender to a person other than oneself.”

7. Enjoy the Survival Journey: It may seem counterintuitive, but even in the worst circumstances, survivors find something to enjoy, some way to play and laugh. Survival can be tedious, and waiting itself is an art. Elder found herself laughing out loud when she started to worry that someone might see up her skirt as she climbed. Even as Callahan’s boat was sinking, he stopped to laugh at himself as he clutched a knife in his teeth like a pirate while trying to get into his life raft. And Viktor Frankl ordered some of his companions in Auschwitz who were threatening to give up hope to force themselves to think of one funny thing each day. Survivors also use the intellect to stimulate, calm, and entertain the mind.

While moving across a near-vertical cliff face in Peru, Joe Simpson developed a rhythmic pattern of placing his ax, plunging his other arm into the snow face, and then making a frightening little hop with his good leg. “I meticulously repeated the pattern,” he wrote later. “I began to feel detached from everything around me.” Singing, playing mind games, reciting poetry, counting anything, and doing mathematical problems in your head can make waiting possible and even pleasant, even while heightening perception and quieting fear. Stockdale wrote, “The person who came into this experiment with reams of already memorized poetry was the bearer of great gifts.”

Lost in the Bolivian jungle, Yossi Ghinsberg reported, “When I found myself feeling hopeless, I whispered my mantra, ‘Man of action, man of action.’ I don’t know where I had gotten the phrase… I repeated it over and over: A man of action does whatever he must, isn’t afraid, and doesn’t worry.” Survivors engage their crisis almost as an athlete engages a sport. They cling to talismans. They discover the sense of flow of the expert performer, the “zone” in which emotion and thought balance each other in producing fluid action. A playful approach to a critical situation also leads to invention, and invention may lead to a new technique, strategy, or design that could save you.

8. See the Beauty: Survivors are attuned to the wonder of their world, especially in the face of mortal danger. The appreciation of beauty, the feeling of awe, opens the senses to the environment. (When you see something beautiful, your pupils actually dilate.) Debbie Kiley and four others were adrift in the Atlantic after their boat sank in a hurricane in 1982. They had no supplies, no water, and would die without rescue. Two of the crew members drank sea water and went mad. When one of them jumped overboard and was being eaten by sharks directly under their dinghy, Kiley felt as if she, too, were going mad, and told herself, “Focus on the sky, on the beauty there.”

When Saint-Exupery’s plane went down in the Libyan Desert, he was certain that he was doomed, but he carried on in this spirit: “Here we are, condemned to death, and still the certainty of dying cannot compare with the pleasure I am feeling. The joy I take from this half an orange which I am holding in my hand is one of the greatest joys I have ever known.” At no time did he stop to bemoan his fate, or if he did, it was only to laugh at himself.

9. Believe That You Will Succeed: It is at this point, following what I call “the vision,” that the survivor’s will to live becomes firmly fixed. Fear of dying falls away, and a new strength fills them with the power to go on. “During the final two days of my entrapment,” Ralston recalled, “I felt an increasing reserve of energy, even though I had run out of food and water.” Elder said, “I felt rested and filled with a peculiar energy.” And: “It was as if I had been granted an unlimited supply of energy.”

10. Surrender: Yes you might die. In fact, you will diem– we all do. But perhaps it doesn’t have to be today. Don’t let it worry you. Forget about rescue. Everything you need is inside you already. Dougal Robertson, a sailor who was cast away at sea for thirty-eight days after his boat sank, advised thinking of survival this way: “Rescue will come as a welcome interruption of… the survival voyage.” One survival psychologist calls that “resignation without giving up. It is survival by surrender.” Simpson reported, “I would probably die out there amid those boulders. The thought didn’t alarm me… the horror of dying no longer affected me.” The Tao Te Ching explains how this surrender leads to survival:

“The rhinoceros has no place to jab its horn,
The tiger has no place to fasten its claws,
Weapons have no place to admit their blades.
Now, what is the reason for this?
Because on him there are no mortal spots.”

11. Do Whatever Is Necessary: Elder down-climbed vertical ice and rock faces with no experience and no equipment. In the black of night, Callahan dove into the flooded saloon of his sinking boat, at once risking and saving his life. Aron Ralston cut off his own arm to free himself. A cancer patient allows herself to be nearly killed by chemotherapy in order to live. Survivors have a reason to live and are willing to bet everything on themselves. They have what psychologists call meta-knowledge: They know their abilities and do not over–or underestimate them. They believe that anything is possible and act accordingly.

12. Never Give Up: When Apollo 13′s oxygen tank exploded, apparently dooming the crew, Commander Jim Lovell chose to keep on transmitting whatever data he could back to mission control, even as they burned up on re-entry. Simpson, Elder, Callahan, Kiley, Stockdale, Ginsberg– were all equally determined and knew this final truth: If you’re still alive, there is always one more thing that you can do. Survivors are not easily discouraged by setbacks. They accept that the environment is constantly changing and know that they must adapt. When they fall, they pick themselves up and start the entire process over again, breaking it down into manageable bits. Survivors always have a clear reason for going on. They keep their spirits up by developing an alternate world, created from rich memories, into which they can escape. They see opportunity in adversity.

In the aftermath, survivors learn from and are grateful for the experiences that they’ve had. As Elder told me once, “I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything. And sometimes I even miss it. I miss the clarity of knowing exactly what you have to do next.” Those who would survive the hazards of our world, whether at play or in business or at war, through illness or financial calamity, will do so through a journey of transformation. But that transcendent state doesn’t miraculously appear when it is needed. It wells up from a lifetime of experiences, attitudes, and practices form one’s personality, a core from which the necessary strength is drawn. A survival experpierience is an incomparable gift: It will tell you who you really are.”
Laurence Gonzales is the author of “Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why” (W.W. Norton & Co., New York) and contributing editor for “National Geographic Adventure” magazine. The winner of numerous awards, he has written for Harper’s, Atlantic Monthly, Conde Nast Traveler, Rolling Stone, among others. He has published a dozen books, including two award-winning collections of essays, three novels, and the book-length essay, “One Zero Charlie” published by Simon & Schuster. For more, go to www.deepsurvival.com

Dan, I Allegedly, "AI Could Wipe Out 100 million Jobs

Full screen recommended.
Dan, I Allegedly, 10/8/25
"AI Could Wipe Out 100 million Jobs
Are You Next to Lose Your Job?"
"Are we really ready for the future of work? AI is here, and it's reshaping everything—from finance to fast food. In today’s video, I’m breaking down how artificial intelligence is putting 100 million jobs at risk, the industries already feeling the impact, and what this means for you. Whether it's automating legal research, replacing administrative roles, or revolutionizing marketing strategies, the changes are happening fast. And yes, even blue-collar and white-collar jobs aren’t safe from this wave of automation. From self-checkouts in retail to robots in agriculture, AI is eliminating positions at an unprecedented rate. I also share stories about how companies are saving big money by using AI, and what that means for workers. Plus, we’ll talk about Bernie Sanders’ controversial idea to tax automation and what the future workforce might look like. Do you think your job is safe? Let me know in the comments."
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o
Full screen recommended.
Snyder Reports, 10/8/25
"Federal Workers Getting Paid For Not Working,
 Americans Are Furious"
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"I Miss My Cat"

"I Miss My Cat"
by Kit Knightly

"He was in a tree the first time I saw him. It wasn’t a big tree, but he wasn’t a big cat. Barely more than a kitten, really, stubby-tailed and squeaky. The branch was no more than three feet off the ground, but he was pretty sure he was stuck. In the end he figured it out. He was very brave.

The next time I saw him, I threw him a piece of ham. He was already my cat by then, I just didn’t know it yet. He was young enough and sleek enough and bright-eyed enough that I assumed he had an owner. A recent kitten just now being allowed out on his own and getting used to exploring his territory. I was wrong; he was a street-born cat looking for a home. And he’d found it.

By the third or fourth time he came around, I’d started putting milk or scraps in a saucer for him. One day, after placing his food bowl in the garden, I looked out the window and saw him sitting on the path staring at the back door, waiting for me. I went outside, he meowed loudly and led me back to his bowl. There was a large slug in it, eating his food. He sat, big eyes spilling concern, looking from me to the slug and back. He meowed again.

This was the first time he ever directly asked for my help. It might seem small but it lives large in my memory, because it shows the place I had taken up in his cat-mind. There were some problems – very, very few you understand – that cats can’t solve. That’s when you ask the giant. You can trust him to help.

Trust is the keyword with animals, I think. Maybe especially cats. When they trust you, you feel… honored. Duty-bound to respect the responsibility. To be clear, I didn’t consider myself to have a cat at this point. Owned or not, stray or not, he was just a neighbor I did favors for, not a pet. I didn’t want a pet. There were certain, definitive limitations designed to prevent his acquisition of pet status.

First iteration: He only ever ate in the garden, never in the house. But then it rained, and that was the end of rule one.

Second iteration: He could only eat in the back hall, and then only if it was raining. But then he followed me into the kitchen, and sat with patient green eyes the size of soccer balls glowing up at me while I put his food together. That was the end of rule two.

Third iteration: He was allowed in the house, but only in the kitchen…or, fine, only downstairs at absolute most. Then, one day, I walked into my bedroom and saw him asleep on my bed. A little black puddle curled up in the sun, not a care in the world. I tiptoed out of the room. I hadn’t even known he was in the house. I don’t know if it was the first time he’d slept there, but I suspect not. Anyway, that was the end of rule three.

Two days later, I found him asleep in an armchair in the living room. At this point, I still didn’t consider him to be my cat. I recognize, with hindsight, I was in denial.

We developed a routine. For a whole summer, I would get up early, go downstairs and open the back door. I could see the little black shape eagerly hopping down from his perch on the garden bench as soon as the keys jangled. A sinuous black blur through rippled glass. He would eat, then leave. The door would stay open all day, rain or shine, he would come and go as he wished. I would shut the door after dark, but only if he wasn’t around (because I didn’t want him to see me shut the door and take it as a rejection). He’d be waiting for me to open it the next morning, without fail.

Somehow, I still didn’t think he was my cat. It was the cat flap that sealed it, I think.October rolled around, and two days of shivering in the wind took leaving the back door open all day off the table. I had a cat flap installed, spent twenty minutes or so teaching him how to use it, and that was that. I had finally admitted what he had clearly known for some time and what any observing third party would have concluded in five minutes – he lived here now. This was his home.

After that his influence spread. Small blue mice appeared everywhere. Then jingly balls distributed themselves under all the furniture. He took ownership of many of my belongings. The table under the window quickly became “his table” in the parlance of the house. It was joined by “his blanket”, “his cushion” and “his chair”. The only items of furniture he seemed uninterested in possessing were those pieces bought specifically for his use, none of which he much cared for.

Not that he didn’t pull his weight, you understand. He was more than just a well-fed house guest, he paid his rent in regular contributions of very scared mice and very dead birds. I helped, his eyes would say. And he did. In lots of ways. He would often sit all day with any member of the family who fell ill. When I had surgery he sat on the couch with me for hours every day, donating energy to my healing.

If there were strangers or thunder or fireworks, he would take up a sentry position to guard the house. If it was a big threat he would enlist my help. We’d guard together. His ears twitching at every sound, my calm demeanour and open soduko belying how seriously I took the danger.

More seriously, he helped me work. Writing about the false reality of the modern media is not easy and it is not fun. You spend half your time feeling like a lunatic and the other feeling like a killjoy.
The “black pill” is a taint, not a choice. A syndrome whose symptoms worsen over time. A whispering at the back of the brain dropping grey filters over your eyes. You don’t want to be hopeless, but sometimes…

Sometimes being “awake” isn’t easy. I’ve been awake for a long time. I’m tired. My cat helped with that. You walk away from the computer, you sit in the sun and scratch his ears. He purrs and nuzzles. Restorative.

"Having a bunch of cats around is good. If you’re feeling bad, just look at the cats, you’ll feel better, because they know that everything is, just as it is.”
- Charles Bukowski, "On Cats"

It’s almost a cliché to say that animals ground you, but it’s true. They connect you to reality, not just physically but temporally. People spend a lot of time outside of now. Angry about what should be, sad about what could be, scared of what might be. Sit with a cat and that goes away; there’s only what is. He was my earth wire to the present.

Then, one day two months ago, he went out and didn’t come back. Yet, anyway. Because this isn’t an obituary. Underline that. I’m not grieving…I’m worrying. Cats come back. Browse the missing cat forums or Facebook groups and you’ll see plenty of cats just turning up after months or even years. That’s especially true of cats like mine. He’s a male, he’s not neutered. He could be off anywhere doing anything…or off anywhere doing one thing. When kitten season is over, he might just saunter in like nothing happened.

I looked over my shoulder at the cat flap as I wrote those words. I do that a lot. I’ve been out looking for him a lot, too. Walking fields and footpaths, shaking treats and clicking my tongue at bushes. I stopped worrying about looking eccentric about halfway through the second day.

I posted flyers with my phone number all over the neighbourhood and only got one crank call, a small miracle in itself. The neighbors are nice, many of them know him. Some used to feed him and gave him nicknames. They speak of him fondly and show me pictures they took of him playing in their gardens with their cats. There is a cat who lives near the church that looks a lot like mine. Two more by the river, another just across the road from them.

I get a lot of calls from people who saw them. It’s nice that they try to help. Everything is harder now. I worry. I feel resigned. I worry. I dream about him coming home and wake up in the middle of a gradual slide from relief into reality. Smile fading when I look over to the empty cushion where he used to sleep. His cushion. Waiting for him to come home, as long as it takes. I miss my cat."

This was originally posted on my SubStack, a new space for my non-OffG writing. I wanted to feature it here because maybe more people thinking about him will bring him home.

"How It Really Is"

 

Bill Bonner, "Golden Patterns"

"Golden Patterns"
by Bill Bonner

Youghal, Ireland - "Patterns. Patterns. Patterns. In addition to the boom-bubble-bust cycle of the stock market, there is also the Primary Trend...in which gold and stocks teeter-totter over long periods of time. Stocks hit an all-time peak in 1999, at more than 40 ounces of gold to the Dow. Thereafter it was down, down, down (even as nominal prices rose!) to less than 12 ounces today.

We don’t know, of course, if that trend will continue...but it marks a decline in the real value of US stock market assets...and coincides with what we believe is the decline of the US empire. Good? Bad? Reason, schmeason. It’s just what tends to happen. Things spring to life. They enjoy a season or two of splendiferous summer...and then the skies darken, and they die. We don’t control the pattern. And we can’t predict it.

But now, gold is roaring ahead. The Wall Street Journal: "Gold Prices Top $4,000 for First Time." Record run for futures comes at a time of heightened concern about the dollar. Our trigger for trading gold for stocks is when the Dow/Gold ratio falls to 5. How, when, why it might come to that, we don’t know. But we guessed that the ‘5’ mark might be hit by gold rising to $5,000...and the Dow falling to 25,000. Something like that. $5,000 an ounce for gold now seems clearly in view. Stocks, however, have resisted a major decline. We’ll see what happens.

The rise and fall of empires is also an irresistible pattern. A nation grows...and if it is large and successful enough, it seeks to dominate other nations...and the whole world. That is, it becomes an empire. Very grosso modo, we put the beginning of the US empire around the turn of one century - 1900 - and its peak at the turn of the next - in 2000 (coinciding with the decline of the Dow/Gold ratio).

Empires don’t last forever. They are natural things too. They grow. They expand. They become more and more costly and unwieldy. Typically, the zeitgeist shifts from dynamic growth to bureaucratic protectionism...from pushing out borders to building walls to secure the gains. Politics becomes more important. And brute force replaces consensus as a way of doing business.

There’s a corruption cycle too...roughly corresponding to the shift away from the ‘rule of law’ to the ‘rule of men.’ This appears to be a part of the life cycle of democracy...in which consensual democracy leads to Big Man government. Leading families tend to get richer. They use their wealth to attain government power and use it to make themselves even richer still.

A minor example, Mother Jones: "Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent announced a $20 billion package to rescue the Argentinian economy. The risky taxpayer-financed deal, which involves trading US dollars for Argentine pesos, has little upside for ordinary Americans. Argentina is not a significant US trading partner, and its economy, long in turmoil, has little impact on the United States.

However, Bessent’s announcement had massive economic benefits for one American: billionaire hedge fund manager Rob Citrone, who has placed large bets on the future of the Argentine economy. Citrone, the co-founder of Discovery Capital Management, is also a friend and former colleague of Bessent - a fact that has not been previously reported in US media outlets. Citrone, by his own account, helped make Bessent very wealthy."

That is also a part of the pattern. As the system shifts, the route to success shifts too...from ‘what you know’ to ‘who you know.’ Knowing Scott Bessent has turned out to be very profitable for Rob Citrone. He was ‘long’ Argentina.

Then, when Argentine President Javier Milei lost a bellwether election in Buenos Aires province, it caused such a big sell-off in Argentine assets that Citrone was able to add to his position for ‘almost nothing.’ Did he know the fix was in? Scarcely two weeks later came Bessent’s very unusual “unconditional” backing for the peso. And Citrone became a lot richer.

Bessent is no stranger to speculating on governments and their currencies. He made his fortune largely by betting against the pound in 1992 and then against the yen in 2013. It would not be the least bit surprising if he and his friend Citrone saw an opportunity in the Argentine peso.

Readers will notice that Bessent was not giving his own financial support to the pampas. He was pledging the money of US taxpayers. And thus do the many get ripped off by the few. Inflation lowers the value of the common man’s earnings and savings. And his tax money is increasingly frittered away or stolen in some Bessent-like scam. More to come..."

Adventures with Danno, "Shocking Prices at Sam's Club"

Full screen recommended.
Adventures with Danno, 10/8/25
"Shocking Prices at Sam's Club"
Comments here:

"The Trouble Is..."

 

The Poet: gk thomas, “Wretched of the Earth”

“Wretched of the Earth”

“Poor kids,
wretched of the earth,
why should we feed you?
Why shouldn't we empty our sea of
bullets into your swollen bellies or
poison you with toxic chemicals
or depleted uranium?
Why should we care,
we who are living well?

Where is it written in stone
that you deserve better?
Or that we are not animals
subject to the law of nature:
kill or be killed?

You suspect us of being cruel,
but we are kind.
Our god tells us so.
It is yours that lies.

So you cry at night,
shivering in the cold
or sell yourselves
for a slice of bread.
What is that to those of
us who are living well?”

- gk thomas

In remembrance of the 19,000 Palestinian children slaughtered in Gaza by the psychopathically degenerate inbred Israeli monsters. And here's the proof:
o
Full screen recommended.
TRT World, 10.7.25
"This Is Gaza, Unfiltered"
A land under Israeli siege. A people fighting to survive a genocide. 
Experience Gaza as it is - not as it’s told.This is Gaza, unfiltered.
Comments here:
o

"Gaza Tells Us Who We are""

"All Palestinian Prisoners To Be Executed And Shot In The Head"
"The Minister of National Security of Israel, Itamar Ben-Gvir, says he plans to introduce legislation in the Knesset which reads: "All Palestinian prisoners to be executed and shot in the head." – The Minister of National Security of Israel, Itamar Ben-Gvir
Watch this monster say it himself!


The truth is what it is, whether you like it or not, and here's the truth...
And now we know who and what we are, too...
to our eternal shame and disgrace.

Tuesday, October 7, 2025

"Finish Each Day..."

 

Gerald Celente, "Politicians Are Puppeteers, We The People Are Their Puppets, Follow Your Leader!"

Strong language alert!
Gerald Celente, 10/7/25
"Politicians Are Puppeteers, We The People Are 
Their Puppets, Follow Your Leader!"
"The Trends Journal is a weekly magazine analyzing global current events forming future trends. Our mission is to present Facts and Truth over fear and propaganda to help subscribers prepare for What’s Next in these increasingly turbulent times."
Comments here:

Oh, Gerald's on a roll tonight, lol

"3I/ATLAS Just Sent This Message - And It Confirms What No One Wanted to Hear"

Full screen recommended.
The Martian, 10/7/25
"3I/ATLAS Just Sent This Message - 
And It Confirms What No One Wanted to Hear"
"It all began, like so many other discoveries in astronomy, not with a flash of light or a loud announcement, but with a faint, silent signal. A movement in the blackness of space, so barely noticeable, so eerily calculated, that even the most advanced tracking systems almost missed it. At first, it was thought to be a comet. Then, an asteroid. But the closer we looked at 3I/ATLAS, the clearer it became: it defied all labels. Too symmetrical to be natural. Too quiet to be alive. Too controlled to simply drift.

We remembered 'Oumuamua - that strange, tumbling fragment of interstellar mystery. But 3I/ATLAS was different. Bigger. Slower. More conscious. And then the James Webb Space Telescope, our most powerful eye in space, received confirmation that sent scientists' blood running cold. First, a single leaked image. It depicted an object that defied not only nature but logic. Something artificial. Something that shouldn't be there.

But the real shock was yet to come. September 12, 2025. A second giant, Cygnus (C/2025 R2), emerged from the depths of space, its tail eclipsing the Moon. Both it and 3I/ATLAS were approaching the Sun from opposite directions, their trajectories perfectly synchronized to meet within the same ten-day window. The probability of such a "coincidence" is close to zero. This is not a coincidence. This is an operation.

At the same time, our old Voyager 2, drifting in the interstellar void, sent a message to Earth. Not telemetry. A structured, rhythmic, alien signal. And next to it, something was moving. Not drifting. Tracking. And as if to seal the deal, Webb peered into the very depths of the Universe. And revealed its true face - not chaotic, but geometrically flawless. Permeated with patterns and symmetry, like the work of a colossal mind.

Now all the fragments came together. An artificial, advanced object making contact. A double maneuver of two bodies, coordinated with the precision of a Swiss watch. An observer being observed. And the Universe itself, whose fundamental nature turned out to be Architecture, not Chaos.

3I/ATLAS is not just the next step after 'Oumuamua. It is a leap across the abyss. It is proof that we are dealing not with debris, but with technology. A technology that may have been observing us for much longer than we can imagine. They're here. They're coordinating their actions. And they've just entered the radio silence zone - beyond the solar corona. What will happen when they make contact? It's time to prepare for a response."
Comments here:
o
Full screen recommended.
The Calm Scientist, 10/7/25
"3I/ATLAS: ESA Released Photos...
 But There's A Problem"
"The European Space Agency has broken their silence on interstellar object 3I/ATLAS with the first official images from the October 3rd Mars flyby. But while ESA shows us fuzzy white dots they call "unremarkable," three other space agencies with superior cameras remain completely silent. This is the biggest science news story you're not hearing about."
Comments here:
o
Full screen recommended.
The Cosmic Unknown, 10/7/25
"Everything We Know About R2 SWAN, 
The New 3I/ATLAS"
"A new object has entered the scene: comet C/2025 R2 swan. First detected by the hydrogen-mapping camera aboard the soho spacecraft, it emerged suddenly from the Sun’s glare with a vivid green glow and unstable behavior. Astronomers are still trying to understand its origin… and its future. In this video, we explore everything we know about R2 swan, and how it compares to Ê»Oumuamua, Borisov, and the recently discovered 3I/ATLAS. Why are so many strange visitors appearing in such a short span of time? And why do they always seem to arrive… just outside our view? This isn’t just another comet. It may be part of something bigger."
Comments here:
o
Full screen recommended.
Uncovered X, 10/7/25
"Avi Loeb: "They Lied About Oumuamua", 
The Real First Visitor Is Buried Beneath the Pacific!"
"In 2014, a mysterious fireball exploded over the Pacific Ocean - dismissed by the U.S. military as just another meteor. But eleven years later, Harvard astrophysicist Avi Loeb uncovered fragments from the ocean floor that would change everything. The tiny metallic spheres he recovered contained beryllium, uranium, and titanium alloyed steel - materials stronger than any natural rock, more advanced than anything built on Earth. NASA now confirms the object, code-named IM1, came from outside our solar system - the first interstellar object ever to strike Earth. But the story doesn’t end there. When Loeb traced its path through space, it pointed toward the same region where another object - 3I/ATLAS - appeared in 2025. Two interstellar visitors. Same trajectory. Same impossible metals. Coincidence… or connection? This video uncovers what scientists found hidden beneath the Pacific, why NASA refuses to release full data, and how both IM1 and 3I/ATLAS may not be natural at all - but parts of a machine built by something beyond Earth."
Comments here:

Musical Interlude: 2002, "The Sound of Still Water"

Full screen recommended.
2002, "The Sound of Still Water"

"A Look to the Heavens"

"NGC 1333 is seen in visible light as a reflection nebula, dominated by bluish hues characteristic of starlight reflected by interstellar dust. A mere 1,000 light-years distant toward the heroic constellation Perseus, it lies at the edge of a large, star-forming molecular cloud. 
This telescopic close-up spans about two full moons on the sky or just over 15 light-years at the estimated distance of NGC 1333. It shows details of the dusty region along with telltale hints of contrasty red emission from Herbig-Haro objects, jets and shocked glowing gas emanating from recently formed stars. In fact, NGC 1333 contains hundreds of stars less than a million years old, most still hidden from optical telescopes by the pervasive stardust. The chaotic environment may be similar to one in which our own Sun formed over 4.5 billion years ago."

The Poet: Fernando Pessoa, “I Don’t Know If The Stars Rule The World”

“I Don’t Know If The Stars Rule The World”

“I don’t know if the stars rule the world,
Or if Tarot or playing cards
Can reveal anything.
I don’t know if the rolling of dice
Can lead to any conclusion.
But I also don’t know
If anything is attained
By living the way most people do.

Yes, I don’t know
If I should believe in this daily rising sun
Whose authenticity no one can guarantee me,
Or if it would be better (because better or more convenient)
To believe in some other sun,
One that shines even at night,
Some profound incandescence of things,
Surpassing my understanding.

For now...
(Let’s take it slow)
For now
I have an absolutely secure grip on the stair-rail,
I secure it with my hand –
This rail that doesn’t belong to me
And that I lean on as I ascend...
Yes... I ascend...
I ascend to this:
I don’t know if the stars rule the world.”

- Fernando Pessoa

"The Truth..."

"No one today likes truth: utility and self interest have long ago been substituted for truth. We live in a nightmare of falsehoods, and there are few who are sufficiently awake and aware to see things as they are. Our first duty is to clear away illusions and recover a sense of reality."
- Nikolai Alexandrovich Berdyaev

“If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you.”
- Oscar Wilde