Don’t Need Rescue from Everything

I’m surprised at how seriously people are taking the coronavirus. I’m even more surprised at how many believe government can save them from it, or that it’s even government’s job to do so.

This is the same sort of thinking that has led to the recent plague of “red flag” legislation.

If you believe you need politicians to save you from a virus or from someone’s gun, then you’ll keep handing control of your life over to anyone who promises to rescue you. Whether they actually can or not.

It’s not only diseases and guns. It seems almost everyone wants to be saved from something. Maybe they fear immigrants who don’t comply with unconstitutional anti-immigration legislation. Or maybe they want to be rescued from “inequality,” whatever they imagine it to be.

Others may want to be saved from weather, poverty, different political ideologies or other religions they don’t follow, or from rich people. Some beg to be rescued from their student loan debt or their own bad choices.

Drugs, other drivers, people who might appear to be smoking but aren’t, messy yards, backyard chickens, loud parties, tall grass, and more are all things someone out there wants government to save them from.

If this seems like a long list, you are right. Yet it barely scratches the surface. There appears to be no end to the number of things you could list that some people, somewhere at some time, have begged government to save them from.

Government encourages this pandemic of cowardice.

H. L. Mencken, a favorite writer of mine from early in the 20th Century, noticed this and called it out. He wrote: “The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.”

He’s right, and it’s working.

Were your hobgoblins listed above or are yours something else entirely?

It’s not that these things don’t exist, but making them into hobgoblins you fear irrationally is a path to slavery. You become so desperate to be saved you’ll accept those fanning the flames of fear as your self-proclaimed saviors.

Fear is the reaction to feeling you won’t be able to cope; of suspecting you aren’t enough. It’s a lie. You are enough.

You don’t need to be rescued from every little thing. I know you can do it without depending on government or its legislation. To conquer fear, get busy doing what needs to be done.

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The Pan[ic]demic is a Rahm-portunity

As usual, I will assume my readers were not caught with their pants down when this coronavirus cold pan[ic]demic erupted. You’re smarter than most people.

It isn’t my intention to add to the panic with my previous posts on the local effects (link and link), but just to observe that being prepared for the unknown is always smarter than being unprepared. It’s also my pat on the back to you for not being caught up in the panic.

Most of the people I see pushing the pan[ic]demic narrative are government-supremacists. They want government to save them in some way. They want government to do more and crack down on liberty a little harder to save us from this virus. Some of them want to punish you if you don’t go along with whatever “plan” comes out of this Rahm-portunity.

If you don’t panic you foil their scheme. If you were prepared all along so that this doesn’t even require a change to your routine you’ve probably spoiled their whole day. They need you to be afraid so you’ll clamor to be rescued.

I notice Scott Adams– famous government-supremacist– is getting angry over anyone who calls this a panic, saying it’s “preparedness”, not panic. Wrong-o.

Preparedness is what you do BEFORE the crisis happens. Months or years before you even know it’s a possibility. Panic is when you try to “prepare” as the shelves are being emptied by everyone else who failed to prepare. This is panic.

As long as you prepare, there’s no reason to panic. This may turn out to be a giant nothing. Or, it may become everything disastrous you are being told it will be. It will probably end up being somewhere in between the extremes, closer to “nothing” than to disaster. In any of those cases, being prepared is still going to make your life better. So why not do it? Make it a lifestyle or a hobby.

And, if I missed my guess and you weren’t ready for this, remember this experience as soon as shelves are restocked and don’t ever let yourself be caught short again. “Prepper” is not a dirty word. Preppers are the barrier between civilization and panic– in some cases, the last stand of civilization.

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Glad Someone Finally Said “Enough”

As much as I appreciate sheriffs who refuse to enforce the latest blatant violation of the Constitution — so-called “red flag” legislation — I wonder where their courage to not do the wrong thing has been hiding until now.

Unconstitutional gun legislation — which includes every “law” concerning guns — has been enforced by those in these same offices since 1934. This newest violation isn’t worse than the others. This is an arbitrary, theatrical line-in-the-sand.

If they have ever arrested someone for carrying a concealed firearm without a license, or insisted a gun shop needs permission from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives before selling guns, then they’ve broken the law, which applies to their job by enforcing legislation that was illegal to impose or enforce.

If they would help arrest someone for mailing a gun, after selling it through an advertisement on the internet, to someone in another state who lacks the “proper license,” they have violated the Constitution in the exact same way they now say they won’t do.

If they would arrest someone for possessing or selling a fully automatic firearm without the government paperwork, they’re willing to violate the Constitution. As they are if they’d enforce the rules against shotguns with barrels declared “too short” or against safety equipment like suppressors (incorrectly called “silencers”).

How can anyone take these scofflaws at their word?

Even the Supreme Court ironically recognized the right to ignore unconstitutional “laws” — which they declared to not be laws at all — in the same ruling in which they unconstitutionally decided they have the final say on what the Constitution means: the Marbury v. Madison ruling in 1803.

Neither the Supreme Court nor anyone else associated with the federal government has the right to decide what the Constitution means.

The same is true of state officials deciding what the state constitution allows them to do to the people. This would make no sense. You can’t let someone decide how the rules that limit their job’s power will be applied or what they mean. It’s like letting the accused murderer dictate how his trial will be carried out and what evidence to allow.

Speaking of trials, the federal government won’t allow the Second Amendment to be used as an argument in favor of the accused when there is a “gun offense” in question — yet it is the only relevant factor.

I’m glad someone stood up and said “Enough!”

I’d be more impressed if they’d be consistent and stop breaking the law entirely.

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Panic Not a Good Survival Strategy

Here comes Coronavirus; the threat of the month.

How scared are you? How scared should I be? I’m not scared or even worried.

When Coronavirus hit the news I did some research on it at some reputable, non-sensationalist medical websites and decided it wasn’t anything to hyperventilate over. In fact, they classified it not as influenza, but as a cold virus. A virus everyone will come down with at some point during our lives. This variety may be worse than the usual strains, but I’m not going to freak out.

I’ve been around long enough to see scare after scare come to nothing.

The Y2K thing fizzled, Ebola dropped from the news, and Hillary wasn’t elected president. Life on planet Earth goes on pretty much the way it has — but with more robots, rockets, and batteries.

There are still looming shadows on the horizon: human-caused climate disaster, failure of the power grid, a robot apocalypse, and more. These are all things people can panic over. Then they can make foolish decisions because of the panic. Foolish decisions such as saying “There ought to be a law.” Decisions that will have worse consequences for more people than the original threat — a threat that may be real or may be a figment of the imagination.

Someday a real pandemic or widespread disaster will happen … and be worse than we were warned it would be. Won’t I look silly, then? But so far, not allowing myself to be panicked has worked out well.

Do you really want to spend your life bouncing from one threat of disaster to the next, or are you willing to learn from the past?

Sure, there are occasional school shootings, impaired drivers, disease, and other human tragedies. That’s life. But the track record of global doom and gloom scenarios should inspire optimism if you’re paying attention.

It can be fun and exciting to prepare for the worst-case scenario. I do it, too — in ways more fun than frightening. Panic is not a good survival strategy, even if something bad is going to happen. A panicked person doesn’t think straight or behave rationally. They are more likely to make fatal mistakes.

Don’t let anyone cause you to panic … unless panicking is what you want to do.

In that case, I won’t try to stop you, but please don’t allow your panic to affect my life, liberty, or property, or that of my friends and family.

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Helping the “Homeless”

All the cries to “solve the homelessness problem”, especially by using political government, fall flat with me. It’s not that I’m heartless. I’ve even been homeless myself, so I should have empathy. But I also have experience with homeless people.

Years ago I met a homeless guy named Paul. He was nice enough, but it was clear he wasn’t “all there”. He had left his home in Kentucky and traveled in his car (I’m assuming it was his) to western Colorado. There he spent the nights in his car, which he kept parked in the back-country, and walked into town almost every day.

He told me tales of his affair with a ghost back in Kentucky, and told me he left home because his parents wanted to have him committed to a mental hospital. I could see their point.

I did what I could to help him. I taught him some survival skills I thought might help. I gave him a hatchet that had been mine since I was a teen and also gave him some candles and other things I thought he might benefit from. I gave him food a few times.

Paul liked to hang out in my store and visit. I did sometimes get tired of him– my enthusiasm for socializing can get used up pretty quick in any situation that’s not karaoke. He often smelled bad– but he did bathe at campgrounds from time to time.

The worst thing (for me) he did was hit on women who would come into my store– right in front of their husbands. I told him he had to stop this or he couldn’t come in my store anymore; he was driving away what few customers I had. This made him angry and he said he would come smash my front window that night. I had a few overnight armed vigils in the back of the store but he never acted on this threat. And soon enough, he acted like he forgot this had ever happened.

That summer, the sidewalk in front of the store was being torn out and replaced and I found an old horseshoe in the dirt under the concrete. I put it on display in my store. He became very interested in this horseshoe and wanted to take it to his car and let it “speak” to him overnight. So I let him.

He came back the next day with stories of what the horseshoe had “shown” him. He even wrote an account of some of this– minus the darkest parts about dismembered bodies in steel barrels– on a notepad I had given him. (See the scans at the bottom of the page.) He just told me those parts but didn’t include them in the written account for some reason.

But he became convinced the horseshoe was cursed and that was the reason my store wasn’t flourishing. Its presence was the problem.

He said I had to get rid of the cursed horseshoe before something horrible happened to me. To humor him I tossed it.

Oddly, things didn’t improve.

He told me one day that Fall that he was moving to Utah. He packed up his car, I contributed some gas money, and he took off. I thought that was the end of that.

A week or two later I saw a very scruffy-looking guy crossing the street and thought it looked like Paul. It was him and he was soon in my shop again. He was dirtier and smellier than ever before. It turned out he had driven almost to the Utah line, but then turned up the interstate and headed toward Denver, and then his car had stopped running. I don’t know if he was out of gas or if it broke down. He didn’t stick around to see, but started walking back “home”. That was over 130 miles, and maybe a lot more, depending on how far he’d gone on the interstate. He abandoned all his possessions there in his car on the side of the interstate, never to be seen again.

He said he’d gotten one ride– an insistent cop had picked him up on the west side of one of the very few towns along his route and dropped him off on the east side of town so he could continue his journey. He refused all other rides along the way, and slept in the grass beside the highway every night.

His feet were sore, and now he had no place to sleep at night. A preacher friend of mine happened to come in the store about this time and heard the story. He offered to have the town’s ministerial alliance pay for a hotel room. Paul refused, saying he wouldn’t accept anything from them because he didn’t know them. The preacher said, “but that’s what we do– help people who need help”. Paul was having none of it and my preacher friend finally went on his way.

So, instead of a nice hotel room, Paul started spending the nights in a porta-potty at the construction site of the new school. It was now late November, with the temperatures falling well below freezing, and often dipping below zero. I gave him a few candles for warmth.

I began to see less of him, usually only every few days or so.

Around this time there were reports of homes in that area being entered during the night– their toilets being used and food being eaten. Only one homeowner caught a glimpse of someone fitting Paul’s description walking away from their house. It was in the paper and I suspected it was him, but I never found out for sure.

Not long after that, Paul decided to go see if there were more opportunities for “the homeless” in Denver, and he somehow got a bus ticket and left, and I never saw him again.

One result of this experience is that it kind of made me skeptical about the homeless. Yes, he was only one example (although there have been others I’ve met who were very similar). But homelessness isn’t about a lack of homes. Paul had a home and he left. He had opportunities to be housed, he rejected the offers. He was a beggar and didn’t want anything to jeopardize his chosen lifestyle.

At least I don’t believe he was an addict; his mental issues were burdensome enough.

I know most (or all) of the beggars here locally are the same way. Their signs say they are stranded and need gas money, but they live in houses. Here. And have for years. Stranded? Where do they imagine they are going?

I was homeless for a time several years ago. But I didn’t sleep on the streets (I slept in the woods) and I didn’t get handouts or steal from anyone. I kept my job and worked to get myself out of that situation. But I also wasn’t addicted or mentally ill (some might disagree on that last point, though).

It doesn’t bother me if people choose to give to the homeless, but I know it’s not going to fix anything. Nor would building houses for them. They generally have issues beyond what those things can solve. Paul was a case in point.

Below, for posterity, are scans of Paul’s “horseshoe visions”.

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Stalking with Intent to Steal, or Worse

Say you were a UPS or FedEx driver and were being followed by a car. You stop and ask the occupant of the car what he’s doing, and he says he’s waiting for you to drop a package on a porch so he could take it. Would you have to wait until he took the package to act against this self-proclaimed future thief?

Would it be any different if you see a cop on the road while you are puttering around in your car?

The threat and intention are the same, even if you ignore the fact that the cop wouldn’t even exist (as a “job”) without theft already having occurred.

Not only that, but to wear the gang colors of the Blue Line Gang is to advertise a willingness to murder during the enforcement of legislation.

To see a police officer of any faction is to see a credible, lethal threat to the life, liberty, and property of everyone in the vicinity. How many are intentionally blind to this threat? How many actively deny there is a threat and support this vile gang?

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