Sunday, July 15, 2018
I love the truck camper mattress, 5 inches of foam comfort. It’s a Queen. Laura and I fit well together. Gilbert has a barrier to joining us. He can’t jump up so at best he harrumphs at the foot of the bed wanting up. I put a ramp in my home but here I just shshshsh him till he stops or lift him up on the bed so he can squirmy lick Laura.
Today when he fussed I just got out of bed , used the head, then dressed and took him for a walk. Quiet 8 am morning RV tenting activities. There was a young woman, shorts and t shirt, climbing out of her tent, balancing to stand. Another young woman stood by in a grey tube dress looking at her iPhone. A hairy man bare chested in shorts and boots carrying his shirt, fresh from the group shower, said ‘hi’ as he passed. Gilbert pooped. I pick it up in a blue doggie bag. The green mountains and wide green blue stream full of whirlpools rushing by was a lovely view.
Now I’m waiting for coffee to boil. I’ve ground the Kona nuts. Pacific canned milk. Squeeze container of golden honey. God that tastes good.
A crow outside is talking crow. St. Francis knew the language of birds. Dr. Philip Ney speaks to the birds. I can only guess what they’re saying.It’s an educated guess, not linguistically sound, but I expect the guy outside is calling to his friends, “Caught any fish? Found any good garbage.?”
I love my little home. I love this ipad and keyboard. I love blogging. Journaling. I’ve done it all my life. Since I was a child, my first diary as a 6 year old.
Only a day in the country by a stream and the negatives are gone. I wake here and now. The zen master says you are you and that enlightenment is to ‘shit when you are shitting’. Here and now. I love the shape of the green cedar leaves outside my window. There’s a breeze coming through the screened door.
Aliens in space craft are circling somewhere above planning anal probes. Unsuspecting experimental humans are going about their business.
I love Diana Davison’s Utube series, how she starts, ‘it’s another 2 minutes and I haven’t been raped yet.’ Mocking the falsifying of statistics by the gender studies folk. This is the decade of media deceit and mis and dis information.
Behind me furthest from the river is a camp of a dozen different coloured tents, young people, I think Filipino, families, some organization, likely church based. The church does so much and so little is credited them. Growing up I went camping with church groups and with the Boy Scouts. But the Boy Scouts met in the basement of the church. Men and women of the church volunteering to supervise a gaggle of children or teens . Every year we’d be camping with family but also there would be a camping weekend with the church and also with the scouts. Campfires, marshmallows, hikes, swimming, canoeing, group meals, sharing tents, flashlights at night, so much laughter and giggling.
Church attendance is down and instead the kids have game boys. Isolation and alienation abounds. So little belonging. I’m thankful for the memories of those times.
Laura and I are planning this year on going to the Salt Spring Island Rally 2018. We’ve gone about a dozen times over the years, sometimes motorcycle camping in tents, sometimes sailing over and staying on the sailboat, other times renting bed and breakfasts. Camping out in the field has been best. Looking forward to bringing this Maverick camper, hoping Brian is there. So often he’s come in his big and beautiful camper. Maybe meet up with Murray who rides his Harley there. Great meetings. Evening dance. It’s spiritual, not a ‘church’ but the folks are all volunteering to make it work each year. I love the Kiwanis breakfast.
Not everyone is looking at their game boy. Yesterday I rode the electric bike through Princeton and saw people before a stage listening to folk music. Camp outs and music festivals are the new variation on the old gospel revival weekends. Somewhere those continue on too. The tribe coming together. Opportunities for romance and sharing.
Our neighbours, grandparents have the children for the summer and are RV’ing around the province. The kids stay in a tent beside the RV. More community. Good humor. Happy times. My face is red from all the sun yesterday.
I saw a woman sitting in her car this morning, beside her tent. She’d been barbecuing last night when Gilbert and I walked by. I remember getting up in the morning and sitting in the car with a coffee rather than sitting outside. Tenting days. I’ve done all the variations around us and have arrived near the apex camper ‘predator’ position.
I’ve slept on the ground in just a bed roll, under the stars in the Sierras, climbing with a back pack. That was so beautiful, the endless Milky Way swath of sky and stars. I did worry all night snakes would crawl into the sleeping bag for warmth. I’ve been in Quincy and Igoos, making them myself in the arctic. Loving the fires in the morning, cherishing the coffee drunk with gloves and parka, made the old way with percolator kettle. I’m still motorcycle camping with a pup tent beside the road. Then I like just throwing the tent and sleeping bag into a pack so I can ride on down to a diner for a coffee and hearty breakfast.
With Dad and mom we camped in early days with a brown canvas tent with a wood Center pole and four metal poles for the ceiling. We graduated to a 6 man tent with a screened in front where Mom had a picnic table and we could eat meals without being bothered by flies or mosquitoes. Then we moved up to the tent that erected from the trailer. After we left home Mom and Dad moved onto the motorhomes.
We had the trailer and we left it at Boston Bar. Laura would hang out in it while I’d take the quad and roamed the back woods all day with a rifle, not getting anything but so enjoying the riding about and target practicing. Moose hunting the guys enjoyed that trailer too, slept 4, great for communal meals. I loved setting up the sump pump connected to the generator, the hose running between the lake and the trailer to refill the water tank with ease. I had a solar panel along with the generator to keep the batteries up. I even had a satellite phone which made me feel like the explorers in the Creighton Congo book. No electric fence to keep critters out but lots of guns.
Here I’ve got my own refrigerator, toilet, shower, stove and running water and had the air conditioning on last night. In the RV park we connect up to water and electricity. Last time out I had the heater on. There’s a tv and DVD but I didn’t use those this trip. Too busy riding about on the electric bike. It’s all so compact and dense with useful consideration of space. NASA intense. Microwave. Slide. Home a way from home. Elegant, blond wood, I really feel like I’ve arrived but know that it’s been years of acquiring skills and experiences. Steep learning curves. It’s one thing to have these things but a whole other matter of maintenance and trouble shooting. I finally figured out the fridge wasn’t working yesterday because the main power had been tripped which I only figured out because the lights were dim suggesting they were running on batteries and not shore power. I learned from Ron yersterday where the ignition was on this model of refrigerator. Years of sailing and living on a sail boat taught me a lot of these systems. At least the truck with it’s engine is a whole other generator.
In time I’ll take it for granted and it will just be a base camp for activities. Those today are resting eating and walking the dog. In the fall I’m looking forward to bow hunting. And now we’ll be enjoying Salt Spring Island in luxury.
When I think of Social Justice Warriors and man hating feminists I don’t think they’ve camped. Here I see a whole evolution of living that it’s so easy to take for granted in the city because there you can forget about all the engineering and trades that go into making and maintaining the apartments that the vast majority of angry entitled people live in here. Camping is humbling. I’m so grateful for all those who’ve gone before to create this little camper trailer that fits on the back of a truck and lets me go anywhere. I’m so thankful for all the lessons of my parents. I’m loving seeing Kevin and Anna with the god kids on Facebook, not rich by any means, a regular family, just like we were growing up, but Dad and Mom got it together to take us out into the woods camping and fishing like they’re doing. I joke often saying I go camping just to appreciate how much I have in the city. Mostly there I have people who specialize in these systems and can fix things if they break down. Out here I’m mostly on my own though not uncommonly the men band together to come up with a jury rig of some kind. I used duct tape to fix a breech in our anti mosquitos screen.
Derek and Naomi with their new baby Faith will definitely be out camping when she’s older. So many of those I love, love to do just this. Having camping in common bonds me with so many of my friends. Love of the Canadian outdoors is central. Cities are increasingly interchangeable but this great river out here with the crows landing in the cedar tree, that’s special. I’m blessed to be alive and enjoying this. I’ll like having a shower later. There was a time I’d have to dive in the river with a bar of soap if I wanted to be clean.
Saturday, July 14, 2018
I’m not going to make it to hear Andrew Scheer at Mt Lehman. I’d wanted too but it’s not that often I get to lie in the sun by a river with a beautiful woman and a dog.
After waking and having a couple of cups of Kona coffee, and prayer and meditation, I actually got on my electric bike and road into town. It’s 32 degrees. I’ve been drinking Perrier and ginger ale and still feeling dehydrated. Walking Gilbert whose wearing a fur coat.
In town I picked up a book for Laura at the bookstore and some mosquito netting to fix a tear on the RV screen. I even got the stove top toast maker. Not wanting to cook I brought back burgers for us all from DQ. Real tough life out here in the wilderness having to bike into town for supplies. Right now I’ve got the air conditioning on having come inside as I lobstered on the lawn chair. Reading a novel. Gilbert spoke with the little dog next door. It’s fairly laid back. Got my email from Adell and she’s off to London to meet up with Alan for a few days.
I’m loving the Canadian outdoors. The evergreens are beautiful. The fast flowing broad Frazer river is a wonder. Ravens land above in the trees and talk a bit.
On FB lots of friends are doing the same, some on beaches, some in campsites.
It’s not too original. But something so perfect doesn’t have to be original. Each in our own way are enjoying the relaxing summer heat. In town I passed a stage surrounded by hundreds on the grass enjoying a concert. Another day I’d enjoy that. Now I’m just glad to be at the camper.
The guys call the camper, “Laura’s Tent”. I can’t argue I really do appreciate the security and luxury of the camper. It’s still a steep learning curve. Together for the first time we tried to back it into the slot. The battery had run down because I’d obviously left something on. That meant the electric struts had to be manually cranked up. This took time and significant muscle power.
“I said I needed exercise, so here’s God’s gift.” I told Laura who stood by holding onto Gilbert. She can’t even reach the switch let alone man the handcrank.
Once I had it up, with a wind blowing, I was sure the camper was going to nose dive into the back of the truck. It didn’t.
With the help of the black line Mac had told me his Dad had used, and I’d painted on a couple of weeks before I actually had it almost aligned first time but we hadn’t accounted for the cable which needed to be under the camper to reach. This resulted in a half dozen more tries and one bang that had both Laura and I convinced that was it, both Camper and truck were toast.
Ron, who John the kind owner of Chilliwack RV had called in to help with my refrigerator problem, was still in the park working on another RV. I asked him if he’d mind helping.
“Sure, no problem”.
“Line her up. Crank this way. All the way over this way, Now hard left, a bit right. A couple of inches backwards. No, too far, an inch forward. There that’s good.” The camper was perfectly seated in the back of the truck. We’d bumped the camper lightly and whereas Laura and I had died with the bump, Ron was nonplussed. The camper’s obviously were built tougher than we imagined not that I plan to test their tolerance.
I then remember the chains for tie down. Wow! It would have been easy to forget those. With the bike and the generator loaded, we were off. We’d left Burnaby at 230 pm , a slow traffic drive and an hour in the lot, we were on our way east at 6 pm. Not bad. It felt good. Road trip.
Ron had also taught me how to light the propane on the refrigerator though it still didn’t work because it didn’t ‘whoosh’ to power and because the battery had died and the slide was in covering the battery box, he’d not been able to test it. With the truck idling while I was cranking the struts I’d been able to get enough power to move the slide in and out to get the bike in.
We were on the road, the same rolling motion of the boat, but barrelling down the highway. I’d been hankering after more wilderness camping but with the battery needing charging and Laura wanting luxury we reverted to our ‘original’ plan to go to Hope where we’d looked at a lovely river site, Telte Yet Campsite,right beside the big Frazer river. We’d have town water, electricity and charge the battery to full and even have a chance to dump the waste at the end of the weekend. Luxury.
The people were really pleasant and helpful There was 30 amp service sites available. People tent there too. Right beside the town so I didn’t worry about not having everything. Laura guided me out back,tentatively.
“I was terrified when you were backing under the camper.I thought the whole thing was going to fall over and crush Gilbert and me.”
Now I just needed binoculars to see her in the mirror. But it really wasn’t a challenge. When we’d back up the first RV in Boston Bar when I couldn’t find a ‘drive through’ ,now that had been a trial. This was just backing up a truck. Two tries and I was positioned in the site by the picnic table and hand’t driven over the pup tent in the site beside us.
Either side were retirement age folk or people who’d lived really hard and looked retirement age but were still in their youth. The man had three women with him. One was elegant and friendly asking us where we came from. They actually turned out to be from White Rock and like us just enjoying a different view and less city.
We’d brought more ‘stuff’ to stow and had the carpet and chairs out, water and electricity and Gilbert watered and fed in about a half hour.
Leaving Laura and Gilbert I rode my Torino electric rad bicycle with a Harley Davidson chain lock to Fields. I have the Harley Davidson state of the art lock because more people would try to steal this bicycle than they would my Harley. At Fields I bought a $24 camo back pack. Then at the country store I proceeded to buy more supplies than I could load in the pack sack and on the bike. I’m
surprised at my capacity for overestimating the load but still somehow managing to carry it. This is always a conversation matter when I take the motorcycle to Costco and return with a truck load of stuff ,when I just planned to get a chicken,
surprised at my capacity for overestimating the load but still somehow managing to carry it. This is always a conversation matter when I take the motorcycle to Costco and return with a truck load of stuff ,when I just planned to get a chicken,
I had the Little Caesars for Gilbert, a bone, cold ginger ale for us, chips, Hagen daz Vanilla ice cream, the specially made ice cream for roughing it in the wild, chocolate bars, and perrier. I normally pedal on the bike to look athletic but with the load on I just road back on the electric bike getting waves from the Harley riders passing through town. I manage 30 km.
Laura and Gilbert were settled in when I returned, having had more exercise.
After I remembered where I stowed the barbecue I had it going and Laura gave me the beef whiners from Costco I’d brought. She had wiener buns from Cob’s and gourmet mustard. The fellow next door was barbecuing steaks and commented, “You’re the chef of your outfit too, I see.” There’s as a certain whimsical cynical turn of phrase as we’d both obviously done the heavy lifting bits while the ladies all looked lovely. Laura was sporting a new purple and white sun dress and the bracelet her friend Melody had brought from the north.
Soon enough we were sitting in the camper with hot dogs and chips looking out the window at the passing river.
“I love the quiet. In the city in the summer, there’s just so much noise, shouting, music, cars, banging...sometimes I like it a bit but mostly I just long to be out here in the quiet. “ she said, her apartment in Vancouver’s Westend epicentre.
I have this theory of consciousness with cities being dense nodes and the further out the more our consciousness can loosely expand. I love the lightness of being feeling sailing solo and sometimes in the wilderness I’m almost there. It’s so relaxaing.
I didn’t sleep that well, it was hot, I could have put on the air conditioner but liked the breeze. Still I woke a few times missing my CPAP. I wondered too if it was the a bit of the notorious ‘smog’ air that sometimes settles in Hope. Still I was restless for a couple of hours, my mind not settling, worrying about patients, trying to push away the frustrations of work, falling back to sleep, only to wake at 6 am to Gilbert harrumphing at the bottom of the bed. He can’t get up on his own. I let him up and he did the squirmy licky thing. Thanks to Laura being there I only got half the attention.
A little while later I got up and walked him about the camp. It was 630 am. Only one other fellow was awake. Peaceful. Even the town wasn’t awake. Gilbert loved the walk and blessed the ground with 4 big offerings which I duly picked up and placed in the proper cans. It really disappoints him that I don’t appreciate the effort he places in the spot he chooses and the cultural significance this all has for his canine species.
Back in the camper I lifted him up to get his morning massage from Laura while I promptly fell back to sleep.
I woke again at 930 am and see my neighbours leisurely coming out of their trailers to sit at picnic tables or or lawn chairs cups in hand.
I’ve got a cup of Kona coffee. I loved that islands coffee when I’d anchored my sailboat there. I ground the beans. That’s probably not something I should mention in a story about roughing it. I Think I’ll grind another cup,though.. Laura has got up. She has a cup of the Nestle’s instant she prefers. It’s a touch demanding schedule I can envision today. Reading and lawn chairs. The sun is wonderful with the breeze off the river.
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Thank you God for this Tuesday. I love waking up with the Creed playing on my iPad alarm clock. I love having the little dog lick my face. I love having the car rub against me. I love the heat. I love the bright view. I’m so thankful for coffee. I love the stove top coffee maker. I love meditating in the morning and doing a little exercise knowing that I’ll make coffee after that. I love peanut butter.
I loved that the Thai Navy Seal rescued the team and that this was a ‘global story’. It’s nice to be a member of the human race when there’s a feelgood rescue happening. I was thankful to that the US Military took the Afghanistan ISIS stronghold. I imagine if I was a Roman I’d be saying I was glad to hear the Israel stronghold fell to the legion. If I was a Brit in Victorian times I’d be glad to hear that the Khartoum had fallen. It’s always relative. The home team changes but the winning sends a message of stability and order.
I’m not glad that Canada gives money way to unworthy causes and nefarious nations and unscrupulous corrupt international funds unvetted and known for corruption. Billions of dollars of Canadian sweat and tax payer dollars frittered away by the stoner teen aged Justin Trudeau whose polices continue to ruin Canadian economy and embarrass us the world over with his childish views of science and world affairs and generally silly corrupt Marxist nonsense. I’m glad the woman came forward and reported his hypocrisy. I don’t like any of this sex in politics that are already dirty but given all of Trudeau’s virtue signalling it’s good to see him snagged on his own petard.
I wish I could resist falling for the ‘media narratives’. All over the world a few journalists review the daily Reuter and say lets talk about Penguins today and everyone talks about Penguins. Or Caves or Syria or Migrants or something. Its’ so reductionist and comic book. I hear people talking about the ‘news’ and they’re spouting ‘sound bites’ no different than I do. It’s a dystopia. We all have this superficial knowledge. It connects us like workers songs of the 30’s gave the proletariat a sense of belonging to something bigger all the while their local boss was raping their daughters and stealing the money from the government coffers.
I am thankful that I’m not always nihilistic and maintain hope despite the draw to despair. All day long I talk to people who can’t bring themselves to get out of bed most days. They come to see me to get a form filled out or to get medication that stops the thoughts of killing themselves and they don’t seem to have a reason to go on. It was so sad to hear the teacher on You Tube talking about the Democrat school experience, everyone passed, no longer any reason to ‘achieve’.
We really need to go to Mars, just for the heck of it. To give the world a sense of progress.I can see a cave man in China saying , ‘let’s go to Canada’ and getting his friends to walk across the Bering Bridge to avoid self destruction with Hollywood cinema in his own prehistoric land.
I love cranes. The birds are fine but the ones above buildings are such a testament to people believing. Men are building sky scrapers still. I like Hollywood movies and the number of names at the end of a production. I wish the tv was more ‘intelligent’ but there I am watching Big Bang and NCIS. I like that the good guys get their man and that the geeks have friends. We’re an odd bunch. I like comparing the Big Bang to Friends and before that to the Family shows of the 50’s. I like when I get together with friends and we talk over coffee. Camaraderie. I like my weekly men’s meeting. I like talking with other dog walkers
When the media is fear mongering claiming the world is dying, “give me money” , the ‘skies falling’ , ‘give me money’. I like to remember my friends who have had babies and are in the crèche raising little ones. Someone is going to have the answer. Jesus did and we killed him so perhaps the next guy who is born Son of God will do better. I love the song ‘were you there when they crucified my lord’. Of course i was sticking the spear in his side and condemning him and putting crowns of thorns on his head and giving him vinegar to drink, despite my wishing I was the guy who helped him carry the cross.
I’ve getting out of my home today. My dog helps me every day. He needs to poop and pee and that gets me moving along. A shower helps. I even think shaving is part of the catapulting process to get out of the door. I hear all day about people who can’t go to work and want to go to work and I tell them go for coffee each day at 930 out of your home. IF you can do that the rest is down hill. I’m stymied more and more by the commute. I have to get my head around the commute. The mad drivers and the start and stop and the construction. It’s a barrier to work. Once I get through that I need a nap before starting my day. An hour of the second hardest part of work. Then it’s settling in to the actual work which is often a reall pleasure . I like helping people and being there for people, serving, and that part is so much more enjoyable than the increasing legal and administrative usurping of the doctors time to do these really awful distractions that only serve this other process, a parallel blood sucking parasitic process added to the healing moment. I’m feeling like I ‘m at the symphony and a whole group of cigarette and booze hawkers are screaming out their wares in the middle of the performance. Healing is so irrelevant to administration today. The doctor and the patient are just an extension of the swaggering egos of the administrators completely consumered with their own self revelry.
Meanwhile I’m saddened by the daily struggle. I hardly have any time left to consider how to heal this person, how to get them off drugs, what can I do for their depression. The administration has me ticking boxes and making charts and doing things that given their meaningless parasitic existence meaning. I’m thankful at times I’m older.
I was saddened to hear how much I still owe for my truck. I’m trying to pay off a truck and RV and it’s disheartening but like all hills it’s surmountable. Everyone I know has a mortgage, student loan or some debt and the Prime Minister is spending half my income on his dope smoke and drinking parties in the capital and the ‘party’ goes on and on. I’m looking on as peasants always have. But I Really just want to be out in the woods .
I’m so thankful for bicycling on the trails a couple of weeks back. It was so soul restoring to mountain bike. I was so thankful to be casting my line and fishing on the river stream. I’m reading a weatern pocket novel and enjoying the stories of cattle and farm houses and remembering Grand dad and the ranch. The city is so much parking lot. I like to be out in nature. I work for the weekend. When did that occur. The government forcing me with ex wives back into the city. I miss the chickens. I loved the chickens. I was so thankful on the weekend being shown my friends herb garden and their indoor orange tree. There was a slower more important time. I’m thankful for the little fur babies. But I remember Dad growing his cherry tomatoes on the balcony in his 90’s and know I’m too inundated with government paper and their ‘make work’ surveys and the self important computer demands. I have to meditate more, walk in the woods more, still the fears, quiet my mind. Be thankful.
Please God Make me a Channel of your Peace. Lord thy will be done. Holy Spirit come. Let me be more loving and please Lord stop the administration attacking me and hounding me and hurting me for the lies and falsehoods that are their bread and butter. Let me focus on my part. Let me heal and yes I know, help me pay off my truck. Let me have the time to camp and fish and riding deer trails in the country. Take me out to sea again Lord. Help me to get through another day living under the constant condemnation of that petty grandiose beurocracy with his perfection and narrow mindedness. Thank you for allowing me to see the artwork of the transsexual and the collection of art of the old diabetic man. Help me to think artistically. Thank you for Anil’s paintings. Thank you for the buildings and the births. May I be creative and serve the living today. Thank you. Thank you for the colour.
Tuesday, July 3, 2018
Occasionally, for brief periods, I feel wrong for criticizing and even mocking our Canadian PM Justin Trudeau. His fiscal irresponsibility, his cronyism, his financial favouritism of the Global Warming Cult, his divide and conquer intersectional politics, his support for political correctness, his attempt to turn a wide group of often absurd minority positions into a weapon against the majority, his anti Canadian values, his support of criminal killers while demonizing law abiding gun owners, anti western, pro Quebec and pro European Union, communism and such all are all deeply offensive to me. The postmodern deceit and multiculturalism lies are all Trojan Horses for the true greed that hides poorly under the pretty hair, dope smoke and trust fund confidence.
I am no better than the Americans to the south who sound even worse as their ‘reason’ for ‘Hate Trump’ is merely “we hate Trump’. While I argue that I have sound reasons for fearing the progression of communist socialism under Trudeau the principle American argument is that Trump’s hair and behaviour are unappealing. Ad hominem, or the losing argument, against the man, character asssssination rather than positional discussion is central. There’s an emotional level which is distasteful. I am no better for I feel similarly for the insincerity of the two faced Ottawa camp.
Yet spiritually and intellectually I believe that it is wrong to be simply a critic who is problem focused rather than builder who is solution focussed. I’m a Conservative, not a very good one, a supposed Pink Tory where I once was called a Blue Liberal. I’m a centrist, or so the various discussions portray me as such while my country by global comparison is centre or left of centre. I’m a liberal in the US and a Conservative in Canada, and very much a radical in the Middle East.
Andrew Scheer is the leader of the Conservative Party and it’s easy for me, too much a critic myself, to focus on his faults, in my mind, youth and too much a political animal from youth. I preferred Mr. Harper for his economic back ground and Mr. Martin for his businessman success. I would have liked George Washington as President because he’d been a successful General. I’ve not been fond of hereditary leaders and was concerned about the dynasty of the Bush family and then the crazy idea that the wife of a president or husband for that matter should rule. There’s something to be said for the family business but it’s not appealed to me.
I like that Andrew Scheer, like Trump, is surrounded by powerful and brilliant women. The women in the Conservative Party are truly amazing. So much of politics is networks and it reflects so well on Mr. Scheer that he has been able to surround himself with people of character and strength. Personally I love his family. There’s a truly wholesome traditional quality to his home that speaks well of Canadian values and hard work rather than nannies and parties. I like the humility that comes with religion and spirituality. Men of God simply think that they are not God and in politics I believe this is an asset. I like that Mr. Scheer is pro capitalism supporting innovation and meritocracy while appreciating the need for socialistic government where this exists. In today’s economies there is a mixture always of government and private sector but the more socialistic the more centralist and controlled whereas with the capitalism there is decentralization and less control. I believe the latter is what drives economy and profits all. Governments are historically the vampire that sucks the blood out of all endeavours, so prone to cronyism and corruption. Limiting government , government the cancer in communism and fascism, is what allows for a healthy society. I believe very strongly that Andrew Scheer is not self aggrandizing and not seeking personal wealth and privilege.
I believe he has ideals for the growth of Canada and hopes for the benefit of all. I believe he sees Canada not just as a suburb of Quebec but as a great nation of provinces and territories spanning the continent from sea to sea. He wants the Maritimers and the Northerners, the east and the west to prosper. He believes that the best success for minorities is the prosperity of all rather than the favoritism of the left which rules by tokenism and turning one group against the other. I believe that Andrew Scheer wants all to succeed. I believe he supports the GLBT community but not as clownish adherent but as a central idea of his own conservative belief in the need for all to succeed if one is to succeed. I believe the GLBT community, sometimes called the Alphabet Soup Group, is rightfully anxious. I saw during the AIDS crisis how so many who claimed to be ‘loving’ were ‘uncaring’ and even saw the disease spread as a reflection of their own smug beliefs. I believe that Andrew Scheer is caring for all who have experienced persecution, not the “I’m offended’ kind of persecution, but the real thing, the tortures and victimization by criminals.
I believe Andrew Scheer favours immigration as Conservatives always have but that immigration must be ‘legal’ and orderly and ‘vetted’ so that we are not a country, like now, known as a place where criminals can come and live freely after doing carnage in other countries and beginning new criminal organizations here. I do not believe Andrew Sheer would cozy up to terrorists like Atwall. I believe that Andrew Scheer supports the concept of ‘queue’. The illegal financial migrants are bullying their way to the front of the lines and pushing aside those who have waited and respected the laws of Canada.
I believe Andrew Scheer supports law and order and knows as well that the Military and Police are necessary because not everyone wants to smoke dope and sing Kumbaya. I believe that Andrew Scheer will ensure protection of person and property for those who are CAnadian. This is what so many people want to come to Canada for because the countries they are fleeing, the communists especially, have taken all property for the state. Private property is a cornerstone of conservative, like work and reward are. Work is a cornerstone of conservatism.
I believe that Andrew Scheer supports the sciences and favours truth. I believe that Andrew Scheer favours justice and supports the just claims of the native population. I believe that rural Canadians and Western Canadians will benefit as much from a Conservative government as urban and eastern Canadians will. I believe that Andrew Scheer is more affected by ‘reality’ than the ‘idealist ideas’ of the left which sound good, appeal to the adolescent, but have the worst history of failure. I believe that Andrew Scheer is very much in favour of the environment but won’t get distracted by the dubiousness of carbon taxing and extreme fear mongering of all those who would gain central control by crying over and over that the sky is falling. I believe that Andrew Scheer is reasonable and has a track record for being down to earth while having high ideals. He is human and not a cut out card figure image. He is real and not a mere puppet symbol with an audio command device in his ear. He is transparent.
I especially like that JJ McCullough, a truly brilliant journalist, is a Conservative. I like that Rempel is a conservative and that when I look around I find that the people I most admire are working, family oriented, home owning, educated people who in the US would have been called the ‘deplorables’ by the legal beurocratic theocracy elite of the swamp.
My western and eastern friendship network is conservative, truly concerned for the poor and the sick and the old. I am most impressed by the conservative approaches to the Fentanyl epidemic and don’t like the short term band aids and the profits being made for a few to the detriment of the many.
I believe the Conservatives lead by Andrew Sheer will have more original and long lasting ideas for addressing this epidemic and future crisis the country will face. I believe that the Conservatives despite their name are the party of innovation and the future not mired in Marxist ideology of centuries past but part of the new Enlightenment. I see Andrew Scheer as a product of the internet and cyber games and space age technology. He is intellectually ahead of the game in this regard enlightened by the science and futurism of his children and his involvement in their education and the hopes and dreams he has for their future.
I can see Andrew Scheer bringing the kind of success to Canada that we will not be mired in second hand Australian planes but will actually advance the space age technology that has us as part of the world Mars expedition and making advances like the Candu Reactors and Communication advances ,space station arm,and the development of Canadian cancer research.
All this is what thrives in a conservative economy where excellence is rewarded over mediocrity. I am very hopeful for a future with Andrew Scheer and the Conservatives and need to say this rather than point out the obvious and glaring defects in the alternative. Andrew Scheer is for freedom of speech and freedom of education and freedom of opportunity. He’s for transparency and truth. This all gives me hope.
My Christian aunt was admired for being known as one who praised but was silent regarding those she thought were sick or sad or mislead. She would have had much positive to say about Andrew Scheer and would never speak of Justin Trudeau as she was notably silent about his father and mother.
I want to thank you for this life. I know I complain and whine too much but really I do appreciate this world and this time here.
I loved my parents and the dogs and good food and houses. Mom was so loving. Dad was such a good man. My brother was an inspiration. I had good schools and good friends. It was great to camp on holidays .I loved baseball, hockey, shooting. It was a good childhood in a good neighbourhood with law and order and safety in the suburbs.
The dance world was a roar. I loved the television and shows and just the day to day work with fine friends. I loved my marriage, the travel, the intimacy. I loved overseas and cycling. I loved returning to Canada too. I loved white water canoeing.
The university was thrilling. I loved the study of arts, then biology and the chapel. University of Winnipeg and then University of Manitoba Medical School. It was all so exciting and intriguing. I loved the study. I loved the libraries. I loved my wife and the beauty and elegance of those years. Young love. But no children. Then the bad times and good times. I loved the country medicine and northern flyin work, igloos and polar bears. .
It was fun. Negative and positive. I loved the work. I loved the service. I loved the friendship. I loved the hunting, fishing and homesteading.
Sailing and skiing were fun but sailing was special. I loved the size of life. Everything was big. The forces of nature. It was all so larger, large as life. The great seas, the storms, the distances. I love expeditions. I love the adventure.
I love the meditation and prayer. I loved learning to be closer to you, loved learning the intricacies of the unconscious, the relationships, the overt and covert, communication and neurology and psychiatry. I loved the study of spirituality.
I loved the Marianas.
I loved recovery. I love the fasting and celebration , the rituals of worship, the study of the Christian Spirituality and 12 steps. I loved the men’s meetings and IDAA. I loved love making and being naked and together. I loved my dogs. I loved the cats. I loved reading and writing.
There is just so much to be thankful for.
Today I”m in this new to me truck camper.It’s raining and cold outside but the view of the river and the Douglas fir and pine and spruce and green shrubbery along the river shore is so appealing. I’m sitting in the little booth of this camper slide reminded of the booth in the SV GIRI, liking it so much. I slept an amazing sleep in the loft bed over the truck top on the new firm mattress with clean sheets and new duvet. Beside me a beautiful warm bodied woman. I loved that the heater came on to keep the chill off this morning. I loved that as it was raining I was able to use the indoor toilet and not walk to the outhouse. I loved the fresh running water and making coffee on the propane stove. I loved that the refrigerator running off the battery kept the cream and other food cold through the night. I’m still wondering how to get the propane working for the fridge but having a fridge is such a luxury. I love the lights. I’m just in joy here in the country and blessed to have this little cabin on the back of my truck.
I’ve been reading a western novel about a guy building a cabin in the woods and enjoying that as I’ve just outfitted and fixed up this little cabin on the back of my truck. Life is good. I’m thankful for all your blessings Lord. I really thank you too for work and the home I return to tomorrow. I don’t feel my age unless I look in the mirror and feel like it’s been a good run. It’s been exciting and interesting and loving.
Help me do thy will and guide me to where I can be of most service to you Lord. Thank you for this part in the whole. I know that when I work doing what is necessary I’m paid and with the pay have bought this camper which employed a whole bunch of people. Every aspect of this machine is almost space age in design and consideration. I love the science and the esthetics that have gone into play. Next to me on one side are tenterd and I’ve loved motorcycle camping with a tent or canoe camping with a tent and lying listening to the rain on canvas. So simple. Now on the other side is a major RV with the luxuries I associate with home. I have everything here on a small scale and it suits me so well. I love this camper and am so thankful for this weekend.
Thank you Lord.
Hieararchy is a form of network with the classic militaristic top down structure. The more totalitarian a structure, like the Communist socialist structure, the more controlled the network. The more libertarian a structure is the more diffuse and free without the top down authoritarianism. Fear and greed beget Authoritarian structures and especially the totalitarian.
In medicine there is an academic ‘voluntary’ relationship between among physicians. Prince among princes, is a term for this libertarian relationship of one to another. In this model a specialists ‘advises’ a generalist physician but does not dictate. The ‘front line’ worker is always respected as the person with greatest responsibility and accountability. In the militaristic authoritarian totalitarian structure the flow of command is top down.
In the militia, the voluntary nature of the membership was associated with soldiers voting with their ‘feet’, coming and going. Involuntary membership was associated with the ‘regular army’ with it’s power to hang for ‘desertion’ and a multitude of other offences.
In the medical model, the ‘regulatory’ bodies have usurped the ‘academic’ model or the ‘clinical’ model and increasingly it would appear that the ‘elite’ authority are not only broadly ruling on practice but actually ‘dictating’ the practice of medicine. The individual physician is increasingly expected to do what he or she is told to do based on euphemistic expressions like ‘best practice’ and ‘evidence based.’ Such terms are ‘text book’ and ‘academic’ and refer to ‘groups’ and ‘broad determinants ‘ of practice which previously had ‘guided’ the individual clinician. Today though these ‘guidelines’are maintained by the lowest common denominator of authority, legalistic, or militaristic, decision making.
Any variations from these ‘commands’ are then decided individually by the 19th century rationalism of the ‘game’ of law.
To identify ‘flaw’ of the law, one merely has to consider the failure of the law to be relevant in all matters ‘Sexual’. Historic ‘chivarly’ was an agreed relational model for predominantly white upper class participants in a western enlightenment theistic era, where ‘truth’ was considered ‘one’ and ‘authoritative’.
In post modernism ‘truth’ is ‘relative’ and no one of this ilk feels obligated to tell the ‘whole truth and nothing but the truth’. Lies are the norm of the courts and even quasi legal authorities with ‘politics’ and ‘favoritism’ overriding the ‘objective ‘truth’. All is now ‘subjective’.
Women sexually have not be ‘verbal’ in their traditional sexual advances whereas men have been. The man in traditional cultures has ‘initiated’ sex with ‘risk taking’ advances’. By contrast women have ‘invited’ sex with ‘overt’ invitation.
Today we have untold hundreds of thousands of men , perhaps millions, maybe trillions falsely accused of sexual Harrassment while women perform ‘slutwalks’ and conveniently ‘deny’ their participation when their sexual agenda is not supported.
Indeed women walk about in vagina hats or pussy hats when all of the legal structure of present society was based on the ‘modest’ and ‘truthful’ woman.
Multiculturalism further obscures the matter because there are indeed cultures where women are the aggressors but men cannot complain about being sexually assaulted as in the culture he is expected to physically beat unwanted females off him, rather than turn to the courts to assist him.
The rate limiting step in the ‘network’ is indeed the ‘hierarchy’ which persists in increasing restrictivenessa and a desire for increasing ‘top down’ structure.
Presently there is an increasingly pressure on scientists to ‘be popular’ and to ‘have good ratings’ the extreme of which is the Chinese Citizenship Scales celebrating acceptance of authority and promoting individuals without traits to deviate.
Deviance is ironically like the Chinese curse and blessing, may you live in interesting times, interesting. When Canadian women doctors supporting eugenics the precursor of Nazi Final Solution, looked at breeding out ‘deviant’ behaviour it was found that the most successful had themselves deviance or a deviant near relatives. Schizophrenia and genius run in families.
The concern then with communist socialist totalitarian structures and ‘generally’ ‘authoritarian political regulatory’’ ‘quasi legal’ agencies is that beurocracies such as the Chinese Citizenship beurocracy will favour ‘obedience’ over ‘exceptionoal’
Clearly the ‘fearful’ and ‘hateful’ want ‘control’ and ‘dominance’ and fear ‘outliers’ . Herod fearing the birth of Jesus, killed all infants under 2 year old to maintain his position of militaristic authority.
Given that the ‘reformer is the enemy of anyone who benefits from the status quo’ it’s critical to see that these ‘stagnant heirarchal networks’ can’ compete with the more ‘guerilla based’ ‘fluid networks especially in the sciences.
Steal a little and they put you in jail, steal a lot and they make you king. The belief of the thug revoluationaries like the communist peasants and the Zimbabwe revolutionaries was that they could take the position of authority with a gun or laws and dominate the ‘networks’ with the rigid controlling militaristic authoritarian regulatory hierarchies. This worked in the time of Ghengis khan but not today.
Networks are simply too complex for those with only ‘position authority’ to rule wisely. Thugs with guns can’t make quantum physicists out compete others even by holding their wives and children hostage. The cave men painted the walls after successful kills.