ARCTIC SEA-ICE –THE 2024 MAXIMUM–

(Note: This post was begun some weeks ago, but, due to interruptions, I’m only finishing it up tonight. Sorry if some of the graphs are dated.)

Well, we are past the yearly “sea-ice maximum”, so I suppose I should do a sea-ice post, but I’m rather uninspired. Rather than proving we are reaching the dreaded “tipping point”, any discussion about sea-ice has become a “moot point”. Further discussion is more or less pointless.

First, for many young Alarmists the idea of Global Warming is an indoctrination they’ve received from early in grade school. Both they and their teachers watched Al Gore’s “Inconvenient Truth” (2006) yet they were never exposed to the carefully thought-out decision by a British court which stated the movie was only one side of a political debate, and students shouldn’t be exposed to it without being informed Al Gore spoke eleven falsities. (2007).

https://www.newsbusters.org/blogs/nb/noel-sheppard/2007/10/09/court-identifies-eleven-inaccuracies-al-gores-inconvenient-truth

Such students and teachers don’t need to see any evidence to know Global Warming is “true”, because they were taught by teachers who didn’t need to see any evidence either, because it was in the book they taught from (or video they taught from.). For such people Global Warming is a pertinacious and deep rooted falsity, founded in faith in those who taught them. To question Global Warming questions the integrity of Miss Fruitisweet, a third grade teacher who was just about the only kind teacher they experienced in twelve years of academic monotony. She may have taught by the book, and the book may have held balderdash, but to question her integrity is like slaughtering a holy cow for burgers. Miss Fruitisweet was patient, kind and loving, and it wasn’t her fault that she too trusted an authority prone to balderdash. Miss Fruitisweet may have brainwashed innocent children, but she did so out of love, meaning well.

In any case, such brainwashed people tend to avoid actual discussion with pleas to authority: “The textbook says so” or “Dr. Pixiznose said so,” or “scientists say”, or “the science is settled,” or “the consensus agrees.” Actually discussing things becomes next to impossible with such people, because they don’t seem to know how to think; only how to believe.

Secondly, politics destroyed a lot of the best research being conducted, because politics demands science prove certain points and discredit others, whereas Truth doesn’t take sides. But the blustering bully of power politics imagined it could control Truth by funding scientists whose research agreed with “their side’s” agenda, and by de-funding those whose research dared disagree. It would not matter if “their side” was saying up was down, money talked, and funding made nonsense “true”.

Such funding is like bribing a judge. It turns the courtroom into a mockery of justice. The judge is not carefully weighing evidence, deeply concerned with righteousness. Instead he is unrighteous. Rather than the clear intellect of a clean conscious, and the purity of untarnished intuition focused on truth, bribes basically turn minds into whores, making a mockery of love, for money.

Besides Dr. Pixiznose’s tendency to be a whore, the media also have proved woefully susceptible to bribes, and became culpable for their sensationalist, blaring headlines of even the most absurd hypotheses that furthered the Global Warming hysteria, and their complete silence concerning the hard work of scientists who found reasons to have hope that the world wasn’t going to end by now. To deepen their disgrace, the media not only censored their own better judgement, but rabidly advocated the censorship of those with far better judgement than the media ever dared manifest.

Lastly, as politics descended from at least a semblance of righteousness into the current squalor of corruption, harmonious cooperation fell apart, especially in terms of arctic research. For example, the Russians were deeply interested in arctic research, considering the thousands of miles of coastline they own, facing the Arctic Sea. They had great resources they wished to exploit, but others felt such exploitation was a bad thing, for various reasons. However initially Russia was able to cooperate with other nations, as is apparent if you look back at my posts about the “Barneo” bases Russia set up every year, (right about now, In early April). Norway and the Ukraine worked hand in hand with Russia in these endeavors, which involved research, military exercises, and tourists who could afford to splurge big bucks, having a blast. Needless to say, Russia and Ukraine are no longer so cooperative, those lovely days are long gone, and “Barneo” is fading into a fond memory.

https://sunriseswansong.files.wordpress.com/2016/04/global_russian_antonovan_74_ice_takeoffnorthpole.jpg

Even back in 2016 the politics at the Pole were getting intense. If you have the time, here’s a post (I’m rather fond of) about how crazy things were getting even back then.

Now eight years have past, and things have gone steadily downhill. The only good I can see is that the corruption has become so grotesque, and the sham so absurd, that people are getting downright sick of it. Even scientists working in hostile environments, where any outright questioning of Global Warming might get you swiftly fired or, if you have tenure, get your funding cut off, are scientists who tend to avoid mentioning Global Warming at all in the body of their papers, and only add a flimsy genuflection in the conclusion. I sense a sort of wink-wink, nudge-nudge in some of these obligatory genuflections, as if, between the lines, is written, “We all know this is bullshit, but here goes.”

Why are people fed up? Well, you can only screech the sky is falling for so long before people start to notice the sky isn’t.

For example, because air temperatures, and SST (Sea surface temperatures), were well above normal the past year, I expected more sea-ice to melt than usual, but that didn’t happen. In the chart below 1996 is the green line, while 2024 is the blue line. While the 1996 maximum was towards the end of February the 2024 maximum was delayed to the end of March, and while the 1996 level was well above 2024 towards the end of February, by the end of March they are roughly the same. There is no apparent “shocking decline” in the “extent”, despite the passage of 28 long years.

This is also apparent in the DMI graph of the March “extent” (an average for the entire month). In a sense the “trend line” looks silly, for the trend since 1996 has been basically flat, (follow the central line, indicating 15 km2 of extent, and you’ll see the two years are nearly the same.)

The “trend line” included in such graphs is based on the sea-ice level of 1979, which much evidence indicates was the highest level in recent times. Some say it is “the start of the satellite record”, but the first IPCC reports show graphs using satellite data which indicate far lower “extent” levels only a few years earlier, and we have this early “Nimbus” satellite shot from September 1969 which shows a large area of open water towards 80 degrees north latitude, north of Bering Strait.

It is fairly clear that sea-ice has always fluctuated between high and low levels. If you bother study history you see it has been doing so for some time. Willem Barentsz sighted the entrance of Raudfjorden in June of 1596 in a small, sail-powered wooden ship, whereas it would have taken a steel, diesel-powered ice-breaker to have reached the same spot in June of 2023. If I was foolish I could use 1596 as my start day, and create a rising “trend-line” from 1596 to 2023 which could freak everyone out by suggesting sea-ice was growing, and we were all about to freeze. And, back in 1979, we experienced a cold period which caused some false prophets to freak everyone out with “The Ice Age Scare”.

The funny thing is that some now attempt to assert “The Ice Age Scare” never happened.

However I was alive at the time, and can vouch that it did happen. In case you doubt an old man’s memory, Tony Heller used the “way back machine” to compile a long, long collection of media sensationalism which shows that the “Ice Age Scare” was a lot more than, as the above article suggests, “nine paragraphs”.

1970s Global Cooling Scare

One interesting character in the Ice Age Scare was Steve Snider.

What was interesting about Steve was he switched so effortlessly from the Ice Age Scare to the Global Warming Scare. His primary interest seemed to be scaring the public. He seemed to think logic wasn’t enough, and the public was basically imbeciles, and needed to be bossed about by smart people, like himself. He moved on to become a notorious “gatekeeper” at Wikipedia, zealously removing any evidence that Global Warming was anything other than “settled science.” Then he unexpectedly did something I must do, and indeed all must do eventually. He died, at a relatively young age.

It must be odd to die when you think you have years ahead of you. You think you can continue to manipulate data, and that these manipulations of truth will eventually have some result other than the dishonesty you believe is justified. But you do not live to see that day, which you think will excuse all your dishonesty. Instead you are abruptly dead, and all you have to show is a lifetime of deceit. It must be especially hard if you are an Atheist. You die, and abruptly become aware Truth is calling you forward to be judged on what you have done. And what have you done? All you have done is make a good living denying Truth.

Personally I believe my departure from this creation will bring me face to face with Truth. Even back when I attempted Atheism, I believed the final nano-second I was existing would confront me with Truth. Was I honest, or was I a liar?

The problem with being a liar is that you lose touch with Truth. A discrepancy is created, as is displayed in the above graphs. At that point the liar can either confess their mistake, or double down on the lies, attempting to cover up prior lies with further lies. This only doubles the discrepancy, which eventually becomes glaring.

And this is the point we have reached with the arctic sea-ice “Death Spiral” hysteria. There is no “Death Spiral”. In fact, even during this very warm year, when there seemingly should be a decrease in sea-ice, the levels increase. What the heck is going on?

This is what a sane government would pay its scientists to figure out. Instead our insane government pays scientists to support a scare-story which justifies their declaring martial law, so they can have dictatorial powers. What they don’t understand is that, in setting aside real science, they are losing the power real science offers. They may be chuckling to themselves, thinking how a false disaster tricked the public into giving them control, but may at the same time be blind to a genuine disaster. They are sipping tea in a house with exotic rice-paper walls, floating on a houseboat midst water lilies, fed luxuries and fanned by a servile staff with English accents, oblivious to the fact they are just upstream from a thundering waterfall.

One danger we may be about to face is a repeat of the Dalton Minimum. That time of a “quiet sun” ended with a couple of volcanic convulsions that left ash in the ice core samples of both Greenland and Antarctica. One we can identify as Tambora in Indonesia, but the other is a mystery volcano. After all, this happened in 1810, and we hadn’t gotten our satellites up, quite yet.

All the ash and sulfur thrown into the atmosphere by these convulsions led to some bizarre weather, contributing to famines, which contributed to tremendous societal upheavals. (If you want specific details, go through my long-winded past posts.)

One thing they knew nothing about, during the Dalton Minimum, was what was occurring at the bottom of the sea. Now we are seeing a surge in the seismic activity along mid-ocean ridges, which suggests (to some) that besides the eruptions we can see, like the spectacular eruption of Tonga last summer, there are equally spectacular but totally hidden eruptions occurring over a mile down in the deep sea depths.

The temperature of the water down that deep is close to the freezing point of fresh water, and the sudden appearance of lava as hot as 2000 degrees is bound to change the status quo. How so? We have no idea.

We might have had some idea, if the great scientist Bill Gray had been funded. He wanted to study “thermohaline circulation”, however he was honest to Al Gore, and told Al he didn’t think CO2 had all that great an effect on climate, and Al Gore, to his eternal shame, severely cut the funding to an honest and brilliant man. So we know little about “thermohaline circulation”, while we have spent trillions on stuff that basically is disconnected from rational thinking, such as solar power, windmills and electric cars.

However odd stuff is certainly happening to our seas. During the El Nino last winter, when waters to the northeast of Australia are ordinarily cooler than normal, during El Ninos, they abruptly became warmer than normal. Yes, there was seismic activity, and yes, this is just west of the enormous Tonga eruption. And no, this has never been seen before. Lastly, it utterly screwed up many long range forecasts, (such as Joe Bastardi’s), because it introduced a never-seen-before variable.

Dr. Roy Spencer and Dr. John Christie at the University of Alabama noted a spike in temperatures.

I greatly respect these two men, but I will state their focus is on the atmosphere. They haven’t studied seafloor volcanoes much. They are interested in Tonga, but only because it vaporized so much water and sent the steam high into the atmosphere. Ordinarily they do not lower themselves from the heights to study the depths. They are less interested in eruptions two miles down, which may (or may not) have raised the temperatures of the sea-surface northeast of Australia. But I will state they showed an uncharacteristic interest in a study of whether or not there were “plumes” of warm water rising from the depths, which I think shows they knew something weird was going on.

I will also state that, when I peruse the comments following the post, “How Much Ocean Heating is Due To Deep-Sea Hydrothermal Vents?”, that appeared on Roy Spencer’s site, I am made painfully aware of my own ignorance. My value, if I have any, is primarily as an observer. Back when there were buoys with cameras bobbing about the Arctic Sea it was possible to observe many things which seemed to run contrary to what proponents of the “Death Spiral” theory promised us we’d see. However, once I leave observing and venture into theorizing I step off a shelf and am immediately over my head. Having confessed that, I will state I observed something weird happened last winter.

What was weird? The abrupt appearance of warm water northeast of Australia was weird. It is difficult to explain how weird it was, but I’ll try.

When we attempt to understand a phenomenon such as the El Nino we try to stick to the facts, and not stray from those facts. Even if you believe the Red Sea can be parted, you are not allowed to use belief in your data. Therefore all the El Nino data we had went into creating a clumsy understanding of El Ninos within a computer model, and one component of that understanding was that waters northeast of Australia would be cooler than normal. But last winter utterly broke the rules. Perhaps the Red Sea did not part, but to conventional thinking it was nearly as astounding.

Yet the press ignored the event. It seemed quite unlike them, considering they blame nearly-every-thing-you-can-think-of on Global Warming, but perhaps some recognized the event repudiated the narrative. How so? Global Warming is not a localized event. Background radiation is fair and equal and effects all areas in a smooth manner. This event was concentrated northeast of Australia.

The study which Roy Spencer focused on in the above post was a bit primitive and underfunded. Basically a boat dragged sensors, like a biplane dragging an “Eat At Joe’s” sign up and down a beach. They found no evidence of “plumes” in the small area they crisscrossed, which disappointed me, but which seemed to relieve Christie and Spencer. Perhaps they took it as an indication the oceans were not controlling the atmosphere, and they were not focused on the wrong thing. Or perhaps not. But the fact they actually did look outside their field shows they are real scientists.

My problem is I poke about too much, and have seen evidence of “plumes” in other studies. One fellow was painstakingly tracking the strata of various types of seawater, sliding north like cards in a deck, in the Gulf Stream, with the strata determined by salinity and temperature, and just as the current crossed the mid Atlantic ridge his study got totally screwed up. Something mixed the waters, and, in the diagrams his study produced, the disruptions looked very much like “plumes”, at least to me.

This tickled my fancy, because it seems to me that any disruption of warm currents that basically flow from Florida to the North Pole could result in less sea-ice melting. This makes sense of what is initially counterintuitive: How could lava that warms the SST (sea-surface-temperatures) and atmosphere cause less sea-ice to melt? In this manner: Sea-ice is not melted most from above, but from below. If lava creates a “plume”, and the “plume” interrupts the import of warm waters, it is only logical less melting would occur.

And what happens next? Well, this is what concerns me. The records of long ago, created by using various proxies, show some times of warming followed by abrupt crashes in temperatures. If you want to talk about weird, these crashes are most mysterious. Basically we know they occurred, but not why. Various unverified theories are out there, the most noticed one, (by the mainstream media), involving freshwater lakes abruptly draining into the Atlantic when glacial plugs dissolved and crumbled, but although this may explain a particular down-spike it does not explain others. So I might as well throw my own unverified theory out there.

Suppose a quiet-sun period such as the Dalton Minimum winds down to its end, and the sun gets noisy again. The lava which was so active when the sun was so quiet might cease to be so active, and the abrupt cessation of this warming effect would have obvious repercussions. Some would be more immediate than others. However one repercussion might be a short-term downward plunge in temperature.

Where the Parry expedition in 1819 found summer waters open, and only became frozen in for a winter, and easily escaped the actic the next summer, the Franklin expedition got frozen in so solidly every man on two ships perished, starting in 1845 but likely, because they were so well prepared, taking at least two agonizing years to kill the final sailor. How could the same place get so much colder?

This what we should be studying. Why? Because, what if it is our fate? What happened before can happen again. Won’t we look like complete idiots if, over the next thirty years, there is a dramatic downturn in temperatures, just as we prepare for Global Warming.

This is where Al Gore and his ilk look particularly stupid. Rather than preparing us for disaster, he has diverted trillions of dollars away from what we should have been studying. How different our level of understanding might now be, if only he had heeded Dr. Bill Gray.

And how much I miss Robert W. Felix, and his “Ice Age Now” website.

Stay tuned, (though my focus these days is not so much on sea-ice, but rather rather on how to get back to honesty, and away from wasting so much time and money on bribery and lies.)

TAXTIME TURTLE

Below is the total mess I make of my wife’s lovely dining room when it comes time to do the taxes.

There is order in this chaos. The four piles on the far side of the table and eight piles on the counter represent the twelve months of the year, and I meticulously collect every bill and receipt I can possibly use as a “business expense”, because the more my business expenses are, the less my “profit” is, and profit is what they are after.

In actual fact my profit is zero. “Child Care” is no way to get rich, and for most “child care professionals” it is a way to scrimp by. It is a hand-to-mouth existence, a labor of love, a Christian ministry, and there is something vile about oily accountants from The Swamp wanting to know every detail of how you get by. It’s none of their business. It’s mine. They are ignorant of what I know.

First, in The Swamp’s eyes it tends to look like something fishy is going on, if you work hard and have a charitable nature. Saint Paul said spiritual behavior, to the worldly, looked like “foolishness.” I’d take it a step further, and say that, to a communist, charitable behavior looks like the counterrevolutionary acts of the petite bourgeois, who need to be purged, for only the state is allowed to be a benefactor.

Second, The Swamp wants you to divide yourself from your work, and keep careful track of what you do for your self and what you do for your business. This is absurd, when you are so absorbed in your work that it is your life. But bureaucrats likely want mothers to say, when they breastfeed, how much is for the child and how much is for the mother. They divide what is whole, and it rots what is wholesome.

Bureaucrats can never understand the generosity of the poor. How is it poor people give more than rich people? (This is an established fact, statistically proven by careful research, and should put every rich person to shame.)

The fact of the matter is that such charity is how the poor “get by”.

I took economics in school, and passed my A-level exam in the British system of 1971, even though me and math do not get along. Because I am educated in this way, I am fascinated by the way the poor “get by”, and seek to find a way to make it look more sensible in terms economists understand.

Here is an example:

I thought I’d be faster than usual, and complete my taxes way ahead of the deadline, but no sooner had I made a mess of my wife’s dining room table, when my wife broke three bones in her ankle, which involved surgery. The mess on the table just sat there, barely touched, for weeks, for I had to care for my wife, and also do all her work. A man never appreciates his wife’s workload until he has to do it. He seldom thinks about things such as the fact there is always toilet paper in the bathroom, until there is none there. Then the belittling ceases.

For example, I kid my wife a lot about how fast I go in and out of a store, while she takes longer, however when I had to do all the shopping, it took me three times as long, and I often forgot important items yet came home with some unnecessary stuff. (I bought “scrapple”, made of pork byproducts and cornmeal, because I liked it, sixty plus years ago, drenched in maple syrup during boyhood breakfasts. I didn’t know it existed any more, and when I saw it I figured I needed pampering, with my wife down and out.)

I was hard pressed to find time to cook the scrapple, or anything else, but grimly determined to be a good husband and provide my wife with all the weird stuff she eats, (not scrapple), but then all sorts of other kind women, or their husbands, began arriving at my door, with all sorts of dinners. It was so kind. I did cook breakfasts before rushing to work (when I’m supposedly retired), but when I dragged my butt home I think I only cooked three dinners in three weeks. The hearts of others provided. And some of the dinners that appeared were better than anything I could concoct.

I would have been grateful even if every meal was macaroni and cheese, but that is not my point. My point is how do you show such kindness, when doing your taxes? Can the people who brought me dinner take a deduction for the food they bought?

Not usually, but they should be able to do so. Not that The Swamp even wants to know about such generosity, let alone reduce your taxes if such kindness rules your entire life.

The United States was founded upon ideas full of such kindness. That is why there were so few taxes at first. There was no such thing as an income tax, because the traditional family farm fed, sheltered and clothed many, but the “profit” was minuscule. The government raised most of its money with tariffs on imported goods, and the Custom House at each port was a marble structure, sometimes with pillars in the front of it, for they had the power of the IRS.

It must have been nice to be alive before the income tax existed. Now, when I take kids fishing, I must save a slip of paper that shows I spent $2.50 on worms.

HOPELESSNESS HOPES

EASTER 2024

SUPER TUESDAY’S SNAKES AND LADDERS

One board game I disliked as a child was called, “snakes and ladders”. I didn’t like it because skill played no part. One was at the mercy of the roll of the dice, as you progressed towards the finish line. If you landed on a “snake”, you fell backwards, and if you landed on a “ladder”, you leapt forward.

The only way to control your destiny in such a board game is to cheat. You must gain some sort of control over how the dice roll. This may be illegal, but you do stand a far better chance of winning, unless your opponent is better at cheating, (or else catches you cheating, in which case the game may dissolve into a brawl).

Cheating seems to be how the game of politics is played in “The Swamp”, (IE: Washington DC.) They feel they are “the elite” and are smarter than the “deplorables”, (IE: Fellow Citizens). They do not really believe all men are created equal, nor that they should love their neighbor. Rather they feel that they should control their neighbor, because they are smart and the rabble (IE: Fellow Citizens) are ignorant. However the rabble are becoming roused, and the elite are increasingly fearful they are losing control. A storm is over Washington this “Super Tuesday.”

It shows up especially well on radar:

The funny thing is that elite in Washington DC would laugh at the idea that the physical reality of the weather has anything to do with the social climate they create with their cheating, even as they try to sell the idea to the Public that the Public is guilty of causing Global Warming.

The fact of the matter is that Creation is a unity. No man is an island, and all greedy attempts at segregation deny the reality of God’s plan for universal oneness, and do so in ways that stir up actual, physical storms. We do control the atmosphere we abide in, not by throwing virgins into volcanoes, nor by driving about in impractical electric vehicles, but more in the manner that the atmosphere of a movie is controlled by background mood music.

A historical example of the uncanny connection between men’s deeds and the weather appears in the fact that, when Hitler’s invasion of Poland forced even the peace-loving Chamberlain to conclude to his cabinet, “Well then, gentlemen, it is war”, there was a brilliant flash of lightning and deafening roar of thunder outside the House of Lords in London. Just a coincidence? I think not. It is as Shakespeare’s Hamlet stated, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy”, though perhaps we should update that to, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Hillary, than are dreamt of in your philosophy”.

The elite can write all the silly laws they want in their mire, thinking they control the vastness of weather (Global Warming preventions) and the minutia of viruses, (Coronavirus vaccines), but they don’t control either. They are pretenders.

They are desperate to cling to the powers they imagine they have gained, through their pretense. These words I write will most definitely be censored, though I write them to warn them, because I pity them. Actions have reactions, and, if one reaps what one sows, the swamp creatures are sowing thistles for themselves.

I’ve been addicted myself, and therefore have compassion towards addicts. I am part of a group striving to help youth escape fentanyl addiction. I wish I could also be of help to the elite, but they don’t admit they are addicted. (To power.)

The “swamp” needs to learn what fentanyl addicts have learned. To get what you desire is hell, compared to what you get when you suffer the agony of withdrawal symptoms.

The “swamp” scoffs at the idea I have anything to offer them, but are so scared of hearing me that they censor me (and millions of others).

They call me a “bitter clinger” (though I’ve never bought a gun) though they are the ones who cling, desperately, to power.

They display contempt towards the hands that feed them, dismissing the breadbasket of the nation as “flyover country.” Poor fools, can they not see what they are earning when they bite the hand that feeds? Don’t they see actions have reactions?

I’d like to go off on a long tangent at this point about the laws of Karma; of “reaping what you sow,” And also of “killing the goose that laid the golden egg”. Often it is better to deny yourself than to get what you want (but don’t need.)

The so-called “deplorable” tend to be poor, and must constantly sacrifice just to get by. They constantly deny themselves. Consequently they know of a sweet freedom, which those, who don’t deny themselves, are ignorant about.

What is this freedom you get? The fentanyl addict wants to know. They long to be free of the constant craving. They hunger to know about freedom, but the swamp is craven, and doesn’t want to know. However, as the swamp is suppose to be representing “the land of the free”, they damn well should want to know. What is this freedom I’m speaking about?

What is the freedom? It is the freedom from being controlled by a craving. Rather than hankering for money or power or fame, you can take them or leave them. You are not some child who will tantrum if they don’t get some toy, nor some adolescent who grieves greatly over infatuations. You just accept the Now.

Donald Trump seems a representative of such freedom. He is not controlled by the “swamps” cravings. All he has earned, through his wish to help us achieve the freedom enshrined in our constitution, is monstrous harassment, yet he remains free.

There is something very attractive about such freedom. It is inherently friendly. When Trump visited the border, he did not give the middle finger to illegal aliens, across the Rio Grande. Instead he cheerfully waved, and an excited voice returned from across the river: “Trump! Trump!” Trump laughed, “Even they like me! Isn’t it incredible?”

Yes, it is indeed incredible. It is also incredible that the governor standing up most for America’s integrity can’t stand up. In his wheelchair he stands taller than many who swagger, up to their armpits in the mire of the swamp.

It is incredible and even a little dream-like, and not a good sign for the swamp that despises impossible dreams, this Super Tuesday. Where they were sure they had loaded the dice and would land on a ladder, they see themselves landing in a swamp seething with snakes.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN EVERLASTING AND ETERNAL

(This being Sunday, I decided to go off on a esoteric tangent.)

It seems a cynical thing to say, but one thing I have learned in my time is that often the surest route to a complete debacle is to try to improve myself. My New Year’s Resolutions usually end in embarrassment.

Not that we should stop striving. I just had my seventy-first birthday, and I’m still striving to stop being such a moron. And I’m certain our efforts don’t go unnoticed in heaven: “No good deed goes unrewarded.” However we don’t live in heaven, which has led to the sardonic, earthy counter: “No good deed goes unpunished.”

Often our punishment is self-inflicted. Our vision of a better way involves a degree of arrogance, and pride is a dirigible just begging for a pin. Many times, when I became aware that my vanity was getting out of hand, I resolved to stop being vain. I strove in vain.

It turns out that, while egotism may be selfishness, it is a sort of necessary evil. The wild winds of this world would disperse us like a puff of cigarette smoke in a gale if we didn’t have some way of standing our ground. So we become like turtles, and our ego is our shell.

Living in a shell gets old. For one thing, it gets lonely.

Long, long ago, when I was a teenager, men were very tough, but perhaps some began wondering if there might be some way to escape the lonely suit of turtle-armor they were clanking about in. “Peter and Gordon” had a hit song called, “The Knight In Rusty Armor,” back in 1967, which, though in some ways risque for it’s time, typified an unspoken restlessness men felt with being turtles, forever tough and “macho”.

Personally, I wasn’t all that macho to begin with, and my sensitivity was worsened by the fact I had skipped a grade and was the youngest boy in my class. Consequently I went to great lengths to prove I wasn’t a weenie, doing things I didn’t much want to do, to prove I wasn’t a coward. For example, at age fifteen I hitchhiked from the coast of Maine up into Quebec to Montreal, and then southwest to the far eastern suburbs of Toronto. While in Montreal I spent 25 cents to take pictures of myself in a “photo booth”, (the equivalent of a “selfie” in those departed days,) putting on my toughest face, but when the strip of four pictures came out I was slightly horrified. I didn’t look tough, but instead terrified. (I looked like a fifteen-year-old all alone in an alien city where many didn’t even speak the same language.) I think I invested a second 25 cents to do a better job of looking tough.

Experiences such as this made me aware, early on, that there was a gentler, kinder side of myself. I wrote a slightly absurd poem at age 16 describing myself as, “a peach, but a peach in a gravel pit. I bruise too easily.” I recognized I wasn’t as tough as I pretended, and even acted. I could crash five cars, just about kill myself with drugs, be involved with drug smugglers and thieves, but another side of me could sob like a baby, when I was hidden within the dark of a movie theater, watching a tearjerker. Which was the real me?

By age nineteen my life was wreckage. All my efforts at being “tough” were a miserable failure. Therefore I went the opposite direction, and became a miserable failure at becoming a “sensitive male.” I studied all sorts of psychologies and religions, and joined “men’s groups” where we deflated our toughness by punching pillows and weeping about how Mommy was mean, and Coach made us run an extra lap. Beyond doubt this put us in touch with a side of ourselves which being “Macho” denied, and even (somewhat accidentally) connected us to the lower echelon of some sort of spiritual hierarchy which had a vague idea of an Almighty, whom one couldn’t see, far above. But this involved an added humiliation, for I had started to see myself as “religious”, but swiftly also saw I failed to live up to my new, high standards. In fact, when push came to shove, I behaved in a downright unspiritual manner.

Perhaps the worst, and most humorous, failure involved a time I was preaching to an elder brother that “peace is the answer,” and he responded that I was only saying that because I was a prissy little mamma’s boy with wrists too limp to fight. I then attempted to punch his lights out, which wasn’t too peaceful of me, was it now?

Now it is fifty years later, and I seldom try to punch anyone’s lights out anymore, for two reasons. First, my withered testicles are failing to produce enough of the hormones which fuel blind fury, and second, if I got into a physical fight I’d very likely get knocked out in fifteen seconds.

I still do enjoy a good brawl on intellectual levels, but an odd detachment seems to have possessed me. I have the awareness that we mortals lack the brains to find our way out of the mess we’ve gotten ourselves into:

Yes, there is a difference between good and evil, but they are of the same coinage. They need each other to be defined. Good is “less evil” and evil is “less good”, but neither achieves the Absolute. The only way to the Absolute is through the Absolute, which is why Jesus said, “The only way to the Father is through Me,” which was the Christ’s way of declaring he was not a mere philosopher of this world, nor a particularly zealous idealist willing to sacrifice His life for His idealism, (which was how I was brought up to view Jesus), but instead Jesus was from Beyond this world.

Beyond this world? What is Beyond this world?

This world is creation. Beyond this world is the Creator.

The Creator didn’t just create small stuff like galaxies; the Creator created time. The Creator is beyond time.

Can any of us imagine what life is like is without time? I think not. And this is one reason we cannot escape the trickery of this world. We require help. Our own efforts are doomed to failure.

As an optimist, it is hard for me to say we are all doomed, but we are, as long as we insist we can do it on our own. We use creation’s standards to envision what the purpose of life is, but the purpose of life is join our Creator, who is utterly beyond worldly imagination. Our minds create many mental tools which are helpful within creation, but they are of no use when it comes to getting out of creation. In fact the mind itself, like time, is a creation, and something short of the Creator.

Artists, when inspired, gain hints of glory beyond ordinary imagination, and strive to share this amazing beauty with their fellow man, and quite often wind up in some way crucified. They are in some ways like small children copying their father. Their creations are nowhere near as grand as God’s; are like a cardboard box is when a child emulates his father’s truck; but this world has a nasty response, when you in any way, shape or form dare say creation is merely a road, a passageway you walk upon, and that the real goal is the Creator. In a sense you are daring to tell the world it is useful, but like a Kleenex is useful; in the end it will be wadded up and thrown away. And none of us likes being treated like a Kleenex.

I could embark on a long digression at this point, describing in intricate detail the various ways this world insists it matters, and its Creator does not. I’ll skip that, and just say whatever your worldly goal is, it is not the End. You may sweat and strain and strive to be world champion, and even if your dream comes true and you become world champion, it is not the End. Your achievement of the pinnacle is followed by a decline. You get old, as I am now, and then you point out (to people who want to be world champions) that such a worldly goal is not the End, and how do people respond? It is as if you have spoken blasphemy. How dare you! How dare you say being world champion doesn’t matter! Are you trying to discourage our youth?

No, but as an artist I see that what really reaches “the people” is not worldly, but otherworldly. Most artists can’t explain it. They just do it. And when they succeed it is glorious, but besides the ecstasy there is agony. “You gotta pay the dues if you’re gonna sing the blues.” If you take on the role of creator you must also accept the crucifixion.

You may say this world does reward it’s best artists, with millions of dollars, and appreciative audiences roaring approval, and adoring groupies, but in my life I’ve watched how such great men suffer. John Lennon got shot. John Baluchi died of debauchery. And the delightful Robin Williams hung himself. If that is the reward success gains you, I feel blessed to be unsuccessful. It seems even in the small world of art, people prefer the creation more than the Creator. People will spend millions for a painting by Van Gogh, but if they ever had met the agonized man, they likely would have found him weird, and wouldn’t give him the time of day. And, if that is true in the small world of art, is it any wonder that, in the giant world of Absolute Reality, the Creator himself got crucified?

However the Good Book states the Creator bounced right back. Jesus rose from the grave. Creation cannot obliterate its Creator, nor negate the reason for being created, which is to join the Creator in “timelessness”.

And what is the punishment for refusing the Creator’s compassionate invitation? It is to remain in time, which is called the “everlasting.”

In other words, we are given the choice to leave creation and join our Maker in the bliss of Timelessness, or of staying stuck in time. Most chose to stay stuck.

The fact we are given free will, and tend to prefer the known to the unknown, is frustrating to some preachers, who want people to Love God, and accept God’s invitation, and therefore they attempt to bully their congregations into submission. Rather than “everlasting” they like to add horror, and say “everlasting hell” and “everlasting lake of fire.” They desire to scare the bejeezes out of you, which makes them quite different from our compassionate Creator, (and in many cases makes they themselves become candidates for hell). Our Creator does not bully; he gave us free will; He wants us to follow His advice because we adore Him, not because we are cowering in dread.

As a person attempting to be a poet, I have blundered into some inspirations that can only be described as “heavenly.” However they did not last. They obeyed the Law of time, which is that nothing in creation is Eternal. All created things have beginnings and ends, in terms of time. “This too must pass.”

In other words, “everlasting heaven” would still be within the traps of time, and less than the bliss of joining our Creator outside of the trap of creation called time. Therefore, as attractive as such heaven might be, it would still hold the pangs of separation from the Creator. Even as one reaped the rewards which the virtuous deserve, one would know they were still on the road; they had not shed the shell of a turtle and become absorbed in What We Cannot Imagine.

Seen in this light, a person enjoying “everlasting heaven” is not that far removed from “everlasting hell.” The former are experiencing enjoyment as the latter experience suffering, but they are stuck in time.

One of the most intriguing statements in the Bible is where Saint Peter states what Jesus did during the time between when his body was “dead” and when his body was “resurrected”. Peter states Jesus went to hell to “preach to the sinners of Noah’s time.”

(If Christianity had the eraser of “cancel culture”, this statement would be scrubbed from scripture. It has caused problems. Why would Jesus preach to the damned? Were they not “everlastingly” damned? Or is there an escape from hell? Jesus would not preach just to rub it in that the damned were forever doomed, but rather to save them from doom. So there must be an escape hatch from hell, which led to the concept of “purgatory”, which is “derived but not mentioned” in Christian scripture, and has led to one heck of a row.)

Personally I’ve tended to retreat from all religious squabbling. It has gotten out of hand. I study history, and know “the Pope”, (actually many Popes over 2000 years), has authorized the deaths of roughly fifty million Christians. Hitler only killed six million Jews, and he could claim they were “not Christian”. As the “Pope” killed fifty million he knew they were fellow Christians, but didn’t agree with Rome. God may have given such free thinkers free will, but the “Papacy” did not approve of freedom. In response Protestants have killed millions of Catholics. Likely their numbers are less, but only because Protestants have only had five hundred years to butcher within. And the peculiar thing is both sides insist they are not aggressive, but merely “defending” their faith.

Islam is no different. Millions have died in wars between Sunni and Shiite. They are no different from Catholics and Protestants. They took otherworldly Love and made it dirty and worldly. They used scriptures of Love to make war.

And if Christians can’t even get along with Christians, and Muslims can’t even get along with Muslims, it is little wonder that when these two supposedly spiritual groups meet the sparks fly, and our planet sees all the pleasantries of crusades and jihads.

That is why I tend to retreat from all religious squabbling. The “experts” so obviously miss the point. I want to use the free will God has blessed me with to be a free thinker.

What I have concluded, with my puny intellect, is that there is a big difference between the “everlasting” and the “eternal.” The “everlasting” exists within time and space, but the “eternal” exists in timelessness and spacelessness. And, around the time my thinking gets this far, there is smoke and the reek of burning rubber, and my brains burn out. For even the perfected mind of a mastermind cannot comprehend God, and therefore my puny intellect hasn’t got a prayer, (yet, oddly, when you haven’t got a prayer tends to be when you pray most.)

The mind too is a creation. It is the most useful tool of all (when it properly integrates the heart) for traversing creation, but in the end it is shed, like a useful knapsack is shed at the end of a long, long journey. But who can imagine this? The very idea of losing our minds tends to fill us with dread.

(I warned you at the start this would be an esoteric tangent. The definition of “esoteric” is “a subject few understand.” I am not one of the few who understand. I am one of the many who don’t. But I do like to look at Infinity, and be humbled by wonder.)

BLIZZARD WARNING

I have been privately thanking God for the past two mild winters, for, with the cost of heating through the roof, mild weather is mercy.

Winter, however, is not so merciful, in and of itself. Winter cannot help but be what it is, which is winter. Even when you make money from operating a lunch stand at a ski resort, as I once did, winter is an ordeal. I also used to make good money shoveling snow from roofs, or even walkways, taking advantage of people less muscular than I used to be. But even then winter was an ordeal. It is what it is. That is why the local Native American word for “old man” roughly translates to “one who has seen many winters.”

Winter takes a lot out of you. It is a season of subtraction. You start with lots of firewood, and like the sand in an hourglass, your woodpile dwindles away. In like manner you start with lots of hay in your barn for your livestock, and it too dwindles away. As does your food. One reason for Lent’s fasting is that little is left in the pantry, and a reason corn beef and cabbage is dinner on Saint Patrick’s Day is because that is all you have left.

As one endures this ordeal one keeps a sharp eye out for rats. They creep about and steal from the supplies you have so carefully set aside. Actual rats are bad enough, and I have fought them for decades. My fellow man should not be a rat, however Fraudulent Biden does appear to be a rat, for he is the reason energy prices have soared, and he is the reason inflation gnaws away at elderly schoolmarm’s pensions, with ratty vigor.

Fraudulent Biden even seems to be a winter, in and of himself. He is like ice upon warm America. Nothing he does promotes increase, and all he does decreases.

Some people claim we are sacrificing in order to achieve some high aim, but their math makes no sense. Elemental algebra tells even poets like me, who hated math classes, that what Fraudulent Biden calls “Bidenconomics” is basically a rat in the pantry.

Farmers don’t like rats, but they cannot allow a single rat to so grasp their attention that it is as if that nasty rat ruled the farm. In like manner, the stupidities of Fraudulent Biden (and the echoing stupidity of his stupid minions) cannot be allowed to pollute our judgement and common sense.

In our world, which politicians like to feel they are “above”, the hardship of winter has a benefit. The farmers note where their preparations for winter had shortcomings, and they sketch plans for how they will do better next time. And they do do better. They learn from experience. No pain, no gain.

Please note that the reason they improved was because they admitted they had shortcomings. This is one thing many politicians seem incapable of doing.

As I write it is 50 degrees (10 degrees Celsius). This is near record setting warmth for 9:00 in the evening this far north. However the pines are roaring atop the hills, as a front is about to pass. Temperatures are about to crash thirty degrees. No big deal. Just a front passing.

However 136 years ago it was a very big deal. The sharp digging of the arctic front tapped into the uplifting of a southern system, and the “phasing” of the two systems reinforced a lazy southern low drifting north and created an explosion at the mouth of the Hudson River.

The men forecasting back then didn’t see it coming. They can be forgiven, for we have never seen it again. They assumed the southern low would drift east, and the northern cold would drift east as well. This normalcy did not occur. Instead the the two systems sharpened just far enough north and south to “phase”, and the Blizzard of 1888 blew up out of nowhere.

It was a freak storm, basically a North Atlantic gale which belonged out by Iceland or Greenland, or parked off Labrador, but instead it parked just south of New York City. Consequently people in New York City got to see what life is like in Iceland, when the banshees of winter howl.

Try to imagine the mayhem which would occur if we saw a repeat of such a storm. Now people get all a tither in the Big Apple if they get four inches of snow in twenty-four hours, but the Blizzard of 1888 delivered four feet. And it was accompanied by steady winds of forty miles an hour, with far higher gusts. These winds created huge drifts. Lastly, this incredible storm hit an unsuspecting population, at a time when you had to show up at work to get paid. And the forecast was for “light rain, and then turning colder”. People attempted to conduct “business as usual” even as snows fell at a rate of more than three inches an hour, in 40 mph winds. Sadly, roughly 400 people died.

Roughly 100 were sailors, and as I’ve researched the event I have searched to find their reports, for sailors tend to know more about the weather than landlubbers. However, from what I have learned, sailors were as surprised as anyone else. Very few had boats with with engines, and most were still dependent on sails, so very few few would have left shore that morning if they knew such a storm was six hours away. But it was a mild morning at the end of a mild winter, and many set out with the innocent naivete of imbeciles.

Soon many were reversing course and praying to God they could make it home. As they described it, their barometers abruptly fell with amazing speed, (some people concluded their barometers must be broken when they fell below 28.00 inches of mercury,) (948 mb). However it was only the captain who was attending to technical stuff like barometers; the deck hands also knew they were in for it, when the sky abruptly became a purple close to black, and lightning laced the skies.

There are some tales of ships who made it back to port through abruptly bitterly cold winds and blinding snow, but many did not make it. Some turned out to sea, because they knew they could not make it. They knew it was safer to stay away from shipwrecking coasts, and to reef sails and put up a storm jib and to “ride it out”. They describe a surprising period of calm midst the screaming winds, like the eye of a hurricane.

Meanwhile, back in the world of landlubbers, New York City was basically reduced to an inoperative condition in six hours. All the trains, which were the most “modern” transport at that time, ground to a halt, or crashed into each other, because brakes failed to work on the ice. (The “modern” solution of 1888 was to “elevate” the trains above the streets.) Meanwhile all the “modern” electric and telegraph poles and lines were crashing in the wind and heavy, sticky snow. New York City couldn’t communicate with outsiders. (Actually one smart reporter found a way. He communicated using the cable under the ocean to Europe, and then back again, to tell Bostonian readers what was happening in New York. Boston got off easy, with only flooding docks and screaming winds and two inches of slush, but only forty miles inland people saw four feet of snow. That includes the area where I now live in southern New Hampshire.

It was an amazing storm, at the end of a very mild winter. I bring it up for two reasons. The first is that you shouldn’t lower your guard, just because this winter has been so kindly, in many respects. But the second reason is that, though it is sad roughly 400 died, the storm had a good effect, as well. Rather than the railways being “elevated” they became “subways”, and also electricity went underground, and in front of New Yorker’s homes they now don’t have to look at this:

New York City learned a valuable lesson from that awful storm. They took misfortune and made themselves fortunate.

I pray we can do the same thing with the misfortune called Fraudulent Biden. Like winter, he is an ordeal, but we can make our suffering become benefits.

Keep the faith.

PAYING TAXES TO WHORES

Sadly, it has become painfully and increasingly obvious that my government does not operate as a meritocracy, based on merit and the quality of your character, but rather on what is called a “pay to play” mentality, which boils down to bribery. If you can’t lay down the dollars you can’t get the service. In essence, this makes government workers into whores. They will not perform their service unless you bribe them. “Public servants” have redefined the word “public.”

This disgusting state of affairs might be barely acceptable if public servants actually performed the services they should, but they don’t. Many can’t. They were not hired due to any merit they have, but because of some bribe in back rooms, some cronyism or nepotism, and the result is people incapable of doing their job.

It might be a bit more bearable if the bribes were big enough to pay the bozos salaries, but it only gets them their jobs. They demand taxpayers pay them. Nor do they accept legitimate wages collected from the actual work of actual taxpayers. They demand even more, so imaginary money must be created at a printing press.

Personally I think such dollars should be printed with red ink. Red because it involves the government operating “in the red” and increases our national debt. And red because such stupidity is communism.

In any case, government workers, and those dependent on government grants (IE bribes) would have red dollars, while decent, honest people would have green dollars. And very soon we would see red dollars were not worth as much as the green ones. Inflation would only afflict the government workers who were part of the problem, not the decent folk with green dollars. And should inflation become hyperinflation: (A loaf of bread in Berlin that cost around 160 Marks at the end of 1922 cost 200,000,000,000 Marks by late 1923), it would only afflict the whores.

It is fairly obvious this perversion can only go so far before it completely breaks down. When a loaf of bread costs 200,000,000,000 Marks, even a billion dollar bribe becomes peanuts.The whores refuse to perform for peanuts.

However, for the time being there are a few imbeciles swaggering about glutted by a delusional wine that allows them to think they control the great and the small, huge hurricanes and microscopic viruses, Global Warming and the Coronavirus, when in fact they don’t control either. God does. It is the Law.

It is the law I must pay taxes to such imbeciles. I do the obey the law, even though they don’t. I pay taxes to whores, but also write sonnets in order to express my complete contempt for their leadership.

As I start my taxes this year, reluctantly poking through an unholy, disorganized heap of papers I call “my filing system”, I chanced upon some scribbled sonnets from last year, on the backs of envelopes and receipts, which seemingly are “self expression” that leaks out my contempt. Some were impulsive ventings I forgot I had vented. (It makes doing my taxes more interesting, to discover such things.)

The first was a scribble from mid January, 2023, (cramped between weather observations), which I thought so little of I never bothered with any correcting, nor polished and “published” it on this obscure blog. But a year later it seems to ring especially true:

The second was from when I was completing my taxes last year, around April 15, 2023.

Well, here we are, a year later, and here we go again.