Friday, October 21st 2022

Wow. That was a great night’s sleep. There is definitely something going on here with the change of seasons. Maybe it was all of the exercise yesterday. Maybe it was something else. I don’t remember sleeping that soundly. 

Today is Friday and tomorrow is my day off. True, there is not that much difference these days between my days off and my days on. With the garden locked up, or mostly locked up, and without any responsibilities that require me to go anywhere, everyday is I guess what it’s supposed to be. I could put two words on this. The first one could be retirement. The second one that comes to mind is simply Life. Life doesn’t exactly seem to fit. Perhaps freedom is the best word. Yeah, I am experiencing moments of freedom.

The difference between this and a vacation is that I don’t really have an ending date. As far as I can see, this will just continue. Ye, yes, yes, we have the war and we are surrounded by Nazis and fascists and anti-semites and hatefully cruel alcoholic sadists. But other than that…

I think I’m going to continue my bread making for tonight. There was a time in my life where I just couldn’t get my handle on making bread. It’s really not hard at all. But when I was in my twenties I tried to do this and I was a complete failure at it.

What was the difference between myself and my twenties and now? Well, I’m smarter now. When I was in my twenties, I was ruled by my environment and my body and money and my emotions. I didn’t think very deeply about anything. Ideas came to me. I was somewhat philosophical or at least in my teens I realized I had a predilection for philosophy. But for sure, I was very spastic in my motions.

I remember once I completely fell in love with a girl who worked at a bread company. I forget the name of this place but the trick of it was that they hand kneaded bread and gave away slices of bread and butter for people who wanted it walking into the shop. It was amazing Brad and the girl was amazingly beautiful. That was just one single moment. It actually changed my life.

I was on a bus going from somewhere to somewhere and we had a small break and could get off and walk around for a few minutes. I saw this bread place and walked in and there was this beautiful girl working there. The combination of the girl and the fresh bread and the smell of the place was too much. She fell right into the flirt with me and there was magic there. For me at least there was magic. Well no, there was magic for her as well.

But then I got on the bus and went where I was going but sometime later when that deal was over, forgive me for being a little dim on the details of this if my life, I went back to that town to find that girl. I could probably remember the whole situation if I truly sat down and worked it out logically. The town we were stopping in was Ogden Utah. Most probably I was traveling between Oregon to Denver Colorado. That would make sense. Maybe not. But the point is that when I came back later to look for her, she remembered me at a glance as well.

I absolutely remember it was Ogden Utah because when I went back, all on the promise of the magic of that one moment while we were pausing during a bus journey, I managed to build a life for myself in one day. I had my guitar with me and I stopped into a cafe and the owner, a very nice lady, took an interest in me and came by to say hello. I was invited to play my guitar there at an open mic that they had on Fridays, I was told that there was a major building site not far away and I found an apartment in a newspaper all before I ever left that cafe. Two conversations and a handshake got me the job and one conversation, a hundred bucks and another handshake got me the apartment. All on the magic of that one moment.

I didn’t get the girl unfortunately. She did remember me but she also met someone else and was engaged by that time. I guess I just met someone at exactly that time of their life. Eventually, I had to leave the job because they were leveraging me to join the Mormon church. They told me it didn’t matter that I was Jewish and I didn’t really have to believe. It was just a matter of joining that was important. Well, joining and tithing 10%. I sold my tools to my boss, quit the apartment early and gave my security fee to the owner out of respect for the contract and went on to my next adventure.

The building job by the way was the Egyptian theater which is still there. I worked on the stone cladding on the facade. I don’t know if the bread company is still around but hope they are. I also hope the girl is happy.

Obviously this is an example of someone who is both free and is ruled by romantic gestures. This is an age that sends people to war enthusiastically. We can say what we want about whose propaganda is right and whose is wrong. We can argue about the validity of our Kings and whether or not their movements are ours. We can hire Shakespeare to write a speech for us, words powerful enough to raise us above our normal stations in life to become poet warrior murderers for the sake of our great cause.

…This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin, Crispian shall ne’er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remember’d; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

This is from Henry V. It’s only the last few lines because the first 80% of the speech is about the whims of rich people and the politics behind the fight. This is the emotional ending that makes the speech so powerful. We, we happy few, we band of Brothers, will be remembered…

So some accountant with a bad back and a pot belly with two girls in Middle School gets a letter saying he is to report to the military to serve his country. His help is needed in the slaughter of Ukrainian citizens. It is his civic duty. He probably thinks about all of his opportunities. If he runs, the family has no father, he has no job and his whole life crashes down. If he refuses, he has no job, the family has no father and he goes to jail and his whole life crashes down. If he goes, possibly his payments continue but his family has no father. If he dies, there probably isn’t any insurance. If he lives, maybe he’s a hero or maybe he spends the rest of his life being hunted as a Nazi.

Well, he doesn’t really have much of a choice. His accountant job will definitely be lost if he doesn’t go because the chain of command goes straight to the top and going against the party that has kept him in his bullshit job and kept the money flowing to him will all be gone by not agreeing. 

There are no medical inspections or exceptions for people with his ailments or age. He has no choice so he gets on the bus. They give him clothes that don’t fit very well and a gun from 30 years ago that might not fire. They point out a few basics about shooting a gun. He is in training for about 3 days, long enough to get a few papers stamped and then he is on a train and two buses and he and his band of Brothers get sent into a place where people are killing each other regularly and drones are dropping bombs out of the sky and artillery is blasting away from both sides.

It’s the same general choice. He can move where they tell him to move no matter how painful and slow it is. He can aim his gun and shoot where they tell him to aim and shoot. Maybe when he shoots, he will aim high or wide. He doesn’t want to look bad or make any statements about not wanting to kill anybody. If they see that he’s just pulling the trigger and bullets are flying, nobody will blame him for bad aim. Most of the time you’re just shooting in a general direction anyway. Most of the time you never know if your bullets actually hit anybody. You don’t even really know when you fire your gun if you’ll hit a soldier or maybe the bullet will travel in a slightly unplanned direction and kill a civilian, maybe a teenage girl just like the one you left at home. Or a pregnant woman. Or a small child held in the arms of a woman trying desperately to run away from the war.

Or maybe he decides that he must do his best and aims as well as he can and pulls the trigger with a soldier exactly in his sight. A pop. Not even much recoil and the man falls. Who was this guy? What life did he have? Who was his family and his friends and what was his future? Did he fall in love one time with a girl he met who was making bread? Could that moment have been enough to change his life forever? And In This moment when all he wanted to do was to get the people who had taken over his country uninvited to go home and go back to their own lives and leave him and his people and their lives alone would never know another day on this planet. Or perhaps would simply never walk again. Or perhaps would never have children again or speak properly again or spend a day where he doesn’t have to put on a prosthetic limb.

But this is consciousness. What if the guy’s just drunk. This is all the romance of being fully conscious of your actions. What if he’s been drinking constantly from the moment he got his notice? What if they were drinking on the bus and he had already gotten as much vodka into himself to calm his nerves as possible? What if he really wasn’t thinking much about anything and was just brutally pulling the trigger as fast as he could trying to save his life?

What happens next? He suddenly finds himself on the ground. There was a moment that felt like he was being punched in the face. He reaches up with a free hand to feel the area where the punch hit him and something is completely wrong. He can’t see out of his left eye and his fingers are feeling something very wet and sticky and the side of his face that was supposed to be hard from Bones is now suddenly soft and mushy. What the fuck? Am I going to die? Am I going to go blind? Am I ever going home? Why am I here? Why have I come here?

No. That’s not what happens. The idiot conscripts he’s with actually do the job. They are not skilled but they have guns and there are too many of them to kill. They are simply shooting too many bullets in the correct direction and the enemy retreats. They have held their line. They are heroes. Perhaps he gets to go home and now he has a story about how he was a hero for the fatherland. He helped hold the line one day and he comported himself bravely. He doesn’t know if he actually killed anybody and yet, he was there, he didn’t run and he did his best.

No, that’s not what happens. What happens is when the push comes and the line falls because nobody really knows what they are doing because nobody bothered to train him and he wasn’t very healthy to start with, he shits his pants and drops his weapon and cowers with fear and screams “Я сдаюсь. Я сдаюсь.” I surrender. I don’t know what I’m here for and I don’t want to die. I have a family and I had no choice. I have tried not to kill anybody but there was nothing else I could do but come here. I’m not a young man. I’m not a killer. I don’t hate you. I don’t want to kill anyone. I just had no choice. Please don’t kill me. I have a family. I just want to go home.

Yeah, for sure war is for young impressionable men who believe in fleeting ideas and throw themselves away on romantic notions.

Of course, the thing about it is that I was free even then. That freedom came from a very specific moment. I guess I’ve talked about that a number of times. That freedom came from a specific moment when I realized I was free sometime earlier than this. There was a moment where I realized that freedom meant that I could do whatever I wanted. Freedom meant that I was not obligated to give my life away anymore. Freedom event it was my choice what I did with myself and how I took care of myself. Freedom meant the end of slavery.

When I got off that bus, I was a free man. When I came back to find that girl, I was a free man. True, I worked for that company but I was under no obligation to join the Mormon church or to give up my freedom simply for whatever thought of being in the pocket of Love joining them would have given me. I said thanks for the experience and I was free again. No harm, no foul and when I look at a picture of the Egyptian theater, I know exactly what stones I participated in.

I guess you can call this retirement. But it’s really just a little bit more freedom. I did not spend my money hysterically when I was having good years. I did lose quite a bit of money. A lot of it was not even me. This country has had a very volatile record with money. We’ve had three currencies completely collapse and several other moments of ridiculous inflation that have made our economics a complete disaster. These sanctions placed upon us really are nothing particularly new. Actually, having our lives ripped away from us is nothing particularly new. There has been no genuine stability here. 

But yet, I managed to find my place here. Certainly we have more Nazis now. The Nazis used to only exist in the state run operations. Now the Nazis are everywhere. We have a lot more propaganda now. You can’t really say that life is perfect when you’re surrounded by Nazis. Nazis and fascists do not breed happiness. There is no invitation that leads to satisfaction. I knew this when they were telling me that the only way I could stay would be to join the Mormon church. Whatever it is I thought I saw, it was only available to me if I agreed to join. I never joined. I never joined them and I never joined anybody here either.

What is the cost of freedom? Well, it’s an interesting thought. Sure, they could pull the rug out from under me anytime they wanted. But then again, they are doing the same thing to their own people right now. What’s the difference? Could they deprive me of money? It’s not even the Belarusians or the Russians who are doing that. We have people denying US money from 10,000 miles away. We have people deciding our economics for us and our medical care for us who have never even set foot in this country and have absolutely no vested interest in any of our lives. What’s the difference?

I have people telling me that I’m a traitor to the United States. I’m not. I’ve never worked against the American government. I’ve never picked up a gun in a war. I have never done anything in my life as an act of patriotism other than picking up the pen and telling the truth as I saw it that the world would be much better off without Donald Trump. I also do not remember doing anything patriotic either for or against the state of Belarus. I have never done anything aggressive other than pick up a pen and tell the truth. I am not a fan of Moscow and I have picked up the pen many, many, many times to tell the truth to the best of my ability about what it’s like having them in our lives. I’m not a traitor or a patriot to any group. I was given my freedom one time a long time ago and though I’ve had many people try to take it from me, this is the only thing I have never surrendered.

Anyway, today is Friday. I’m going to make some bread. I’m going to use the same recipe as last time. I might put some sesame seeds in there but that will be the only edition. Just some white flour mixed with some whole wheat flour and I’ll use more of my dry yeast as a rising agent. I’m going to make a hummus again. It won’t be a traditional hummus. It’ll be more like a hummus / peanut sauce. It’s all the same. You can’t really have a day off without the cream. You have got to have the cream or you’re just not really living, are you?

After that, it’s just fruits and vegetables. I’ll make something tasty and flavorful and maybe a little spicy. Probably it’ll end up being some tomato based thing. You could call it a deconstructionist pizza. I do this every week. It doesn’t matter how busy I am or how many obligations I have. I do this every week like religion. 

By the way, I highly recommend that you do the same. You don’t have to be Jewish to take a day off. You don’t have to be anything. You can just be you. But that day off when you say stop, no thank you and please do not bother me in any way is the day that will change your life. It is the day of freedom from slavery. It’s the greatest addiction of all time. It’s the day that gives you back yourself. I highly recommend you try it sometime. In fact, along with veganism, I truly believe that taking the day off would be the salvation of the world. No cars, no traveling, no buying or selling. No bullshit. Just peace. 

***

You know, it seems I spend so much time writing about politics these days. This is not what I wanted to do this year. I mean, I kind of feel as though I’ve made my point but what I really wanted to write about this year was food. And when I tell you there will be a hummus tonight, it is because you just can’t live without it.

Go vegan. Please, for the love of God and the future of our planet, Just go vegan. It’s probably the single most patriotic act anyone could ever do and it feels good as well.

***

Here’s the latest news from the front from Denys Davydov.

There is no question of bias in his films. There is no question that he’s in it for the money and shooting for popularity. There is no question about his political affiliation. There’s no question that this is one-sided. However, he does seem to tell the truth and if you just put all of the pure propaganda to one side, you get a good explanation of the maps and the political situation.

He also has me thinking of politics right now. I’ve been doing some thinking about whether this is my last day this year or whether I will hold on for the last planned four weeks. My actual thinking is that I’m probably going to stick around.

There is a reason to go both directions. As far as my personal point of view goes, I probably have said all I needed to say. I mean, you can’t focus on any one sentence amidst this year’s million plus words. But I think people understand that I’m against this war or any War, that I am a vegan by choice and by nature and belief and that I do not particularly believe that the world will solve its problems by using the systems that are currently in place. I don’t believe you can use slavery to fix slavery, economic disparity to fix economic disparity or industrial means to fix problems caused by industry. The only possibility is to change and get out of our normal habit. It’s time to break the cycle and go in a new direction.

But the politics are at least interesting. I don’t believe it makes a huge difference whether one group of American politicians retain or lose power. I genuinely and honestly think that the conservatives are out of their minds collectively. I understand that they are trying to do things but what they are trying to do is simply to continue human misery at its absolute maximum for the purposes of keeping money flowing to the corporations. There is absolutely nothing else going on except keeping the money flow going to their corporate sponsors and to themselves. Money and power and they do not care how many people die or how miserable people are. It’s pure Mafia and no other thinking need apply.

So, most probably the decision is to keep this thing going until week 45. That’ll take me to about the 18th of November. The world won’t stop turning on the 18th of November. The odds of the War ending before the 18th of November are practically zero. Nevertheless, it might be worth just doing my job.

On the other side, maybe this is just not needed. That tree that falls in the forest makes a big sound whether anyone is there to hear it or not. But if nobody gives a damn about trees falling or the cause of the end of that tree’s life or the life of the entire planet for that matter, who needs the redundancy? I mean, I care. I try. I do the best I can to live my life as simply and as green as possible. I’ve been here everyday. 

But perhaps the truth really is that you just can’t reason with alcoholics and other drug addicts like fascists and Nazis. You just can’t fight a world full of addicts who believe that their addiction is more important than everything and everyone.

***

It’s about a quarter to 11:00 right now and I am in the kitchen basking at the end of an absolutely ridiculously tasty breakfast. Just veggies and potatoes but cooked two absolute perfection in my duck pot.

I’ve had two guests so far today. Lana came by this morning to help with the cleanup heading into my day off. There were lots of nice words passed between us. I am very popular with her family and her mother vociferously sends her regards. Apparently, my self-sufficiency as far as my medical needs are concerned is now a part of my image among the best circles. It’s nice to know that someone at least has the wherewithal to say the words that I matter to somebody.

And then just a few minutes ago, that black cat with the white paws came for a visit. This time, I was prepared. This time, I was armed with an absolute nuclear weapon for cats. This time I had a bag of kitekat brand cat food. A big shout out to Lena for bringing me this from the store.

The cat was not expecting anything and really only came for the ear scratch. That was the only thing I had for it last time and even though I asked him to come back several times (kss kss kss is appropriate Russian communication with cat to get their attention), he really wouldn’t bother to come until I put my hand down telling him I needed something soft under my fingers. Or that there would be some direct attention for him.

I may get in trouble for saying this but to be honest with you, this cat has learned its survival techniques through several generations from people who live exactly here. There is almost no difference between this cat and Lena or Ghenna. The cat never stopped talking loudly, he never stopped walking around pretending to be hunting and screaming at me what a good Hunter he was and how useful he was but in the end, just wanted as many fist bumps as he could get.

But once he found his comfort, he ate the kitekat happily but unfortunately, the effect of this factory food is exactly the same as factory food for people and it did not leave him satisfied. He went back to pretending to hunt and then finally found his way up on the stove next to me where he started licking at the stove top trying to find some residual olive oil or stew. Most probably, his normal diet is something from the table and white bread soaked in water. This is what normally people feed a cat and then let them find their meat on their own.

So I got the hint and I put another small portion of cat food in the bowl and then poured some warm water and swirled it around to make some gravy. Then I added a tiny bit of oatmeal for filler and put it on the ground. It took the cat about 5 minutes to gobble this down and apparently I got the recipe correct.

I shot a few pictures and a short film of the cat being here and sent it to my ex partner. She is a cat fanatic although thankfully, she doesn’t have any cats of her own. Her neighbor is the cat breeder. I would prefer not to talk about that subject just now. But my ex partner says that this cat is now mine and we’ll make a programmage to come see me everyday. I hope he gets used to not being invited on Saturdays. Nobody works in this house on Saturdays. And also, I hope having a cat around at least a little while everyday Will mean something for the mouse population around here.

I mean, that’s all I need is one more alcoholic on my payroll not doing anything but telling me how wonderful they are. Russians are huge on propaganda. They like the idea more than they like the actual work. 

Nevertheless, I’ve had two friends come visit me today. They have both come, made my life slightly better for having been here and then left to go on about their own days. For me, it feels like I just hit a home run.

***

I just a quick discussion in response to a suggestion from a genuine friend. They sent a very brief message. I have some people that have notifications and whenever I write something, they are right there. This is good to know. This is what they said:

How about just writing for fun?

I thought this was a pretty good comment and worthy of the truest answer I could possibly come up with.

When I first started writing many years ago I learned quite a few things that have to do with art and art writing. The most important of which is a philosophy that goes something like “all art is communication and all communication is idea, format and audience”. Another way to say this is what you are going to say, how you are going to say it and who you plan on saying it to.

I’ve never had a taste for visual arts. My father tried to get me hooked on photography but it never took with me. It was just too expensive. Okay, I did take quite a few pictures of my ex-girlfriend but this was really her fetish. She was the picture freak. I do use the camera on my phone quite often. I understand that I don’t publish the pictures I take here and I don’t because I want this to be a space of words and not another photography site. I like the effect of words and ideas much more than I like staring at meat. But these pictures are just information. I send it to my ex partner mostly. It’s just because she works here too.

So the ideas came with great regularity. I am pretty good about coming up with thoughts. That’s never been my problem. The format I chose was writing. The idea eventually was to write for theater and have other people be the meat. I wanted my ideas out there but I thought that I did not want to be on screen talent.

I have done that by the way and there are 20 something videos on YouTube from my attempt to do advertising through YouTube films. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight since then. In fact, that was the only thing that I really got out of making those films. I didn’t like what I looked like or sounded like and started taking care of my health. I guess you could count that as another catalyst for change.

The stickler to me has always been audience. Who am I writing to? Who is my reader? Even a readership of one sometimes it’s worth the effort. But it has to be an honest readership. It has to be someone who wants to read you and it has to be someone honest enough to tell you the truth about what they see.

Last year, when I had the idea to put together some green businesses, I advertised for some help and got a few people that were interested. My ex partner was not interested in a job which is why she is my ex partner. But amongst the people that I found, there was no one who really wanted to listen to my thoughts. I had one lady who believed the job I was hiring her for was to read my writing back to me so I could hear my words. I tried to tell her that I’m not that egotistical. I’m not in love with the sound of my own voice. Other than this, I ran into people who thought that I was paying for their artistry and that anything I said or wanted was just more problems in the road for them. They were more interested in sponsorship than helping out.

All of this comes back to the question of what this phrase “writing for fun” it’s supposed to mean. Writing, or the act of writing can sometimes be fun. But what is fun about it is when you are perhaps finding the words to a particularly delicious moment because you know that this moment is going to be a great pleasure for someone else. Just sitting around and writing words is not that interesting in and of itself. Doing what I am doing right now is not just pleasuring myself no matter how much people would like to think that it is. What I’m doing here is trying to say something meaningful that hopefully will inspire people to go in a good direction. There is no other reason to do this.

Writing for fun or writing for one’s self is basically masturbation. Hey, nobody’s knocking masturbation. Masturbation is one of the greatest things to do in the world. Woody Allen calls it simply having sex with someone you love. All I’m saying is, I do not get that feeling from writing. I do not have orgasmic spasms from creating words. I get a lot of pleasure from putting together reasonable thoughts. I feel downright satisfied and gratified when I can put a good argument to something that needs to be argued well. I take a tremendous amount of pleasure in my ability to be understood and to speak in a logical and understandable way. But all of this requires a partner. I have to be speaking to someone in order for this to make sense.

This is probably why I’m so serious about not wanting people to stare at my meat. I am not a meat eater so forgive my metaphor but what I’m saying is I really don’t want people reading me and then thinking about my body. I’m not writing this for me no matter how much you think I am. I am writing this for you. I am writing this for you to read. I am writing this in the hope that I can convince you to be a better person and to be better at taking care of the world and perhaps live less selfishly. I am living less selfishly because I think it’s appropriate for me to do so. Would I like to go another way? No. I don’t need any vacations from this. I don’t want to go to a barbecue. I don’t want any of the trappings of the world outside of what I’m doing.

But this is not pleasure writing. I take pleasure in this. I take pleasure in The Craft and frankly in the discipline of putting it out. I take a bit of pride in my coherency and I definitely take quite a bit of pride and therefore pleasure in saying the things I do because I believe I’m doing something very good for the world and for everybody and everything who lives in it. But I only feel this pleasure if and only if there are people reading me. Without readers, and this includes you guys in the KGB and the CIA, there was never any reason to do this. And frankly, if my message gets through to the boss, I’ve definitely done my job.

Please tell the boss what I’ve said. Please tell the rich guys what I am saying. Please pass my thoughts along and please tell them that it was me who said it and that I believed in every word that I put here.

Believe me, I take as much or more pleasure from your orgasm than I do from my own.

However, yes, I have thought about going back to project writing. I have thought about writing scenarios and dramas. I have thought about going back to playwriting. In fact, the only thing that has stopped me from doing this is a lack of connection to a theater and that no one has asked me to do this. 

I’m not talking about a suggestion from a friend as to what I should do, I’m talking about a genuine commission. We will give you some money and you should write a play for us. Or, we’d be interested in giving you some money to play one of your plays. Or even that they would be interested in playing one of my plays. All of this would add great relevance to the process.

Basically, I picked up the pen 3 years ago to ask people not to vote for Donald Trump. 4 years earlier, I went on social media as loudly as I possibly could asking people not to vote for Donald Trump. That was the single biggest catalyst I’ve ever experienced. Mr Trump was the worst mistake the United States has ever made.

I actually thought those 270 essays were a bit of a stunt. But then the very next January when the vacation was over, I realized how much energy came from this and that if I could get people to listen to me, I could get some good things to happen. In other words, if I’m not looking for votes, I could just do my job. And so I did and it was worth nothing.

This year, I planned on absolutely nothing. No advertising, no social media exposure. I told a few people I was doing it and a few people followed me. This is a pleasure. This is me just doing it for myself. This is me fully understanding that my words carry no weight, creates no movement and changes no minds. This year is still the truth. This year is still me doing my job. But this is just me doing my job for a world that is too stupid to know when somebody is telling the truth.

Thank you for your comment. I hope this answer has been satisfying for you.

***

What is being contested in the upcoming elections for the USA?

All 435 House seats will be contested in November, while 35 senators will also be elected. 

• Democratic incumbent running are light blue      
• Democratic incumbent retiring is dark blue
• Republican incumbents running are orange     
• Republican incumbent retiring are red
• No election is gray

At a glance, most probably the states that are Democrat will stay Democrat and the states that are Republican will stay Republican. It is possible that Georgia and Illinois will be considered swing States. It is hard to say too much more about this map because looking at it simply tells us where Sinclair media has its hold. The propaganda is thickest in the very Christian deep South and they have the biggest problems with monopolistic right-wing media. This is their voter base and these are the regions with the biggest problems of unwanted pregnancies, drug addiction, poverty, racism, hate and deep, deep, deep social problems. The folks on the coast understand multiculturalism more, have more opportunities available to them and have less issues with human rights and freedoms. 

Forgive me if I don’t get into the minutia. I spent enough of my life listening to politics. I don’t really want to get into speeches. Needless to say, if you wish to live a life with some personal freedom where you have your choice as to who speaks to you and tells you what to think, vote blue. If you want minimum police and government intrusion into your lives, vote blue. If you want more opportunities and a life that has a more structured and reasonable infrastructure to help people through their issues, vote blue. If you are interested in people living a good life and intelligent people helping out, vote blue blue. 

And if you really believe that the Russians are not so bad, that the economics that allows the rich to get richer and you really want to live in fear everyday of your life, well, don’t vote at all because it just doesn’t matter. If all you want is fascism, why even bother voting?

By the way, if the world went vegan and got out of their cars, this whole map would go Blue. If they stopped the insanity and the hate and went green, the whole map would want nothing more than as much democracy as they could possibly put together.

Is this worth another 4 weeks of my life? Like I said, I’m thinking about it.

***

It might be a little bit late for this but I found a rather heartbreaking video made by the Ukrainian journalist of his family and life under occupation. Let’s support independent journalists everywhere. Let’s support the people that tell the truth and take the risks to do so.

***

Okay, I have a complaint. This is so stupid I can’t believe it. Perhaps it’s my mistake in buying it. I should have known better.

So I tried ordering groceries from this site that delivers. It’s standard grocery stuff but they bring it to me, the cost is not particularly different and it is the stuff that I normally get from grocery stores because I can’t get them locally.

I have no complaints about the service or anything except for one thing that I just ran into. There is a particular type of whole grain flour that is possible to buy. It is not always there in the stores. You can always find white flour everywhere but there is a little bit of a specialty to whole grain flour. You can’t always get It and when you do, if you’re like me, you tend to buy it in bulk just so you have it around.

When I went on the site to order, I found some of my usual whole grain flour which is made in Belarus by the way and tried to order it but was told that it was not in stock. There were a couple of alternatives. These did not come in one or two kilogram packages but in a half kilogram package. The price was slightly more but if you want whole grain flour, you do what you have to do.

I guess I didn’t really think about it when I got it and I just put it away in storage. Today I noticed that my glass jar of whole grain flour was getting to the bottom so I hunted around and found some of this new Russian stuff and I am so angry.

It came in a plastic container. It’s not only that they are selling it as if it is some exceptional thing worthy of a higher price. They are putting it in a plastic container.

Usually, when you buy flour it comes in a paper sack. This paper sack breathes. True, it has a tendency to break and spill. Also true, if you have mice in your pantry, they will sometimes eat through the paper to get to the flour. I’m not arguing these points and this is why I generally keep my stuff in mouse proof containers or in glass.

But the thing is that these paper bags are some of the best recycling materials in the world. If I want to buy something bulk, but grains or rice or nuts or seeds, I bring along one of these bread sacks. They are perfect containers and you can use them many times. If you have fresh mushrooms, you can store them in these paper socks because they breathe. The mushrooms will not get slimy, they will dry out a little bit but they will be edible and remain edible and you can use them in their food for a long time. And then finally, if the thing really can’t work for you anymore, it goes straight into the fireplace where it gets reduced to Ash which helps plants grow. It is a completely non-garbage product and I religiously save my flour sacks.

But now I have made this ridiculous mistake of buying this overpriced, undersized Russian economic sleaze and it comes in a container that is now completely worthless except to add bulk to the fucking landfill. It didn’t even have that beautiful polite ability to open at the top and pour out the flour without making a mess. Trying to open up the plastic created a rip straight down the side that would not allow anything to happen except to completely empty the thing and then throw the garbage away.

I have been in such a good mood and now I feel I have been completely ripped off. And what’s worse, I don’t even think they’re going to bring back the regular flour. I think this is one of these Russian strong-arm tactics where the local Belarus and stuff that I have been enjoying for years, that I have been counting on for my bread making has just been tossed aside so Russia could make some money and send even more garbage abroad. Sometimes I think this is all Russia does. They just keep giving everyone else their garbage.

Anyway, today’s bread is going to be as simple as always. The East is almost ready so I’m almost ready to bring everything together. I added some sunflower seeds to it though. It’ll have that little extra taste in it and just a touch more fat. It’s not necessary but it seemed like the thing to do at the moment.

***

Okay, let’s call this a week. And it’s been a good one.

To start with, this week has allowed me the most freedom of movement I’ve had in a long time. Going with disability has not been a matter of the spirit moving me as I first thought. It was just my natural inclination to move around and be alive. Knowing that my legs are not going to collapse underneath me or that I won’t end up in the hospital for doing something out of control has just improved my life about a million percent. Everything here is clean. Things I have been thinking about fixing for months are fixed. My house has been put in order and it feels nice being in here. This all happened this week.

My ex partner is going to Minsk next week and I might be going with her. I have two things that I could do, neither are 100% but if either comes through, it might be worth the trip up. Of course, it could end up to be nothing but a gesture for my ex partner to keep her company. Everything that I want to happen might just turn to shit from sheer lack of respect. If I sound a little black about this thought it is because I am. I am really comfortable in my life and I really don’t need to do this if there’s nothing in it for me. Not that being nice to my ex partner is a terrible thing. But if I know I’m wasting my time, I doubt I will be good company. I’m not really that strong to lie all day.

In the war, I hear things are getting weird in Kherson. The Russians are pulling back but are leaving behind absolute wreckage everywhere. They are just raping and abusing the locals there. This is pure Nazism. There is no war being fought. Not that a fair War isn’t simply an oxymoron. Maybe all of this just points out to the entire world the absolute pointlessness of war in general. I don’t know why anyone would ever vote for anyone who might someday lead them into battle. In the USA, a simple check over the last 50 years will show you who has started all the wars and who is left to clean up the mess.

Today was a beautiful day. It was a little cool and I am definitely wearing winter clothes. But the sun was out and shining and there were moments where it gave me some warmth. The temperature is going to fluctuate a little more but the winter is definitely on the way.

I need to put a couple of shelves in the warm room. I brought in a small lamp which just makes the place perfect. But I need a place to put it where it doesn’t bother other things. I’m thinking of using some of my junk wood for the frame and perhaps some natural wood for the cross piece. Maybe this is not what you call these things. I could look it up but I don’t really care. But a shelf for that light and maybe one or two things that I like to have handy would be nice.

Tanya showed up at my house a little while ago. No mushrooms. And I told her not to bother me after 2:00 but she decided to come over anyway. It was really important that she used my phone. I don’t know what you’re supposed to say in moments like this. I don’t really want drunken drama in my house. But she has been spoiling me with forest mushrooms and flirting with me for days so all I could do was open the gate and let her in. She called her husband on my phone. I could hear that he was savagely drunk and said he was near the cemetery. Whatever stories the woman has been telling have been just more drunken drama. I appreciate the mushrooms but I think I need to let that woman’s status fall back where it was. Sorry.

Other than that, it’s time to start cooking and to say a prayer or two. I think I’ve mentioned this before but the prayers are for my kids, for the food, a few thanks for life in general and for the concept of Sabbath. And then I always end with a prayer for peace.

Truthfully, the world is shit. I don’t need to decorate that thought at all. But I have a lot to be thankful for. There are a lot of beautiful things to be thankful for. And I am.