I wrote a 700-word introduction to the upcoming post. Then I deleted it. Let’s try again:
Today is the 76th day in the newest year of the serial freak out. Our baseline panic evolved so gradually I can’t pinpoint the date of its inception. It simply is. I once lived with long periods of “nothing new” punctuated by occasional crescendos of “holy shit”. Now I live among, but not of, a society in a constant bout of hyperventilation.
Recent events; the third or ninth or eleventh “end of the world” in the young year, have made us forget the year’s other moments. The ones that failed to engender panic. This one is certainly well fitted. It seems as good an event as any to flesh out “chapter one in the story of how it all burned down”. I’m not overly worried. I’m taking prudent precautions, as I always do. Beyond that, the sky is blue and the sun rises in the east.
Personally, I think we’re seeing monkeys with mildly elevated minds failing to handle a new technology. The herd instinct gets out of control when jacked into the global hive mind. The propaganda treadmill built to agitate us is now self-perpetuating. Who’s at the wheel? Nobody.
But what do I know? If, by August, this hasn’t been replaced by some new and improved reason we’re all doomed, you may mock my complacency.
My problem is scale. I see at the wrong scale. I’m in the 39th day of a universe where my dog died in my arms. That’s the scale of real life. I wish everyone all over the planet well but I don’t know them personally. Clutching a dead dog in a snowy driveway, that’s real… and it took away my will to fret over toilet paper supplies at some Walmart in Tuscaloosa.
Miracles happen on small scales too. I was motivated (perhaps dragged kicking and screaming by a reawaking soul), to write about the smallest event of four decades ago. Because small events matter. That story will follow shortly.
+1
We should really have a better idea of what’s really happening by the summer. Until then? I have time…
I am sorry for your loss and I am looking forward to hearing about your small event 40 years ago!
I printed up some plans for a puddleduck racer, this may be the time as our Governor, the President and my wife think I should just hang out around the house for awhile for some reason.
I cannot say enough good things about building a Puddle Duck Racer. An accomplishment of pure fun.
I had an absolutely huge amount of fun building it (including a certain amount of drama and confusion as I leveled up my pathetic carpentry skills). In terms of fun per dollar spent, building a PDR is off the charts. (Full disclosure, I spent more on my build than absolutely necessary. I consider it money well spent.)
Also, sailing it has been just as much fun as building it. (I didn’t know how to sail at the start of my boatbuilding experiment.) Despite starting life as a basic plywood box, the design handles more than you’d expect for such a simple craft. It’s not a blue water yacht but it punches above its weight class.
Good luck and if you build please keep me posted. Maybe I’ll have some boat posts myself if summer ever comes.
A.C.
P.S. Don’t overlook the larger but near identical Oz Goose. If I knew then what I know now I’d have gone for the bigger craft. No regrets though, the little craft was a good place to start.
Good. I’ll be reading it when you post.
“I’m in the 39th day of a universe…”
Damn, AC, that sentence got me. Keep taking care of yourself, please. As I understand it, us hairless apes and dogs essentially co-evolved, sharing hormonal pathways ‘n stuff. It’s no wonder dog posts generate so many comments. Hang in there. Oh, and tell the boss that you have “symptoms” and you might get to work from home- it’s one way to get a sorta vacation without the hassle of planning stuff.
Prolonged hyperventilation leads to alkalosis, which is bad, possibly deadly. I’m not sure how that would present in the body politic, but I’m sure it won’t be pretty.
The Real Kurt
Not only is your personal tragedy more important than the lates Stupid Panic, so is your most recent mosquito bite.
This is just one more desperate and not to clever attempt to forestall the Voting Public telling the Progressive Left, “No, seriously, Yuck Fou. F*ck off, F*ck directly off. Do not pass,go, do not collect $200.” in November.