Learning to be a whore.

Somewhere in the cluttered attic of my memory, there lay shreds of a an interview I once heard. I believe it was NPR, in the late 90's or early 00's, but I can't say for certain. Unimportant now, I suppose.

The interview was with a couple gentl..pardon. Was with a couple of men. One of them, desiring the status of 'pimp' in his community, had undertaken to start this life by selling his girlfriend.

He described the process:

First, he mentioned a friend of his, who had just broken up with his own girlfriend. Said man was very downhearted, and so perhaps she could cheer him up? Maybe visit? One little request follows another, bit by bit... until the young woman has spent the evening with said "friend."

Not surprisingly, next morning she feels somewhat confused and guilty over the affair.

... as was intended.

But no, it's no problem, says our beginning pimp - you helped him. Heck, maybe you could do it again? Some time later, perhaps the same request for another friend. It's no problem. You're free he says.....even though I might occasionally, in seeming play, tease you about what a slut you are.

Day follows day and week follows week, and our young lady looks around to discover she is no longer a sweetheart, but a possession to be passed around. And in time, sold.

It was a sad story, and one that enraged me even in my poly days. Even then, whatever my thoughts and wisdom on when one spreads her legs for who, the steady and deliberate breaking of a soul was sickening.

But I will confess, I didn't think much more on it at the time. One horrid story from a world of horrid stories. That was where it ended.


Discussions at Paul's and Travis's places brought that tale to mind from again, and now the more I read of our Founder's world, the more familiar it feels.

I feel degraded... when I compare what the people of the Founding era were taught to think about themselves, well... the comparison is sickening.

I present to you then, one of your pimps.


(relevant bit starts at 4:23)

Yes, he's just a comedian. Big deal. Having a controversial opinion and being brash about it is part of his job.

But it is a big deal. Read some of those comments. No - read the vast majority of the comments on that video over at youTube.

Looking at all that happened from the 18th c. to now, I can't help but trace the root of all that smug nihilistic despair to one thing ... the conception of what a human being is.

Even if I don't have a problem with the Origin of Species claim of differentiation through natural selection itself - and frankly, I don't* - I do think the fundamentalists of this country who do are pointing to a very real cultural ill.

Animals humping anonymously in the mud aren't showing love. Random collections of neurons firing cannot show virtue, dignity, or nobility of spirit.

Without a soul, without that spark that makes a human being a human being - endowed by their Creator with not just liberties, but a self.. what are we but transitory collections of appetites? Of what use is liberty for an animal that can neither appreciate nor be expected to learn to manage it?

I can no longer look at the degradation of liberty I see in these documents as anything but a symptom. It's not just a government out of control.

It's a government out of control, led by people of generally good will in both parties, because of a popular conception - all too often validated - that we must be controlled.

Far worse than a single failed government - and of far more lasting consequence - is the degradation of the very concept of the individual.

I am coming to think that if we are ever to be truly free again, we must first earn it. Not through petitions, and not through arms - and definitely not through some mandated feel good "national service" program. But rather, through first embracing what it is that makes us us. To renew our confidence in both self and civilization, laid in the bedrock of knowing that whatever our flaws, whatever our insecurities, we can surely say we have done our utmost to lay in our hearts the firm foundation of having done our utmost to better ourselves and bear up one another.


So that without guilt, without doubt, without some niggling what if it doesn't work, or what if we don't deserve this? in the back our mind, we can say...

We hold these truths to be self evident. That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it ...





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* To be honest, I don't really care about the how so much as the why. And when the answer is there is no why - the resulting conception of humanity trends less towards one of human dignity than one of livestock.

Friends and fun..

Oh, today was the most wonderful restful day!

Started out my grabbing Miss D at her hosts' place, and playing with the most pretty-pretty Shelty Sheltie you ever did meet. Then off to go buy airplane parts for her project, and listen to neat stories.


After that, downtown..

We started at the most amazing antique store.

As a measure of its awesomeness, here....

... I got to play with a real live Hall breechloading rifle.

Not see behind museum glass, not see some specialist in white gloves demonstrate.. but pick up and handle and everything (the offset front sight would take some getting used to, but I guess they did). Right beside it.. well, besides the Brown Bess, was a '59 Sharps Cavalry carbine. Along the walls were scads of 18th and 19th c. longarms... the one lone M1 carbine seemed very much a baby and out of place .

Buffalo heads, native artwork, old German hunting club felt hats.. a very nice statue of General Lee stuffed in a corner. Oh.. and the books. The books, wow. And oh look, here's a child's embroidered coat just lying out, would you look at that stitching? And the beadwork and beaded shirts from the western native tribes... wow. It was like visiting your eccentric uncle's attic... if your eccentric uncle was a history buff who'd been collecting neat gewgaws his entire life.

I swear.. I have not seen that much history packed into that small a space since...well.....
.. since visiting Tam's house, actually. :)

From there... chocolate!

There's a neat little hipster place just down the street Miss D had heard about, so we went to have drinking chocolate.

oh.

oh my.

it was.. it was good. :)


Then - off to Flat Top! There's a mountain not far from town that's just a nice local hike. It was the most amazing clear blue day. (And let me tell you, "clear blue day" does not mean the same thing in Alaska. The blue is...well... "bluer." It's hard to explain, and you cease to notice it if you've been here a while, but the sky really is more vibrant here.

The walk left us breathless at times, and the top part really was a scramble in places, but I'm very proud that both my asthma and Miss D's busted up knee were both sufficiently under control that it was nothing but a good trip up and back. Very fun, and a nice good tired.


After the hike, dinner at a Place Which Shall Remain Nameless*, finished up as takeout in the hangar** over the most wonderful tea and better conversation. That second wing is really coming along fast... I fear we'll lose Miss D quite soon.

But at least the 48 will be the richer for us losing her. As will a certain gentleman. :)



So yeah... awesome incredible very good day. And since I think the bath is probably cooled off to just barely scalding now.... g'night all.









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* Performance tip -
When you're in a town that owes a great part of its size to a half-century of military stationing... when that town is still host to an army base and air force base, and is absolutely full of young soldiers and airmen preparing to leave to or are recently returned from active combat duty.... it's probably not a good idea to sing a song about how American soldiers are just brutish thugs who don't know what the hell they're doing. Hard to believe I know, but you just *might* piss off part of your audience.

Oh, and learning to play more than a single chord over and over again during half your songs would help to.



** see, I can spell it right now. :)

punchbuggy, no punchbacks!

The whole notion of elections has been swimming in my head lately - partly based on our own fiasco up here of late, partly seeing a right-leaning individual down in the 48 talking about "fighting fire with fire" re: ballot fraud, and partly Travis's comment today about the ballot box "being an weapon of violence."

Maybe because it's because I'm getting more cranky and lawful as I continue to grow up*, but I think I have to disagree somewhat. Pardon if what follows sounds banal... some of us didn't get particularly good Civics and American Gov't classes, and are having to puzzle it out on our own years after the fact.

So. Elections.

I think rather, that elections are a substitute for open warfare.

We are a free people, and since the days of the first colonies have always been a diverse people. From rigid Puritans to utopian Quakers, from refined English planters to half-savage Ulster Scots, we were never of a single mind in this land.

We don't - and won't- ever think alike and want the same things from and for our country. But our country can only go one way, and those decisions bind all of us.

And so... we cast ballots so we don't have to shoot each other in the streets. Yes, elections have consequences. Yes, it sucks to be on the wrong side of a sweep. But it doesn't suck as much as having a Sherman "forage" through your farm on the way to your nominal faction head's capitol.

As such, elections only serve their purpose so long as everyone can agree they're fair. When you "find" a box of uncounted ballots, when you throw lawyers at a close race, when you *ahem* ignore the results of a primary - you are, to borrow from the master, "throw[ing] sand into machinery that does not work too well at best."

And keep throwing enough sand, and eventually the thing will grind to a halt. What happens when nobody trusts the elections? What happens when the greater part of a freeborn people comes to believe that no matter what they do at the ballot box, it doesn't matter, because someone has already decided what the outcome is going to be?

Well - one of two things.

The flame of liberty dies and we all either get in line or tune in, turn on, and drop out.... or the liberty tree gets some watering again. Ain't neither of those are things I want to see.

Now... I *don't* think that's happening now. But I think the sense of grievance for half the population had been smoldering since 2000 on this, and only our present President's election has cooled that fire, whatever its other effects. Now over the next two years we get to see what happens on the other side of the isle.

I'll just say this much. I think that the line from elections to open civil warfare is not a continuum, it is a state change. After that line of open hostility is crossed - yes, deception, guile, all manner of low down dirty deeds become the order of the day. Prior to crossing that line, you do everything possible to avoid doing so. And that includes being as squeaky-clean, transparent, and willing to abide by unpleasant results as necessary, to preserve the integrity of the process.



Two final observations.

One. Some things are not up for negotiation. Some things can not be abrogated by popular demand. Best advice I ever heard on that front..draw your line in the sand now. Know now, in times of calm, precisely where it is, and why, because if that time comes, the passion of the age will confuse your reason.

Two. As Paul notes, Washington was convinced a year before the declaration that separation from our British brethren would become necessary. Adams, as I recall was of the same opinion, long before it became popular. And yet there was a year of humble entreaties and petitions to reach peace. Again, and again, and again.

And that was as it should be, for posterity does judge us not only by our ends, not only by our means, but also for our forbearance, and our honest, sincere work for a peaceable resolution. If the kettle does boil over one day, let it not be said that all the pain and suffering and tears and misery that flowed from it could have been avoided, had not we been a bit more reasonable.





















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* I sure hope they don't yank my bard class for that. Maybe if I leave the dishes in the sink a while longer or plan yet another move I can keep my "chaotic" points... :)

Nursery of the Spirit

In getting ready to meet friend Paul ("History Buddy?" :) ) for planning out the reading sessions for the next couple weeks*, I was pawing through my cluttered bookshelf looking for a little pamphlet I purchased in Williamsburg. It is a copy of a letter Mr. Jefferson wrote, in which he is advising a young man on what a young gentleman should familiarize himself with, so as to consider himself reasonably well read**. I was trying to find one quote the editors had reprinted (albeit from a different letter), the gist of which has stuck with me since -

1818 Mch. 14. "A great obstacle to good education is the inordinate passion prevalent for novels, and the time lost in that reading which should be instructively employed. When this poison infects the mind, it destroys its tone and revolts it against wholesome reading....This mass of trash, however, is not without some distinction; some few modeling their narratives, although fictitious, on the incidents of real life, have been able to make them interesting and useful vehicles of sound morality....For a like reason, too, much poetry should not be indulged. Some is useful for forming style and taste. Pope, Dryden, Thompson, Shakespeare, and of the French, Molière, Racine, the Corneilles, may be read with pleasure and improvement." (TJ to Nathaniel Burwell, Writings, p. 1411-12)
Source

It's with that in mind I want to talk about my first serious silver screen crush. 'Cause if Jefferson were my age, novels would be called television. :)

So. The guy.

Oh, he was a handsome man, I admit. Standing on that ragged moor, clad in plaid and shirt, hair in the wind, Liam Neeson played a man to take your breath away. But that wasn't why I fell for him.

It was his heart.

Was the character much like the real Rob Roy McGregor? Probably not much. Didn't matter. What mattered was - as Jefferson stated - that the character modeled a way of thinking that ever after lodged in my brain as this is what a Good Man is like.

The whole of the film revolves around a man and his honour, and what that means, but while his "exposition scene" gets the most quotage, I think it's his wife explaining him that made me all weepy once upon a time -

It was not done for Your Grace, but for his own honour, which he holds dearer than myself or his sons, his clan or kin, and for which I have oft chided him. But it is him and his way, and were he other, he would not be Robert Roy McGregor.

.. This is what a good man is, came the lesson into my heart. More.. this is how to treat a good man. Encourage the best in him. Know there are things better and more important than the both of you, and when to say...

"okay. Go. I understand. Whether I like it or not, I understand."***

And yes, be mindful of one's own heart and actions, though that's a lesson I've been most slow to learn, and quite imperfectly. Still, we hold up sterling fictional examples not I think from wishful thinking that we can actually meet that example, or rank hypocrisy, but rather as a guidepost.

Head this way. You're mortal. You'll fall, you'll trip. You won't measure up. But head this way.


You know, originally this was going to be a political point.. and now I find I don't even want to talk about the issue it was addressed to. It's not worth it. It's needlessly divisive. Examples are hard to live up to. But I guess I can do it today.

Happy Saturday, all. :)















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*Oh - and our homework is the first 14 essays from the Federalist Papers, and the like from the Anti-Federalists. One of each a day for two weeks. Feel free to follow along. :)

** It's here, by the way.

*** 2010 is not 1715. Now the gals are riding in Strykers to, and the balance from Dulce et Decorum est to spineless cynicism has been in wild flux for almost a century, at least. But the task off bearing one another up, of happily encouraging one another to be our own highest selves - both within a covenant and even in simple friendship - remains as always.

When the job goes wrong...

"...you go back to the beginning. "

Alaskan friend Paul and I have started finally getting more serious about this whole Founder thing. It's long past time, I think.

I mean, we've all had the survey-level stuff in school. The broad strokes of Enlightenment this and Magna Carta that and Tea and Stamps and whatallelse. But what with all the attention on the Founding era of late.. it's just not enough.

Not when so much of the political rhetoric of the day is pointing to our Founders. Not when half my friends are waving the Gadsden and half - some very literate - disgusted with the "tea baggers."

So back to the books. We've been talking about a "primary sources" book club of sorts.. the writings of some of the Founders themselves, and what they were reading. As much as I can, I want to try to get inside their head, into the zeitgeist of the time, so I can know when someone putting on the blue and buff is doing it for show, and when they've really done their own homework.

Which means I gotta do mine. Whuff.

Okay, so downing a hundred volumes in Latin and Greek in a summer or ten ain't going to happen, but I think we can make a decent dent in the big ones over time. Some of the list we've tossed about publicly already. The rest of the initial roadmap I think we'll be ironing out this weekend, and hopefully finding some others to join us.


Anyhow, since Paul's been gracious enough to start with Paine, here's a couple neat little snippets from the crinkly-papered version of Washington's Inaugral Address I picked up at lunch the other day -

On the one hand, I was summoned by my country, whose voice I can never hear but with veneration and love, from a retreat which I had chosen with the fondest predilection, and, in my flattering hopes, with an immutable decision, as the asylum of my declining years—a retreat which was rendered every day more necessary as well as more dear to me by the addition of habit to inclination, and of frequent interruptions in my health to the gradual waste committed on it by time. On the other hand, the magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest and most experienced of her citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondence one who (inheriting inferior endowments from nature and unpracticed in the duties of civil administration) ought to be peculiarly conscious of his own deficiencies.

I confess, my first reaction was snort of disgust at the current situation, thinking "not exactly 'this was the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and our planet began to heal' was it?" - but in fairness, I rather suspect our current occupant of the White House had more than his share of sleepless nights thinking what the @#$#@ did I get myself into??! between Nov 2008 and Jan 2009, and Mr. Washington as I recall had something of a reputation for being prickly about his honor and deference due him.

(On the other hand, if anyone in the country had earned a right to be a little snooty by that point, Mr. Washington would qualify.)

Anyhow, moving on...

Such being the impressions under which I have, in obedience to the public summons, repaired to the present station, it would be peculiarly improper to omit in this first official act my fervent supplications to that Almighty Being who rules over the universe, who presides in the councils of nations, and whose providential aids can supply every human defect, that His benediction may consecrate to the liberties and happiness of the people of the United States a Government instituted by themselves for these essential purposes, and may enable every instrument employed in its administration to execute with success the functions allotted to his charge. In tendering this homage to the Great Author of every public and private good, I assure myself that it expresses your sentiments not less than my own, nor those of my fellow-citizens at large less than either. No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the Invisible Hand which conducts the affairs of men more than those of the United States. Every step by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency; and in the important revolution just accomplished in the system of their united government the tranquil deliberations and voluntary consent of so many distinct communities from which the event has resulted can not be compared with the means by which most governments have been established without some return of pious gratitude, along with an humble anticipation of the future blessings which the past seem to presage.

Now, I am just barely of an age when I can remember my textbooks using "BC" and "AD," some of the old-fashioned grown-up books I saw talking about "mankind" and "man," and trying to puzzle out long strings of Roman numerals on movie credits before they scrolled off the top. But I think even then, while it was still a not uncommon popular notion I think, in my textbooks there wasn't much space given to the sense that so many things had gone astonishingly, amazingly right against all odds during the Revolution that Providence simply had to have had a hand in it.

I was never quite certain when that notion had taken hold, but it's interesting to see it voiced so early.


Lest I give the impression I think the whole of the generation was swept up in a religious fervor, all pious and such, let me say one of the things I think Mr. Gibson's The Patriot movie got right was the tension of cultures. They took a lot of liberties with history, certainly... but the act where father and son each go recruiting is I think my favorite. Yes, you had your bright clean youth all up in a Patriot's fervor. Yes you had your snaggletoothed backwoodsmen just sick to death with authority period, and perfectly eager for a good excuse to stick a knife in a crown soldier instead of a native warrior. Slaves on both sides looking for a way out of bondage through fire. Not pictured were the Dissenters trying to shake off the yoke of the State Church, nor the mercantile interests just sick of trade restrictions, but they were there to.

.. but for all them - some with no love lost between them - a common enemy was a common enemy. Time enough for the Revolution to eat its own after the war.


And yet... we didn't. Oh, there was the Whiskey Rebellion. Some other flareups here and there. But nothing like France. Nothing like the purges after Communist revolutions, even accounting for Tories bullied out of their neighborhoods, and even all the way into Canada. It was not perfect, it was not clean, it was not entirely humane. But it wasn't butchery either.

We were different.

The Revolution was different because it succeeded, when countless peasant revolts for centuries -if not millennia - had failed. It was different because despite precedent, prediction, and common wisdom -- it did not end with a Cromwell, a Napoleon, a Stalin or Mao... we had instead a Cincinnatus. And it was different for how little bloodshed resulted in the aftermath of consolidation.

And that's why it's so important to see what those men were thinking, I believe.


Because we're gonna need 'em.

To all the gunchicks in my life....

Tonight I just finished The Frontier Rifleman, by Richard LaCrosse, Jr.
It's a compilation of Revolutionary War engagements, pictures of what they carried and how it was made, so forth and so on - but the better part of it is snippets from every primary source he could find on the riflemen of early America, mostly 1750's-1820 or so.


There is one quote in this passage I think will give everyone in the gunny community a giggle of recognition, but the ladies in particular should appreciate the earlier bit -

The inhabitants of the Ohio country in general have very little of that unmeaning politeness, which we so much praise and admire in the Atlantic States. They are as yet the mere children of nature*, and neither their virtues nor their vices are calculated to please refined tastes. They are brave, generous, and humane, and, in proportion to the population, are able to produce the most effective military force of any in our country.

This preeminence may chiefly be attributed to their exposed situation in an Indian frontier, where they were not only kept in constant danger and alarm, but even found it necessary to teach their sons and daughters, as soon as they were big enough to raise a gun, to load and level the rifle. On more than one occasion have I seen these Spartan females, while engaged at the spinning wheel**, or in some other domestic occupation, snatch up the loaded rifle, and fell the bounding deer as he incautiously passed within shot of the cabin. But since peace has been established with the Indians, (most of whom have removed to a greater distance from the whites,) the rifle has become the target of honuor among these hardy Americans, and a Kentuckian would scorn to shoot a squirrel, or even a swallow, unless with a rifle; in the choice of which they are even more particular than in selecting a wife. There are a number of manufactories established in this country, but the best and handsomest I have seen are to be procured in Kentucky and Tennessee, where they are made of every size from twenty balls (.61 caliber) to the pound up to one hundred (.36 caliber), and the price from fifteen to a hundred dollars."

Christian Schultz, Travels on an Inland Voyage, 1810



Book highly recommended. Quick, easy read with lots of first-person accounts from thems that actually saw us in our early days.











* Tell me this man isn't in love with Rousseau. I don't doubt he saw what he saw, but it's prolly wise to take his observations on the character of the people he met with a bit of salt. :)

** reading between the lines, I do believe we've just seen proof of sittin' chairs on the front porch. I feel so delighfully redneckily at home. :)

Out and about.

As the good Reverend noted, we went to play at the range this morning. Range rules were odd, and frankly over the top I think (separate ranges for .22 and centerfire? Can't bring a .22 rifle on a pistol range? Only load ten rounds in a magazine? ) ... Wet Bunny didn't strike me as the most welcoming range I've ever visited, but it's their place I guess, and the company made up for it.

It had been... a year almost I think? Last time I was at a range was I think when Peter came up to visit Miss D, so I guess so. Jeepers. Still, didn't embarrass myself too awful much, and grampa's .22 is very forgiving. :)

Honestly though, it's the people watching/chatting that's the most fun at ranges I think. The pistol line was a hoot.. in our little corner, with a couple exceptions, almost all VietNam era guys, prolly ex military, with various flavors of trick 1911s and the occasional Glock. Walking out, the rifle line was odd - not a black rifle to be seen, which I don't think I've seen in ages. Then again, it's just about hunting season, so I s'pose that makes sense. Busy place.

Chatting over coffee was all kinds of fun. I like Rev's idea of the occasional get together. Honestly, though it's not something we discussed, I'd love to do a "history book club" sort of thing for a while, especially if we get to do the Founding era. It's one thing to read for fun - another entirely to get your interpretations challenged. Lord knows the fine print has caught me enough before.

Whaddya say Rev? Sound interesting? Or wanna just do coffee klatches? :)


Let's see... what else? Yes, toying with the idea - eventually - of seeing if I can afford to play with a flintlock, just to get a sense for what they were dealing with once upon a time. I've had the occasional "here, try this!" from friends, but never had a chance to get really familiar with the darn things.


The rest of the day was.. mostly.. uneventful, but the cookout would have gone better if my neighbor hadn't seen the smoke and called the fire department. Oh well. No harm done other than a (hopefully) amused firefighter, a new friend sent home with stew, and a shortened evening. Needed to write more anyhow.

*sigh*

G'night all. Happy weekend.
Deeper musings some other time. For now, here's a picture of a cow with a potato under its butt.

(Incidentally.. lessons learned:
1. I am missing something with charcloth. Whatever I make just don't take a spark. Maybe I'm letting it set too long in the fire?

2. The local fire department guys are handsome and all, and good humoured, but might be a good idea to call the project off for a while so as not to see them too often a professional-type basis. Even when you're being obsessively careful, when other people don't know you're being obsessively careful, you sometimes have irritating results. Which come to think of it, we experienced at the range to. See above. *sigh*

3. The longer firepit works well. So does a bit of a depression under the pot. The legs work GREAT to let you keep feeding little bits of wood underneath to keep the coals going for a nice slow stew. I still need to work on the whole "temperature management" part of cooking on a fire.

4. A single pot stew works fairly well in a cauldron - brown the meat alone first, then let it sit on top of the potatoes and onions while they bubble in the water. For a while at least, the meat juices seep down into the taters, but it basically steams rather than getting that nice browned surface gushy. Going to have to experiment with that some more on the timing. um.. someday. somewhere. :)

Bubble bubble, reprise.

Well, the Big Project is done, and the first bit of "try and get work life back in order" is as well now. Paperwork's caught up, calls returned - all is good in the land of bits and bytes and adult responsibilities.

So- what better way to start my first actual weekend since getting back two weeks ago than dragging out the iron again? (I'm trying to make this a weekly thing, at least until the snow flies. I want to get to the point fire cooking - eventually hearth cooking - feels normal.)

Anyhow, tonight's lessons learned:

* I need to actually plan and dig out an intelligent firepit. The circle really isn't cutting it - not enough room to work, and it encourages me to build a fire that's a pain to cook on - all log and not enough low fire and coals.

* insufficiently charred charcloth doesn't catch sparks for beans. Just 'cause it looks black doesn't mean it's done.

* at some point I need a tripod to catch the early heat of the fire and not wait wait wait... and a dutch oven - or at least a bean pot - for the cornbread. Even easy cornbread* is a pain in the tuckuss in a skillet over a crowded fire.







But.. it all came out okay this time around. The menu?
Cornbread, collard greens cooked up with salt pork and onions, and country ham. That's right, when my father saw how much I missed the stuff he mailed me a box of it.

I love my daddy. :)

Anyhow.. nice downhome and simple I can usually manage, served with a small mason jar of buttermilk.



Noms. :)

After dinner, I was fiddling around by the remains of the fire, and was surprised to hear an ovation over the fence. Had a nice little conversation with this sweet gentleman passing by.

Packed it in for the night, cleaned up the iron, and rubbed it down while hot from the cleaning with a piece of porkfat to keep the seasoning going.

If I were still in my dissolute twenties, I'd probably say something like "yep.. cast iron's just like a feller. If you want to keep it around, all happy and healthy - be sure to give it a nice warm glow before putting it away for the night." These days, of course, I'd never dream of saying such a thing in public. :)



'night all. Happy weekend.
To those of you I owe an email.. you'll prolly actually see it soon.


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* easy cornbread: so easy I can remember the recipie.
Beat an egg into a cup of buttermilk. Stir a teaspoon-ish of salt and a teaspoon-ish of baking powder into a cup of cornmeal (actually, I prefer the course-ground yellow grits). Mix one and two. Make hot until it stops being runny.

See, easy? Even I have to work to screw it up. :)

Mea Culpa, old white guys

* correction, brain fade. I'd had Virginia and Patrick Henry on the brain so much I misattributed Paine's Common Sense to Henry. D'oh! One of those "knew it, but still screwed it up" mistakes. Bother.

But really, this is why I cross-connected there ... reading the whole of Common Sense instead of the excerpts I got in high school, well.. it reads more like a sermon than a political pamphlet. It does sound like Whitfield - half the argument is based in the book of Judges, rather than footnoted to contemporary Enlightenment philosophers. The language is that of a preacher, not a philosopher. Nor is it vague Deism/Agnosticism. It's straight-out, from the Bible preaching, of a decidedly Evangelical feel.

And yet this is the same man - Paine - that is claimed to be both Deist or atheist, depending on who you ask. Certainly people can change through life.. I know I have. The Paine of the 1790's could certainly not be the Paine of 1776. It's been ages since reading Rights of Man, so it's prolly nearing time to go back through that, with the question in mind.

First though.. well, after working through the existing pile - Jefferson. Same question.

Specifically, the twilight years letters of Jefferson and Adams. There was a complete copy at Monticello's gift shop, but by that time the purse was getting light and I knew I could order a copy later.

One interesting story from touring the house though - there are a number of paintings on display from Biblical scenes (one of them, ominously I think given his early support of the Jacobins in France, of the head of John on a platter) . This prompted one member of the tour group to ask "wasn't he an atheist?" to which our guide replied that he took a great deal of interest in the subject of religion, whatever his beliefs were.

... I'm sick of taking one person's word or another for it. About time - again - to find out first hand (sort of).

Anyhow.. back to work. Happy sunshine, Anchorageites! Ain't it great? :)