LD's Resume of Doom

Thanks to the Diner's newest member, Redreamer, for this beautiful fox picture...it's my understanding she captured it with her camera

I've been tasked by a fellow Diner over at the Doomstead Diner forum to come up with a Doom Resume. The idea is to write up a convincing synopsis of why your sorry ass is worth using resources to integrate you into a community post-collpse. Say for whatever reason you are dislocated from your current abode...be it a pointless waste of space that will blow away as soon as chaos happens, or a life boat intentionally designed to weather bad societal shit..like the Just In Time (JIT) trucking that our suburban America requires for things like...food...shutting down. Imagine, and this is my favorite doom scenario due to it's complex richness, that the tractor trailers that keep our current civilization going stop pulling 80,000 pound loads down the interstate system of these failed states of America (FSoA), for even just a couple of weeks due to say 7 dpg diesel. "Experts," whatever the hell that means, say that we have a three day supply of food in the box stores across America...the Walmarts, and Ralphs, and BiLos, and Buy N Larges that house all of the Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation turds of prepackaged, sterilized, devoid of all nutrition, toxin rich, plastic, bad imitations of eddibility, "food." All those shelves will be empty of anything vaguely edible within 24 hours of the official kick off of Zombie panic. Thus has writing a Doom Resume become a worth while endeavor for all of us Post-Petroleum humans to write, and spread into the doomosphere. This is my Resume of Doom.

My worth, in terms of skill sets, started at round 14 years old for me. That's the year I dove head first into the world of Army JROTC. My fourth year I was XO of the battalion, which made me 2nd in command...that means my senior year every cadet except one, the battalion Commander (who has been flying Black Hawks for the last ten years or so) had to salute me. I was best Recon three years in a row and Recon Commander my fourth year. Now, all of this means that I learned, as well as taught, useful skills like orienteering, mountaineering, marksmanship, knot tying, repelling, map reading, and general wilderness survival. But most importantly I learned how to lead men and women, and do it well.

My next set of skills, that were acquired during those same years, had as much a spiritual dimension as practical physical one. I trained in Nihon Goshin Aikido for four years. This is a Japanese style martial art that was created for sword fighting...in the days of the Samuri. Steven Seagal is trained in Hombu Aikido, which is only different because their circles are much wider, whereas Nihon Goshin is tighter and closer to the body. This is a system of self defense that revolves around pressure points, joint locks, and throws, and puts a heavy emphasis on learning human anatomy so that you can know what nerve you are activating...or what tendon, ligament, or bone you might intentionally break pending the offender decides it for himself. I rose to Ni Kyu, or "student instructor," which is a purple belt. I had all 50 techniques in the art when I quit due to moving cross country. When I quit I was working on weapons training...things like how to take a gun or knife away from somebody who is trying to shoot/stab you. Now, at 33, I can still do a running ninja roll over a chain link fence...granted those days are numbered I'm sure. However, I learned this skill set by burning into my muscle memory while my muscles were still developing during early teenage years.

At 18 I began seriously questioning Christianity and religion in general. I became an atheist and basically started over for myself. I arrived at home in Buddhism. Then I moved on to other things like Druidry. Point is I have a spiritual background that is based on empirical experience and not solely on shit other people have written or said. Examples of this experience are a full blow out of body experience, Astral Travel, and years of lucid dreaming. However I remain humble in knowing that there are others more spiritually advanced than I whom I can learn from. To me, humility and equanimity are two of the most important spiritual endeavors where other people, and how you treat them, are concerned. I think this makes me well balanced where morals and ethics are concerned. It also makes me flexible and tolerant of others spiritual views.

Next I suppose would be the USN where every recruit is trained in the art of fighting fire. I was broken down as an individual and reborn into a collective identity in boot camp despite my best efforts to not allow this process to happen. After boot camp I trained at Naval Nuclear Power Training Command to be a nuclear engineer of the mechanic persuasion. After NNPTC came Prototype in Saratoga Springs NY. Then I was stationed in Bremerton Washington and shortly deployed to the Persian Gulf where I was when 9/11 happened. First bombs dropped came off of my boat...the U.S.S. Carl Vinson CVN-70. First chance I got, upon returning to the continental U.S., I went UA (unauthorized absence) as well as "missing ship's movement" as the ship left from San Diego to Bremerton without me. I learned a lot in the Navy...too much to cover in this synopsis...you can start with 115 days at sea without seeing land...all while working 7 days a week. Four hours of sleep was a luxury...use your imagination.

After the Navy I went to a bartending academy in Seattle Washington and began a career as a professional drunk. I also had a short period of time spinning records in the Seattle rave scene. During this period I moved back to Upstate SC and have remained here ever since...that was 2002. I supported myself by waiting tables and tending bar for about 4 years. During the last year I ran a mom and pop hole in the wall bar for ruffians and all manner of Southern drunk rednecks. I was a general manager as well as head short order cook, bartender, and ass kicker (although due to my training, I never had to put any drunk dirt necks in the hospital). I was able to persuade drunk rednecks, hillbillies, dirt necks, and the occasional out of place gang banger, without violence, to do what I said....the confidence that Aikido gave me assisted in that skill). But when I'm applying point pressure to your mastoid sinus you tend to do what I say to stop the excruciating pain...nevermind if I grab your hyoid bone.

I put an end to the alcohol/drug abuse, nomadic, anglo saxon, reckless, living for the now, ready to burn up in a blaze of spontaneous combustion glory, lifestyle at the behest of my now wife, then girlfriend GM (gypsy mama of Diner fame)...and began the skills of learning how to be domesticated in the Matrix. This prompted my next skill set, which I began before I gave up that reckless lifestyle, the skills involved in being a medic. For 2 years I worked in convalescent transport "granny snatchin" at the most unholy, lotion and doodoo scented, depressing cesspools of human misery known as nursing homes, before I got into EMS. For six years I worked for a county EMS agency as an EMT-intermediate dealing with all manner of human tragedy, gore, insanity, dead newborns, dismembered and dead loved ones, and body decompositions. I was a professional in dealing with the shit you can't deal with. Why else do people call 911...at least the responsible ones...which granted are in short number these days. I learned a lot about not only the human spirit, mind, and body in this profession...I also learned how to spot knuckleheaded Zombies due to their scent alone. If you are a Zombie I can smell you...thank you EMS.

During the years of EMS I became Peak Oil aware after reading The Long Emergency by James Howard Kunstler in 2007. I had about 3 years of solitary dealings with this information before my wife started finally taking notice around 2011. I've been PO aware for six years now. At about year three, I finally made it through all of the states of grief and decided it would be a good idea to procreate. I have two children now. Ayden Zen who will be three in less than a month, and Harper Tribann who is two weeks old today. Thus I have learned (or rather am learning) how to be a good and responsible parent. The goal being to facilitate children who will grow into adults with the ability to thrive in The Long Descent, or Long Emergency, or whatever you want to label the clusterfuck we are currently experiencing the opening acts to.

While I was working as a medic my Southern-as-they-come Paramedic partner taught me how to deer hunt. This resulted in me killing two deer in my second full season of hunting. My first season I didn't kill shit because my hillbilly partner decided I had to deer hunt for the first time with his bird gun (a 12 gauge with a fuckin' bead on the end of it...all season...good luck to me). There I was, in a little ass oak tree bout 8 inches around in a ladder stand 12 feet off the ground, swaying in the wind, with two 100 pound does 100 yards out in plain site. I was standing...did I mention I was literally swaying in the wind, and I was applying pressure to the trigger gettin' ready to lob lead at a deer for the first time. This was arguably an irresponsible shot, which aside from the swaying, had me wondering. Just before the gun went off they caught my scent and run oft. The second season I euthanized Bambi twice and consequently field dressed (under the direction of my partner), threw the deer in the bed of my truck and then skinned, quartered, and butchered both deer on my own at home. You should have seen me in the woods behind my house, buck hangin' from his hind legs and me trying to de-glove the whole body. I used a reciprocating saw to remove the head. This is the reality of eating meat...I know it intimately.

I began gardening organically right out of the gates in 2007. It was the first skill I decided to learn after reading about Peak Oil and the global clusterfuck that is the Trifecta of doom (climate change, global economic breakdown, and Peak Oil). I'm in my sixth year of gardening now, however that would be the second year of Permaculture. In 2012, right after resigning from my lucrative position as an EMT in the state of SC (29,000 dollars was what I grossed my last full year which was 2011), I began permaculture training in Asheville NC. I trained in a new program called "Permaculture in Action" which resulted in a certificate of completion. I helped install permaculture design on something like seven different properties during five two day weekends. I learned a lot about permaculture and have been applying the principles to everything I do outside with plants ever since. I've been successfully keeping chickens for the last year and am considering moving from just eggs to a meat operation as well. I have been able to cover my meager costs of keeping the birds by selling the eggs for 3 dollars a dozen.

Now I'm a full time student training to be a Registered Nurse for a well paid position at the Ministry of Health. I have many other skills I've developed over the years like fermentation. I can ferment a good drinkable alcoholic cider that will get you drunk, and I have just about perfected the art of mead making with nothing but good local honey, champagne yeast, and a bucket. I can make all kinds of krauts and make the best fermented hotsauce you've ever ate (just ask JoeP if you don't believe me). I know how to can and grow food on the cheap using mostly scavenged materials. In fact, I'm familiar with most homesteading activities now due to practice in my own life. I even have a humanure operation that's got the biggest volunteer tomato plant you've ever seen growing out of it (last years humanure pile).

So there you have it...my skills, or worth as a potential vagabond post-petroleum human. If you fill in-between the lines, and connect the dots, and see in all dimensions and what-not...then I think I make a pretty valuable asset to your community. Pending the Foxstead doesn't get off the ground before TSHTF, and I get dislocated, and end up at your doomstead...now you can know my skills. My wife Gypsy Mama has a bunch of her own skills that have been won during a life of high tragedy. She recently turned into a Goddess before my eyes while giving birth to our second son Harper Tribann. She did that naturally. As in no epidural, or pain killing compounds of any kind. Just her and our beautiful second son. We are leading the charge out of the Matrix and it's destructive hologram of control. We have skills that will assure we survive anything short of a Near Term Human Extinction Event. Personally, I believe we will survive even that...like a prehistoric endospore that is still viable.

I didn't list all of my skills all official resume like because I'm not official like. There are a multitude of things I didn't list like knife sharpening, hole digging, joke making, fishin', and all manner of professional Jack Leggin'. But where survival is concerned...I and mine will survive. My hope is to bioneer what has been dubbed the Foxstead here in upstate SC with my vagabond crew of Diners. That is if the bottom doesn't drop out of this global bitch, or a super tornado doesn't come through and make the above a dissertation in doomer pointlessness. So what are your skills? We're accepting applications for the first Foxstead. Consider the task of writing your Doomer Resume your application for admittance. We're planning on saving as many as we can...non-Zombies at least. 

An iconic picture taken in Turkey days ago...coming to a Theater of Doom near you any day now (thanks JoeP)

 

Fateolysis and Destiniogenesis

Can one change one's fate? I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I've come to some conclusions on the matter. Before this question can really be answered there are some perspectives that must first be fermented to produce a living understanding. I think we are guaranteed a certain amount of fate regardless of our actions or inaction's. There are miniscule roots that run for miles from our DNA that were forged in a cauldron located in the millenniums before us. There are aspects of our fate that require magi status to do anything about, and even then I'm not so sure they can be gotten to and manipulated. This isn't to say that there is an omniscient God who cares about the outcome. It's more a matter of interconnection emanating from the proverbial butterfly's wings. Simply put, fate will happen and requires no consciousness on your part. This might as well be a metaphysical law. It probably is, but I don't have the occult background to know if there is such a law. I'm sure some of my readers might be able to illuminate the subject.

There is magnificent alchemical work that can be done to accomplish a chosen destiny. Achieving destiny requires your active participation and much discipline. It requires foresight, focus, and fateolysis, because in order to achieve destiny it requires the building blocks of fate to be teased out and manipulated. Fate must first be broken down in a conscious cauldron of change using all catalysts and enzymatic agents at ones disposal. Without this process destiny becomes a blind process subject to the whims of DNA and flying insects. I think the conclusion is that fate can't really be changed...just broken down and altered. How much fate has happened before you even become aware of it? What age where you when you started thinking about attempting to change it? Until one becomes conscious of the process it's all produced by fate alone. The nature of our existence, on this plane at least, is to constantly move forward while growing older. The adept's apprentice knows that he must become consciously involved in this process of reality manipulation if a chosen destiny is to have any chance of descending and solidifying into reality.

The trick is to become responsible for your choices for movement in this fluid field of existence. Then all agents concerned with one's movements must be identified and studied. The more of these agents that becomes successfully ousted, the better your chances of a chosen future. This is the act of Neo seeing the agents for the programming that they are and receiving the ability to stop bullets in response. He performs fateolysis by entering into the frame of the agent and exploding it from within. This is the point where Neo adds the final enzyme into the cauldron of his fate and destiny to create a manageable merger of the two. Fate can't be ignored and destiny must be maintained.

I've become very interested in the fate of my children. Realizing the workings of these matters in my own life has allowed me to consciously manipulate them for my sons. DNA can be changed. I believe that my offspring's DNA is slightly different from my own. Well at least the half that I'm responsible for. I think it's possible that innate abilities can be created and passed on. I want to be clear here because I'm NOT saying that I'm going to attempt to change who my son's are. It is however my ultimate and prime responsibility as a parent to manipulate their fates. Things are operating now that they have no control over. But I, and my wife, do have control over them. We are responsible for their existence. That responsibility is a heavy burden that must be cherished.

Take my in utero son, whom we have named Harper Tribann McCarty (although my wife want's to drop one of the n's and I'd like to keep it for authenticity's sake...marriage is a continual act of compromise), for example. He has no choice about the types of chemicals that are accompanying this critical time of his physical development. It is true that man has made a mess of the planet where health of life is concerned. Man has been a chemical making monkey for the last hundred years or so. Those chemicals are so ubiquitous in our reality that we develop in utero with them. This part of my son's fate I can do little about. The quality of food that my wife eats is something we can control to an extent. The nutrients that we give him for development we can do something about. In forging my own destiny chickens have arrived. They poop out happy backyard chicken eggs for my family. My wife eats those happy chicken eggs with their brilliant deep crimson yolks swimming with the building blocks of life. Those eggs nourish Harper's environment and provide his cauldron with quality natural resources. This is just one example in a universe of examples where my destiny is contributing to a better fate for my child.

My wife makes bread with pure, simple, natural ingredients; flour, salt, water, and yeast. The final product is influenced by natural alchemy and imbued with her intentional love. The final product removes a trivial amount of those malevolent chemicals, but it's yet one more act of us influencing our child's destiny. My 2 and a half out of utero son is beyond my comprehension. I'm obviously biased here, but this is not about being megalomaniacal or hyperegoic. He is an amazing human being that has his own destiny to contend with. I get to be a part of that process. He can do nothing about his fate while under his mother and fathers care. We can influence his fate, and we must do so. If my children are to have a chance in the long descent than I, and my wife, must do all that we can to better their fate in that climate. Chicken eggs, occasionally happy chicken meat protein, homemade bread, homegrown organic veggies, fermented foods made from pure and quality ingredients, compost, lots of tolerance and love, and an eye for the reality of reality will all help assist my son's in their journey through this anthropogenic clusterfuck of an environment.

In return, my son, soon to be sons, have influenced my destiny by their very existence. It's largely symbiotic. My own dysfunction in life has allowed me to access a moral compass that is derived from wisdom. Many of the problems that are a product of my own dysfunctional psyche have been outed, dealt with, and banished. It's a good thing to, because those things are all a product of my fate and they could have easily created a negative fate for my sons. My wife has done this same work. This past year she has been vigorously scrutinizing her fate. She has picked it apart and placed it in that cauldron. We are consciously manipulating this reality landscape with our wills. There are many factors tethered to our fate that we must learn to deal with because they will not go away. These factors were solidified into place before we even knew about them. They have already interacted with the future in ways we can do nothing about. Such is the nature of fate. It's irrevocably present. The best one can do is to identify it's parts and workings. This is how fateolysis is produced. One must know the proper enzymes to place in the cauldron to produce the desired destiny.

From my fateolysis comes the raw parts of a new destiniogenesis. My destiny is to be a Druid. Nature must be embraced by man. Our desire to control nature is destroying our biosphere. If we are to have a chance of continual survival on this planet than we must honor nature. We must stop this psychotic control, which is nothing more than an illusion anyways, and begin the process of making nature sacred again. This is something that can only be done one person at a time. I'm largely trapped in the matrix. At least for now. I'm trapped because I can see no other way to maintain a healthy family in our current world without access to money. I have to play the game in our nations "academic" business to earn my position in the outer party at the ministry of health in our dying empire. By 2015 I'll have a piece of paper that will say "Registered Nurse" on it. That piece of paper will give me access to a job that will pay me good money. Money that will allow me to maximize the environment to raise little druid sons. A safe environment tucked away from the madness of man. An environment surrounded by sacred nature. Nature that will influence, guide, and illuminate my sons Ayden Zen and Harper Tribann (or Triban depending on the compromise involved in marital negotiations). This is my chosen destiny. The destiny that will influence the fate of my sons. I only hope that when they reach the age of reason they will agree with me that nature is sacred. Hopefully enough druids will rise up to the challenge and begin the process of relinquishing that delusional and illusional control over nature.

Druid Permaculture Gypsy Magic

    

     Wendy and I recently bought a 31 foot, 1969, International, Sovereign, Land Yacht, Airstream.  In it’s day it was the king of kings as far as mobile living is concerned.  In 1969 it sold for nearly 10,000 dollars.  Today, the equivalent Airstream sells for $70,000 dollars.  It took us about two weeks of craiglist searching, and driving all over tarnation looking to finally arrive at the one we purchased.  We set 17 one hundred dollar bills down on a desk, received the title, and hooked up to the behemoth and towed it 140 miles to our home. 

    The only incident was that one of the rather large windows, approximately 3 feet long by 2 feet wide, flew off of the airstream and hit the side of a fedex trailer.  We had no idea until the fedex driver pulled up next to us and blew his horn, passed us, cut us off, and began slowing down while signaling to follow him onto the off ramp.  He informed me that the window had hit is trailer, but not to worry because he didn’t think Fedex would notice the minor damage.  He then told us that he owned an RV dealership two exits down.  He was quite certain that they might have a replacement window.  Thanks but no thanks Captain Coincidence.  I got back on the interstate and continued yankin’ that airliner fuselage down the road with my buddies Ford F-350, 7.3 liter, superduty, diesel truck.  Apparently this is the largest diesel engine one can buy without acquiring a CDL.  From the front of the truck, (which is taller than me and I’m 6'3") to the back of the trailer we were well over 50 feet long.  Ironically this set up was completely legal. 
   
     This isn’t exactly a true story you would expect to read on a dedicated peak oiler/permaculturalist’s blog is it?  Well, it’s not fiction, it’s true.  First off let me say that I am not a hypocrite, and this in no way makes me one.  However I do understand how contradictory and paradoxical this all may seem.  Let me explain.

    The need for this arrangement was a long time in the making.  The largest irony here is that this land yacht weights about 3000 pounds, completely gutted, as it stands now.  How many energy slaves does it take to move a 31' trailer up the side of a mountain?  I live 115 miles down the mountain in the hills.  In order to get to Asheville I have to climb the famed Saluda grade (7% grade).  Not to mention the Green River Gorge.  To get a 31' trailer from the upstate of SC to Ashville NC it takes a lot of fucking raw fossil fuel power.  As my wife said the other day while sitting in the cab behind that 7.3 liter diesel engine, “I think I just grew a dick.”  It’s amazing what that kind of power will do to the psyche. 

    So why would I do something like this?  Our global civilization is chillin’ somewhere in the ghetto of the bumpy plateau that might as well be the gate to the downward side of Hubbert’s peak.  All I can say is that it makes sense to me.  The greatest paradox is that my wife and I are embracing our gypsy natures all while cultivating a homestead.  Homesteads require daily work to be done and don’t stand up well to the homesteaders leaving for months at a time.  Yet they can go fallow, and we have begun designing our homestead to withstand months of our absence.  The bottom line is that people don’t take kindly to permaculture, druid, gypsy, ninjas round these parts.  I think Zombie Whispering may be a bust as a career path.  It’s a great skill to have, but only for short term interatctions with zombies.  You can’t live amongst them and not be them in the long term.  Hence the need for our behemoth airline fuselage.
   
    This is what it looks like to us.  We bought a home for 17 one hundred dollar bills.  The undercarriage, towing hardware, and skin of this vessel are all in great condition.  We bought it road worthy (we’re in the process of replacing all of the windows with plexiglass).  We are also in the process of profiting off of all of the vintage vanity that composed the guts.  When we are done with it we will have acquired a portable aluminum home at no cost.  I’m not trying to justify what we have done.  I’m just trying to tease my way through the illusory conundrum.

    Here are my plans for the Airstream.  I’m going to craft a solar hot water heater onto the top.  It will be placed where the airconditioning unit is now (after we sell it for good money due to it being 1969 original and still blowing cold air).  I’m designing a system of rain water catchment for the top as well.  I plan on connecting one sink to the hot water and placing a 55 gallon drum over the wheel’s for a cistern to collect the water.  It will also double as a heat source for the inside of the trailer, which I plan on superinsulating.  I also plan on one solar panel that will run one deep freezer and keep us able to plug into the matrix.  That will be the only need for electricity.  If you have a freezer you don’t need a refrigerator.  Gallon glass jugs half full of water and frozen, and then placed in coolers, provide an ample refrigerator.  There will also be a pantry built into the trailer that will hold bulk dry food (which is pretty much what we live on now...oats, rice, polenta, beans, eggs, and dairy consists of the majority of our diet). 

    This is my plan for the kitchen.  It will be an indoor/outdoor kitchen.  I plan on one propane tank to run the original gas oven and my two burner camping stove.  This will be the only thing we will need fuel for when stationary.  Yet we will not need this fuel to meet our needs.  Propane will simply be for convenience.  The oven also doubles as a heat source in the winter.  The majority of our cooking will be down with a solar oven and a rocket stove.  However we are also installing a small two burner, antique coal burning stove (the stove is from the early 20th century, and I will use small twigs for heat as the firebox is pretty small). 

    The bathroom will be a composting toilet on the inside as well as a camping style shower.  To shower one will simply take the lid off of the 55 gallon cistern, fill the bag, and then hang the bag in what will be a very small showering area on the inside of the airstream.  The water will just drain overboard and be collected in another container for reuse elsewhere. 

    Another aspect I’ve been playing with is a small scale biodiesel set up.  The idea will be to remain in place seasonally and only move as the seasons dictate.  So we will move no more than three times a year.  I figure three to four months is plenty of time to acquire the feedstock and make 30 gallons of fuel or so.  My permaculture associate has operated a biodiesel business in the past, so navigating the various ins and outs and what-have-you’s won’t be difficult.  The next phase of this plan is to acquire an old diesel truck.  However, it’s not necessary due to the fact that I have a 7.3 liter and a 6.3 liter at my disposal. 

    I’m not delusional about the transient nature of security that this plan provides us.  It requires lots of moving parts, but only to move on occasion.  Once in place, we will not need the grid for my families survival, and we will have the ability to go wherever sanity needs us.  I’m throwing all in on permaculture.  It is already providing me with community, but that community is up the mountain.  This is the only plan that will enable me to move my family there due to the hand I have been dealt. Staying in Zombieville is not an option long term.  However we can’t leave now, so this is the best we can do.  The matter of security is one in which I find the majority of us peak oiler’s don’t want to talk about.  I’ve said it before, Zombies are first and foremost insatiably hungry beings.  Zombie children are ravenous feral little evil fuckers that I want to limit my interaction with.  Don’t be mistaken about my intentions.  I have a healthy and open line of communication with the reality of the future.  The Airstream will have a weapon safe.  Essentially this is the vessel that we intend on surviving the long emergency in. 

    I suppose this is fate.  I’ve always been a nomad...it’s just my style.  So Druid Permaculture Gypsy Magic is the final form it would seem...for me and my family.  We still have a homestead here, in the hills, and we still have an obligation to care for our elder.  However that doesn’t mean that we have an obligation to stay in Zombieville.  I intend on surviving whatever the future throws my way.  As for the plans for the rest of the space in our spacecraft.  The first ten feet of trailer, in the front, is going to be nothing but bean bags, oversize pillows, a full size memory foam mattress, and a nice plush circular couch.  That’s right...an oversize chill room great for taken her easy as much as possible while surviving the downside of Hubbert's Peak. 

     As an interesting aside.  The Apollo 11 crew was quarantined in a 1969 airstream for 21 days after returning to Earth.   I suppose if it was good enough for the American legends that walked on the surface of the moon...it's good enough for my family.  The irony in this symbolism is so sweat that it's uniquely beautiful.  The airstream truly is an American Icon that represents the height of American engineering applied to recreation.  I find this a perfect symbol to make an abode to travel into the long descent with.  It's a very real American vessel ripe with space age overtones.  I think what we are doing is necessary, logical, and unavoidable.  If nothing else, the psychological security blanket that this project is providing my family is worth it.  All of us who are aware of the reality of the long descent want to feel that we can do something constructive to combat the helplessness.  There is great value for my families psychological health in this vessel.  This is a very real spacecraft that we are designing to navigate our way into the long descent. 

Talking to President Nixon while in Quarantine

Mobile Quarantine 

On the side of the USS Hornet