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Friday, February 16, 2007 10:55 AM
Wow, it has been busy! Thank you for all the positive feedback
on my essay of a few days ago. It is perfect weather today,
going to be warm. I'm finished with taxes and packaged three
of the Cuban movie, about their "peak oil" experience
and their successful method of dealing with it. It is a great
movie and leaves you in a totally different state than "an
Inconvenient Truth," though both are really important
and great. I'm sending them to TJ, Rick, and my sister-in-law.
Chickies at work can borrow it from Rick - it is not copy
protected so if you have a DVD copier in your laptop or PC
please make yourself and copy and share it. If you're in Elmira,
arrange with TJ to borrow or view. This morning we have a
Phil Churchill essay that he emailed to me last night. Here
it is:
I was watching the news a few
days ago and there was a segment where
survivors of Hurricane Katrina were being interviewed
a year later. Those
being interviewed were still having difficulty getting
their lives back to
normal. All of them had one basic complaint, they had
lost all of their
"stuff". Not one of them expressed any happiness
that they had escaped with
their lives. One of them, when asked if he was happy that
he still had his
life, he replied that without his "stuff" he
had no life. I found it sad
that a person's identity and sense of self could be so
connected to material
"stuff" that his life was meaningless without
it. Yet, that is exactly what
our society teaches, that we need "stuff" in
order to have a meaningful
life.
Since that news segment aired I've been giving a lot of
thought as to what
kind of mental and emotional preparation is necessary
to handle a crisis
event and its aftereffects. In this essay I'll try to
define what is
happening mentally and emotionally in most people during
a crisis and I'll
explain some of the steps I think are necessary in preparing.
The first thing most people feel is fear. The level of
fear varies
depending on how fast the crisis event occurs. If you
are waiting for a
tornado or hurricane to pass, your level of fear will
be quite high because
you have time to dwell on the impending crisis. Where
if the crisis comes on
suddenly, say your car going into a skid on black ice,
you may be through
the crisis before fear has time to register.
The second thing people feel is confusion. Having your
normal routine
suddenly and often violently disrupted will confuse almost
anyone. This is
where that shell shocked look on survivors faces comes
from.
If a person makes it through the initial crisis and can
not return to his
normal routine afterwards, he will often become depressed.
This occurs
because a person has lost the mental and emotional stimulus
they are used
to. Basically the brain shuts down and needs time to adjust.
Dwelling on
things you have lost or unwillingness to accept the situation
can make the
depression deeper.
If the isolation from normal routine continues for an
extended period, say
weeks or months, then a person will often suffer from
monotony. Generally
this occurs when a person clings to the memory of his
old routine and is
unwilling to accept the new routine. Time seems to drag
by and he will often
appear listless and apathetic.
So how do we prepare in order to lessen the emotional
impact of a crisis
event?
With fear the first thing need to do is study previous
events and decide
on a plan of action. Then we need to practice that plan.
It is not always
necessary to physically practice, just going through it
several times in
your mind is effective. While you will not eliminate fear,
by having a plan
of action to focus on will greatly reduce the intensity
of that fear.
Second, practice living in the moment. The future is an
unknown quantity,
so focus on each moment as it comes.
Since confusion is created by having your normal routine
suddenly
disrupted, by having a plan of action and practicing it,
you have created a
routine that is already familiar to you. By focusing on
your plan, you can
pretty much eliminate any confusion.
Depression can be dealt with by focusing on the positive
things that
happened during the crisis, such as: you survived, your
plan worked, etc.
The best way to deal with depression is to work on connecting
your sense of
self to your skills and abilities and not on money or
possessions. It will
mean breaking much of the programming society gives us,
but it is well worth
the effort.
Monotony can be dealt with simply by being willing to
let go of the old
routine and embracing the new one. After all, if you are
clinging to old
habits and routines, it means your stuck in a rut. A crisis
could do you a
favor by forcing you out of it.
A few of you that have read my writings are probably wondering
by now if
I've ever had to put what I preach to the test. Alan has
mentioned that I
once spent three months testing the skills I've developed,
but that was a
voluntary situation. While I've had a couple of close
encounters with
tornadoes and I've been caught out in sub-zero temps during
a three day
blizzard, I've only experienced one event where I thought
I would die.
The event occurred on Lake Francis Case, one of the large
lakes created by
damming the Missouri River. I had an uncle that lived
near the lake and I
would often borrow a small boat from him to fish. Since
the area I preferred
to fish was a small creek channel off the main lake I
rarely used a motor
since I prefer rowing. It's a quiet and relaxing way to
fish. I usually
stayed off the main lake since it was often windy.
That particular day was clear with a light breeze and
I felt it was safe
enough to fish an underwater point that extended out into
the main lake from
the mouth of the creek. I had taken off my lifejacket
since it was quite
warm and I had worked up a sweat from rowing. I fished
for perhaps an hour
when the breeze died and the lake became as still as glass.
I was about 250
yards from shore and when I looked around I saw a white
line moving down the
lake. Behind the line the lake appeared to be boiling.
I realized that a
high wind was moving towards me and I had only a couple
of minutes to get
off the lake. I knew that if I got into the creek channel
I would be safe
since it was at right angles to the main lake. I didn't
make it.
One minute I was in calm water, the next in 7 to 8 foot
waves. The only
thing I could do was to keep the bow of the boat pointed
into the wind. I
knew if the boat got turned sideways it would tip over
and if I tried to go
with the wind a wave would break over the back of the
boat and swamp it. It
was difficult to keep the boat under control. I would
row like mad going up
a wave and when I crested the top, the boat felt like
it was standing on
end, then would come crashing down. I had a cooler in
the boat and when the
boat came down, I was slammed against it. I suddenly realized
that the
cooler had kept me from being thrown off the seat and
onto the floor of the
boat and I could use it to brace myself. From then on
it was row like hell,
lean back on the cooler, brace, crash and then repeat.
At first I did not feel much fear. I think I was far too
busy. Fear did
not come until later. I knew I was being blown farther
out into the lake and
down its length. Suddenly I realized there was another
boat battling the
waves. It was a cabin cruiser, perhaps 20+ feet in length
and it was being
thrown about like a cork. Several times while it was in
view, I saw its
propeller out off the water.
After seeing the difficulty that large boat was having,
it suddenly hit me
that I didn't have a chance in hell of surviving, I was
going to die! An
intense feeling of despair came over me and I nearly let
go of the oars. It
lasted only a few moments when another emotion hit me.
Anger, anger at
myself for being stupid enough to get caught out there,
anger at thinking I
was going to die, anger at being such a coward. I remember
screaming "Fight
you stupid SOB! Fight goddamn it!".
Something strange happened at that moment. Time stopped
and the world
seemed to contract until nothing was left except me and
the wave I was on. I
don't know how long that feeling lasted. The next thing
I remember is that
it wasn't as rough and I was making headway against the
wind and waves. I
continued to row towards the side of lake I started from
and when I finally
reached shore, I had difficulty pulling the boat out of
the water. I was
completely exhausted. I laid by the boat for quite awhile
before I realized
my hands hurt. Much of the skin on my hands was torn and
bleeding.
The only thing left in the boat was my cooler and the
oars. All of my
fishing gear was gone, including my lifejacket. I put
my hands in ice water
for awhile, then tore my shirt into bandages. I ate a
couple of sandwiches
and sat down to decide what to do. I knew that I had been
blown west but I
didn't know how far. I knew nobody lived west of my uncle
for several miles
and the country was steep hills and brush covered. I wasn't
in shape to walk
out so I decided to follow the shoreline in the boat.
It was tough getting
back in that boat! I finally got back to my vehicle long
after dark.
Afterwards, my uncle and I checked his maps and figured
I had been blown
some 10 or 12 miles down the lake. I never did find out
what happened to
that other boat.
It has been difficult for me to write this story down.
It still has a lot
emotional impact for me even though it happened over 12
years ago. I share
it as an example that no matter how desperate or hopeless
a situation seems,
if you have the willpower and determination, you can survive.
Thank you for
reading. Philip
|
I will
move this to the preparation section later today when I have
more time (and less sun to enjoy).
Wednesday, February 14, 2007 7:20 PM
 |
I
met mama's paw prints this afternoon, right by the petroglyph
site, just as you enter the wash. The wind was blowing
like made and they couldn't have been very old as they
were dusting in while I was taking the picture. Certainly
no older than a few hours. I found a line of about six.
I tried to indicate the size by putting my bicycle riding
glove there. It was much much larger than baby's print.
If I folded my knuckles and spread them I could just fit
the four finger knuckles over the print. Oh mama. Hard
to take a picture when you know she was there recently
and there is a rock outcropping over your right shoulder
perfect for a rest and if she was feeling peevish - well,
lunch! I know, she would be more scared of me. .. blah
blah blah. Wanna bet? I kept remembering - make yourself
big for cats small for bears. I made myself gone. |
| This
is the roughed out shape of a skinning and dressing out
knife. On the farm I butchered many types of animals that
I raised and it always bugged me that the knives I had,
if long enough, were two thick and not razor sharp, and
on all of them the handles were too short and hard to
keep sanitary. So about 8 months ago when the handle on
my favorite kitchen knife fell apart I grabbed a few strips
of oak from a my desk that was in the trailer before and
glued up the handle, extra long. I have left them in the
cabinet above my desk for about 6 months, so I guess the
epoxy is probably set :) Sorry if this grosses you out
but a nice sharp knife is like the two long pointy teeth
in your mouth. Be the tooth. |
So
here is the rough out of the oak handle. When you see
it next it will be a think of beauty with no holes or
recesses and it will be soaked in varathane so that it
can just be rinsed off with water. |
Wednesday, February 14, 2007 11:03 AM
Happy Valentine's day. This will be an odd post.
I've been digesting the nine letters I received in response
to my post where I considered not blogging anymore. Some of
the responses shocked me, good and bad, one wowed me, one scared
me. But my dear friend Evalyn used a term in a subsequent email
to me that set me thinking. Darkness, the pull of darkness,
not wanting to fall into the dark thoughts. The coming upheaval,
collapse, uncertainity, many of you see it as a great black
nothingness, black despair. One good friend has said on at least
two occasions, “I hope I'm dead before this starts.”
Hmmm.
What I was going to tell you this morning is that many projects
are underway and soon to start or finish. They are:
Finishing my kitchen knife handle – which is for butchering
and skinning – sorry to the vegs.
Completing the welding cart – which is also a way to
have a power station in the truck when I travel.
Putting handles on a hunting knife that I found in the desert
– I'm drying a nice and pretty piece of ironwood for
that.
Showing you the normal primitive method of straightening shoot
arrows – which have been drying in the back seat of
the truck for two weeks.
Building a Juniper self bow – just for fun.
Writing a battery reclamation article
Eliciting comments on refrigeration in a low energy future
A piece on my view of low energy homes in a low energy future.
Writing a piece about following the art in your heart, and
doing a little art each day to keep your creative juices flowing.
In "what comes" we need you to be creative not dogmatic.
In
hiking up the hill today, looking forward to my thermos of
coffee waiting as my reward when I get back (41 minutes today,
round trip). I use the French press but it really cools the
coffee off so I put it right into the Stanley stainless thermos
as soon as it is done. So I was hiking up and down and thinking
about the comment on darkness.
It
often appears that I have turned myself inside out on these
pages, that you have seen me up and down and that I always
say what you would have the better sense to not, but in that,
some of you figure out that it maybe gives you a little permission
when I spew, because certainly the other data inflows in your
life tend to be sanitized to the point that each of us feels
isolated and alone. I think we are each wonderfully unique,
but not so different, not so special, and definitely not alone
in any way. I am part of you when you read my words, my ramblings
a bit of dust that forms points of departure for your own
thoughts, even if it is only to say – he's fucking nuts.
But
actually I do filter, I am hidden, I'm still, maybe like you,
worried about being judged. So deciding to continue to write
this blog comes down to two paths for me. One is to do projects
and humorous bits on my ineptness, which make things seem
not so hard to do things and not so scary. Well, sometimes
it is damn hard, and sometimes it is damn hard to be frustrated
and not be able to find my way forward. Sometimes it is scary
to be so far outside of the mainstream that I have more in
common with the man dressed in rags talking to invisible friends,
than I have with my brother. But yes I can do project after
project and amuse you. But I find that not enough anymore.
The second path for me is to show you the alternative, the
way through the darkness and distress that will swallow many
people in our lifetimes. I will lose many of you if I go that
way. I will also have to be serious sometimes and you will
see that I am not so normal and that might flip you out and
turn you off to what I have to say. That is a danger I have
played with this year, edging closer, losing readers. That
is why I have not said, this is Alan, this is what he is doing,
this is what he is preparing for, and this is what he thinks.
I have no qualifications to speak except, except that I am
made of the very same stardust as you, that I have survived,
like you, and my one trick pony is perception and summation.
I can't see so well, I don't hear so well, but in a world
of intentional shadows and half truths, hidden people, swallowed
angst and despair, I see you, and patterns and paths that
lead out of this mess.
I don't see blackness for the free chickens. I don't see blackness
or despair as the only alternative in a hard future, not for
any of us. We have a choice! But to follow my thinking where
it goes, some of you will be challenged because it requires
me, you, us, to say at every step, I don't know and what I
already knew was programmed bullshit that served others but
not me. So like walking on new ice, I have to put out my foot
and press. Does it support my weight? Did it crack? Does it
make sense? Does it FEEL true?
So as much as I can muster the courage to look foolish, make
mistakes, piss you off, alienate you, it is finally, the only
way to continue to write here. I must write what comes out
of me. It comes through me and I'm often shocked by what I
think and say too, not just you. Side note, you have and will
often hear me refer to “Wilson.” Wilson is the
volleyball that Tom Hank's talked to in the movie “Castaway.”
That is because I identify all of my cultural programming
in my head, my critical jeering observer, as a composite volleyball
named Wilson. Hanks cried at one point at Wilson, when he
just couldn't control or understand what was happening to
him, “I don't know Wilson, I don't know why.”
Well I'm with Tom Hanks often lately. But, BUT, I do see a
path that empowers us, that is sunny, not dark, and it requires
courage of me to write it, because my brother, and some of
my friends already are dismayed at what I write, what I believe,
and my fascination for finding useful things that others have
thrown away. A small tumor perhaps in the frontal lobe, heh?
I
was walking a month ago in the desert close to the trailer
on the west bank of Tyson's Wash when I found a primitive
campsite. Brush had been piled to make some sort of bed, and
there was a fire pit. Various articles of discarded clothing
were strewn about. You could sense the excrement around you.
There was a blue bandanna hanging on a bush, crusty. You can
feel it in your mind, right? Touch it, yewwww. Cooties at
least.
I had seen this camp site many times over the last month.
There used to be fires there every night that I could see.
Probably the Rainbow family kids – they often hide there
because it is close to town. I figured they probably have
head lice or TB or killer staph mutations and of course I
left the kerchief in the tree and walked on. But two weeks
ago something made me take it. I took it home and soaked it
in detergent and then boiled it for a couple of minutes. I
rinsed and hung it to dry and a couple of days later took
it inside and wondered what I would do with it. Should it
be a snot rag? Maybe it could be a folded pretty thing on
the table? No, I decided on a bandanna for when I hike, or
like the Harley guys do, I could tie it up over my hair. Of
course I have rarely been a participant in life, always the
observer, so no one had ever showed me how tie a bandanna.
So what would you do? You can guess what I did.
I looked it up on the internet. Two sites have all you want
to know and one with animated pictures.
I learned to tie my bandanna and wore it around the trailer
and went, “cool.” I'll put a picture on the blog.
How embarrassing, right?
But what I learned was that I have almost no basic skills.
I have no tribe to teach me and what I learned in school,
college and work was to be a part for civilization, a replaceable
part that was bought. There I learned things that helped them,
continue to help them, but everything I know that I like to
do, I taught myself. The real Alan is self taught and the
real Alan asked and learned and was shown, but always outside
the context of “usefulness.” And so today and
everyday I continue my self teaching, I resort to the internet
like it was my mother. Currently I'm in the middle of a DVD
series on great masterpieces of art.
Back
to having to do the blog differently from now on. That was
a typical Alan story you just read. The sharing of an embarassment,
a little twist, a little funny haha, and close with a bit
of epiphany in the “what I learned from this”
mode. But that is not what has to be written, and the darkness
that Evalyn wrote about requires a different Alan to write
it the going-through-it. It requires me to tell you what I
see, not as a joke, but as directions through a forest. I
have recoiled from this because I have no right to write it.
I have recoiled from this because I don't want to be thought
a fool. Shit, rock and hard place again.
I am driven to say what this way comes, name the beast, taunt
it, and laugh at it because beyond that darkness, the fear
of being sucked into “survivalism” where all discussions
are about hydrostatic shock affecting human flesh how, and
at a velocity of so many feet per second. We must talk and
think and write and share beyond all that, as those are blind
alleyways – we may use them, but we are not them. We
are creatures of light, loving, changing, learning. We're
just harnessed to a wrong set of beliefs, we are conditioned
to respond, we are brainwashed, and we are used. I believe
this blog must become about breaking that conditioning. preparing
yes, getting in condition, yes, forming loyal bonds and working
on integrity for no matter what comes we can do the fire walk
together. I have the unforgivable hubris to think I can see
a way to be, a way to grow and a way to enjoy throwing off
the traces of this brutal life we live in. For those who wish
more money and bigger houses who might be reading this in
self indulgent belief that I have finally slipped a cog, please
look at the sterility of your existence, the search for friendship
and community where you have none, and the fact that even
now you hunger for something to fill your days. We have stagnated
inside the machine, and like sheep raised only behind a fence,
we fear being free of our prison, which we mistakenly label,
comfort. How can we fear the darkness when we have a chance
to come alive, to throw off old beliefs, conditioning and
adapt to whatever comes. The end of this little tirade is
simply what I believe must be step one for each of us free
chickens.
Courage.
Decide you are more than what you have been. Have the courage
to believe that what comes calls for exactly what you are
best at – joyous change to a more powerful you. Why
fear of change? Do we really care so much about others –
honestly? Or is it that in change we may have to confront
ourselves, that we are afraid, that we feel inadequate. Of
course you're inadequate, I'm in adequate, I had to look up
how to tie a bandanna on the internet – what a dope!
Yes I am, so are you, and so the fuck what about it. I can
learn, you can learn, we are adapting creatures, and the secret,
chickies, the secret is that as we expand our joy and prowess
the fear recedes. Or as Gary wrote me two days ago, “if
you're done, your done.” I'm not done, so I have to
write.
Don't you be done either, chickies, squint into the sun, draw
a bead, hike up your britches and scream into the darkness,
come and get me fuckers because I will not go quietly into
the night. I need no gun, no knife to no sword, for this is
my world, my dirt, my country, my air, not owned by any corporation
or government. I reject this life of charade and shadow. I
am made from the dust of this planet which is in turn made
from the dust of exploding stars and I can do no less than
say this civilization is fucked, it is bad for the planet,
bad for you, and it enslaves us to forced contribution in
a financial system that values your most useless attributes.
What does work care for your courage, your heart, your ability
to learn, your ability to love, your ability to have the hair
stand up on your body when the sun rises and the air flows
across you. Do you sing, do you paint, do you enjoy your life?
This civilization has no use for you as other than a machine
part or problem. I see your beauty, I see your capability
to produce the art of you in all that needs doing. I THINK
YOU ARE MAGIC!
Courage chickies! Courage, is step one.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007 7:05 AM
Morning chickies! Much to write today and a walk up the mountain
in 10 minutes.
 |
After
considerable procrastination yesterday I drained the
engine of all fluids, cleaned everything I could without
major disassembly, cleaned the spark plug, looked through
the exploded drawings of the carb and realized that
I couldn't go in here, in the desert, because is almost
a clean room operation and requires gaskets which I
don't have. I put the oil back in, refilled the gas
tank and fired it up. It ran.
The
thump thump thump problem was a drive gear problem,
I thought, but I needed to start back at square one,
so I replaced one broken spoke, dissembled the new wheel
putting the disk brake and the freewheel back on the
old wheel - changing over tire and tube of course. I
reinstalled the motor on the bike and used the old drive
belt.
Test ride - works. I don't know why Wilson! So I took
a ride to town to pick up a package that Scott had called
me about and it was flawless - so far.
Now I have to find out what is different about the new
wheel causing my original problem. Technology. |
Tuesday, February 13, 2007 6:56 AM
Gary got his solar panels - the Unisolar 64W and will be photographing
them as he installs. I hope to make his installation the core
of the medium solar installation which is long overdue.
I read this which was linked from Ran Prieur's site this morning
and it reminded me of the yesterdays advice from a reader to
"unwrap my heart" from those asleep. I don't think
I'm more awake than you or anyone, hell, I'm always the last
to figure out what is going on right in front of me. However
I love the line about why waking us from the dream is wrong.
"Everyday
reality is governed by commonsense rules derived from
the collective beliefs of sleepers. This is called the
consensus...
So what we call "normal" reality is simply the
work of a large number of people who are creating reality
on an unconscious level. You can get free of this, and
be more powerful, by being conscious of your own creative
choices and actions... or if you want to be really powerful,
you can try to tell the sleepers what to dream, but I
think this is wrong, and dangerous, because you're cutting
in on the interests of the other sleeper controllers.
The safest ethical action is to wake sleepers on a small
scale." - I don't know author. |
Monday, February 12, 2007 6:29 PM
This day in pictures. Thank you for the phone call, the letters
and the stories. Sorry I was depressed, down, but if I don't
go down I can't come up. I think all of you know that I'm half
Italian, right?
sob,
sniff |
Back
from Q mountain (hill). This my Vietnam War military backpack
that I bought off ebay about 3 or 4 years ago. My plan
is to add weight to it each day and still try to improve
my times up to the top. Barstick is resting so this is
stick two, the lesser. |
 |
Left,
I first setup the 36V configuration and used a shunt as
before, a pretty long one. I started with 3/32 6011 rod
and tacked the wheel onto the cart body. I then aligned
it more correctly with a big hammer and ran the whole
weld. This is a whole different welding setup no. It's
all coming back.
Above- I ran three tacks down the other side of the pipe
just because I was having fun and making sparks. Got several
in my cardboard helmet and a couple in my glove. |
The
new/altered bracket is back on and I pedaled in for groceries
and I just DIED coming back over the bridge. What a sissy.
I want my motor, I want my MTV, that's the way you do
it, money for nothing...
you know the rest, they were joking about the chicks,
right? |
I have added a drop down tab with a hole in it that will
line up with a bold on the rear disk break. It doesn't
carry weight, it just stops the bracket from rotating
around the axle. My test ride to grocery shopping passed
with flying colors. |
Projects,
getting in shape, making arrows, living small and cheap
are my way of dealing with the coming crisis and every
day insults. I don't know if it makes any difference to
a global outcome, I suspect not at all, but to my outcome
and my mental health as we watch the storm clouds in the
distance, it is some small peace for me to try, and to
try and tell you what I'm doing. I must do something rather
than nothing. As much as I love the desert bunnies, I
don't want to be one.
You probably read earlier today that I've decided to continue
on documenting my surprise, discomfort, and small epiphanies
and smacking us all in the face with the evidence I find
that shows us that this is the dream, it was the moment,
and now it is going away. You can be angry at me, but
my role, for me, is not chicken little crying the sky
is falling, but rather someone who accidentally led a
life that taught him to do a number of very different
things. I enjoy sharing that with all of you. |
This is for my brother who is trying to make a decision
on an RV. I like this one. The owner of this bike thinks
I'm a snob because of my trailer. That's a lot of technology
on one bike, ok, a lot of crap too. I love insane people
on bicycles because they never care about the weight.
|
Good night
chickies and thank you for supporting me. It is nice to hear
your voices in words.
Monday, February 12, 2007 3:31 PM
I'm going to keep doing what I do, concentrating on my little
projects and sneaky looks at the world. It has been a hard two
weeks for me on many fronts so bear with me. My blog is me and
with rare exceptions you get to peek into my life without much
censoring. That means sometimes I'm tired of all of this and
you're going to read about it. One of the letters I received
this morning had a rant feeling to it and I wanted to share
this brutal appraisal, as coldly, I think he is, unfortunately,
right on the money. Except I don't know if middle class chooses
this life of excess, or rather, were we trained to it, like
I used to train the pigs I raised to fear the electric fence
with they were very little?
| The
masses are used to hearing the announcement just before
the bomb hits. We live in a world of gimme, gimme gimme
right now! If you expect to change that attitude with
the truth and smack dab “in your face” proof,
you’re in for a lot of disappointment! The masses
are already dead. Unwrap your heart from them and accept
that they chose to give up their life for money and the
life they’ve been allowed to live. |
I have
lots of pictures from the last two days. I did some very nice
welding today, rebuilding the trailer bracket, as it had used
the motor mount for a support and with the motor off I had to
come up with something different. It took me three tries but
it is good now. I welded the wheels to the battery cart, and
there is much more to do tomorrow. I welded for over 20 minutes
of burning time - 3 big rods and 2 small rods and I only dropped
the voltage to about 12.43V from 12.67V (full charge). I'm very
pleased with both sized rods. I really like the 6013 better
than the 6011, it makes a smoother weld for me. I'll put up
pics tonight. I have to bicycle to town as a diet pepsi emergency
has been called - last can drunk, I'm down to RO water.
Sunday, February 11, 2007 10:01 PM
As many of my friends have known, each year I have done a
little blog when I started my trip away from work. The first
year I thought I had quit work entirely and would never be
back, so I wrote about how afraid I was. I also wrote the
rants that you find still on this website if you look for
them. Each year I also stopped writing the blog when issues
arose or time constraints chafed. Last year it was loosing
Barsik and my responsibility for that. So I stopped.
This year starting the blog was completely different. I renamed
my little website, restructured and put some pretty intensive
effort into finding my position on peak oil, global warming,
credit insanity and bursting bubbles. I know and knew that
I wasn't smart enough for the size of this job. Certainly
I could not learn all I needed to convince you, the reader,
of a necessary new perspective but I thought I could at least
get my mind and heart around the disturbing events that await
us and present them digestible form. I thought that I could
map out a design whereby we, working together, could lay out
the hint of a path that might work in our future, a future
of greatly reduced energy, and greatly increased uncertainty,
at least for a small tribe of us.
I got to tell you, I'm tired. I'm tired of coming up against
the dead ends that every investigation leads me to. Many of
you have said I'm too gloomy, focusing on the negative. Honestly
I have read a hundred times worse, and well supported information
than I have every said here. I so feel like joining with the
majority of you who simply say, OK, IF its true, we're all
fucked anyway, so what's to change or do. The answer is, you
are probably right, there is nothing to do and preparation
will probably be ineffective for most of us. So we turn away
and go back to whatever we are doing as if jobs and buying
cars and houses on credit is the reality and this uncertain
future, peak oil, global warming and survival is just a philosophical
discussion. You know it probably is. It is probably all bullshit,
a bit of undigested beef as Marley told Ebeneezer.
We live right now in the insane asylum and if there was a
galactic landlord we would have been evicted long ago. So
I can make all the little stoves and welders and bicycle trailer
hitches, but I can't put humpty dumpty back together again,
which I didn't expect to anyway as I'm not big on achievement,
better at quitting, which puts me in a 22' airstream (19'
inside end to end), at 88 cents a day in the Sonoran desert.
That sounds whiny - - what is shocking to me is that I can't
find anyone who thinks there is really any hope of avoiding
a huge die off. It even is referred to formally as "the
die-off." I have looked in vain for the chain of logic,
love, belief that results in us getting green, producing less
carbon, living within a solar yearly budget that is sustainable
in earth sheltered homes, retreating from the areas that are
too energy wasting to live in, but there is no sign that sensible
homes will ever be built or that most of us will give up or
toys until they are pried from our dead hands. It would appear
to those who look outside the windows of the asylum - smart
people - not me - that we will see 4.5 to 5 BILLION people
die in the next ten years. 6 BILLION would be better for the
planet, and really the sooner the better so that the earth
has some hope of maybe recovering.
You know, I can find more proof and support for the presence
of aliens and UFOs among us they I can find hope that we will
prepare and avert a huge die off!
I am tired here in my little semi retired rolling test tube
of projects and exposition. I find myself impotent to make
the change in myself, my world or my heart or you, that will
make the slightest bit of difference. So far I have persisted
because I have tenacity to play and build and test things,
and the blog is generally fun for me, but tonight I watched
Al Gore's movie, "an inconvenient truth" and I am
shaken. I'm not able to find the words to wrap this in a candy
wrapper for you or me anymore. I have leapt from the hard
place and fallen short of the rock, and we all are certainly
between the two.
I'm headed
over to bunnies.com and I really want to learn the real cause
of Anna Nicole's death. I want to watch Grey's Anatomy and
learn why so many people love "Survivor" and I want
to care what Oprah thinks, and follow Dr. Phil's advice, and
when I go back to work I want to believe in the mission. I
want to believe that I am good and my work counts and my actions
have value. I want to be just a little fucking normal for
a while, but I don't really know where home is any more, and
I certainly don't know what normal is. I think I am done with
this for a while.
Saturday, February 10, 2007 4:13 PM
"It's clear to me that civilization is collective black
magic, a sub-flow that goes against the flow of the larger
universe, and that this train is about to hit the wall. There
are innocent victims. The universe has room for mistakes,
and puts us in situations we can't handle. If polar bears
and Chinese prison laborers could read Steve Pavlina, they
would still be up shit creek. I don't know why I'm standing
by the exit door while other people are trapped in the engine
room, but here I am, so I'm going to try to get some people
out, and enjoy the rest of the ride." - Ran
Prieur - today's blog. Thick going but worth it.
Saturday, February 10, 2007 9:47 AM
I just added the pictures of the stove with the added chimney
down below. Phil has mentioned to me in an email that his
experience with various coffee can stoves is that they burn
through the steel in a few weeks of use. I think that will
be true of the burn can - the inner can here too, maybe even
faster because the fire burns so hot due to the additional
insulation around that can. But I don't think the outside
can will be much affected. I'm using the bigger V8 sized can
so it will be no problem to keep a few cans of V8 in stock
(I try to carry 6 months worth of dry and canned food in the
Airstream at all times). The inner can has only the one circular
hole to be cut about a 5 minute job and it is not attached
to the outer can in any other way. The quick chimney that
I made yesterday should last a long time as it is not as hot
as the burn can.
I recommend that you build a can too. After I build something
I begin to see the different variations that might make it
better. I know, I know, that's part of the mess were in, but
maybe a simple technology that is better for the earth and
uses trash to create it is a good thing.
Later.
Friday, February 9, 2007 4:18 PM
My bicycle engine is spewing gas out the exhaust pipe now,
and the drive line gear slippage remains. It looks like a
float needle (if pumper carbs have needles) is stuck open.
The slippage is gear wear. I'm going to pull the engine off
the bicycle for now until I can deal with the carburetor.
It will help me stay in shape I guess while I wait for pieces.
This is the problem of a technological answer that is just
two fragile for the abuse I've been giving it. The the carb
problem is not abuse. I know what Phil Churchill would say
- I'm too high on the technology tree, I have to get more
primitive. Speaking of Phil, lets start of with a work I commissioned
a couple of weeks ago from him.
Glass
is knapp-able just like obsidian. Phil
knew this sake bottle bottom was important to me. He did
a wonderful job and I love it. |
When
I was on the island of Korsae about five years ago, I
met a land owner who took me on a hike up into the mountains
to where the Japanese held about 200 of the island people
prisoner (only at night, in the day they had to come down
and work for the Japanese) during WW2. They put two hundred
people into a cave I could barely stand up in. It was
really a cliff overhang on the side of a tropical mountain.
It was above 75 feet wide, 40 feet to where the dirt met
the roof, and about 15 feet high at the front.
The wind had built a drift of dirt in the cave burying
much of the debris that the islanders had left in their
incarceration. My guide and friend about my age (who is
half Japanese - you can figure it out) dug down through
the soil and found the bottom of a broken Sake bottle.
There was such despair and misery in his eyes over what
had transpired here. I have kept the broken bottle bottom
since then, but it was sharp and ugly and a symbol of
domination and oppression. I have always wondered what
to do with it, as I felt it important to me, but objectionable
at the same time. .
And on the left you see what it has become, a Mayan eccentric
face in a symbolic arrowhead. I will put a silver wire
wrap around the notch and it will hang here in the trailer.
A memory of a very hard time for a very sweet people.
. |
I revisited
two projects today. I wanted to go to Crystal Hill and look
for a "perfect" stone for my Barstick, but instead
I because mired in shopping, water, mailing the glpyh disks,
and working on the bicycle. Frustrated with the bicycle I
left that and worked on my enhancements to the jet stove.
 |
Left:
I wanted to make a pot holder and chimney extension to
further increase the speed of the burn and draw - and
thus efficiency. I ate peaches for two days and then marked
the can. Above: I cut out the shape with a hunting knife,
and I'm building a wind generator out of the tiny blades
on the right- just kidding. |
I folded
up the remaining pieces to make feet that would keep the
cans on top of one another. The joint does not have to
be air tight and in fact would be nice if it provided
a small clean air inlet below the top to further burning
the rising gases.
Another enhancement is the half plate in the intake can.
I have found this on larger models and it is suppose to
bring the air more easily under the fire. |
I will
be testing this as it gets darker and have a picture for
you tomorrow. Note that I cut "teeth" into the
top. This will be clear why when I put up the test fire
picture.
|
| 
The
"upgrade" worked, and the pot was stable.
I found a few small sticks on the ground around the
trailer - and what you see here is what was needed to
boil the water. Once I trust it enough, I'll move it
on to a table outside the casa blanca so that I don't
have to bend over to feed it.
I
did learn that having cover for the pot (if the pot
is this small) is probably a good idea. A small amount
of ash and soot escapes the burning gas column. |
Notice
that almost all the fuel has been pushed in. Unlike
a normal fire, pushing in the sticks makes an immediate
change in the fire's intensity.
The time to boil the water felt like 1/2 longer than
my propane range in the Safari Airstream. I don't think
it is as hot. I plan to experiment with reducing the
airflow and also to build a windscreen that sits on
top of the coffee can and fits a boiling pot.
|
My next project
was to cut up the broken grocery cart. This will be welded into
a battery cart and welding cart for my miscellaneous projects.
It will also ride in the truck and provide power for the satellite
dish when I'm traveling. The batteries will be charged by the
old 1970's panel that is there and the three HF panels - I will
be mounting them flat on the truck roof for mobile use.
Above
you see my shadow and the cart after I've hack sawed
through the various tubes and rivets.
To
the right you can see my with one of my victorious smirks
having successfully gotten the wheels cut off. Also
you can see the ladder I am using to scold the doves
that keep trying to nest under my solar panels on the
airstream. I have been very stern with them. I've been
explaining family planning and how theirs is a very
very bad plan.
|
You
can't see it clearly but I am dripping sweat after 5 hacksaw
cuts. It was hot this afternoon, and still is a bit too
warm in the trailer. You can kind of see my Algodones
haircut too. |
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