“I try to keep in mind how I came into the world: struggling for air, and then crying. Covered in somebody else’s blood, slapped on the ass by a stranger, with nothing to my name. Not even a name. It got worse from there. And then, because I chose wisely my time and place of birth—not to mention my sex and race—it got better. I started with nothing, and I still have most of it left. What’s not to like?”—Guy McPherson
By Guy McPherson
“Get busy living, or get busy dying.”— The character Andy Dufresne, “Shawshank Redemption”
SAN ANTONIO Belize—(Weekly Hubris)—April 2017—I’m frequently asked if I’m worried about running out of money. Although I put essentially all my “retirement” funds into a homestead I don’t occupy, and although that leaves me with very little fiat currency, and although I’m far too young to die from “natural” causes, I’m not worried about running short on money before I draw my last breath.
I try to keep in mind how I came into the world: struggling for air, and then crying. Covered in somebody else’s blood, slapped on the ass by a stranger, with nothing to my name. Not even a name. It got worse from there. And then, because I chose wisely my time and place of birth—not to mention my sex and race—it got better. I started with nothing, and I still have most of it left. What’s not to like?
For me, non-monetary issues are far more pressing than fiat currency. These are the “things” I fear will run short during my days on Earth. Few of the items on my bucket list are things.
Foremost on my list is love. Few people can survive without love. I’m not one of them. I live where I do for love. That love is manifest at several levels:
- Love of being out of the United States, my country of birth.
- Love of life, which is detested by nearly every consumer in my country of birth.
- Love of living, instead of making a living.
- Love of a lifestyle, in my case agrarian anarchy (vs. the disaster capitalism preferred in my country of birth).
There’s more, of course, most of it even less worthy of mention in this space than the preceding information
After love comes a planet habitable for humans. Or maybe I have the first two issues reversed. There is no love without a habitable planet. And there is no point inhabiting a planet without love. Living without love is no life at all.
What else to do? I have plenty of advice for myself and others. Most falls under the category of love, broadly defined. Inspired by “Stage 7,” my fuck-it list is considerably longer than my bucket list.
- Remain calm: Nothing is under control.
- Pursue excellence, however defined.
- Pursue love, whatever that means to you.
- Decommission nuclear facilities.
- Dismantle industrial civilization.
- Be kind, beginning with yourself.
- Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable, a task assigned to newspapers by Charles Fanning (and obviously ignored by the corporate, mainstream media).
I’m very short on money. We’re very short on time. I’ll not use my limited funds to extend my run into the future. Instead, I’ll use my limited time in pursuit of love.
Perhaps the idea is crazy. In a culture gone mad, this alone makes it worthy of consideration.
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