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Written by Erik Stone
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Monday, 26 January 2009 13:04 |
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Throughout human history, there have always been "americans." People who believed that freedom, independence, and hard work, leads to prosperity and happiness.
In Prehistoric times, the land was limitless, and when someone disagreed with their community or were persecuted, they simply left to start their own community. Real Americans did exactly that. They started their own country, and proved their philosophy, by becoming more prosperous in money, strength, and quality of life, than any other country in the world. Over just a few decades, people from other countries, continued to want what Americans had created, so they immigrated to American and abandoned their own countries. Eventually, as life became easier though hard work, freedom, and independence, people started seeing those ideas as having little value, because they were accustomed to them, so they tried what they thought were new ideas. The old concepts of Freedom, independence, and hard work, were replaced with the terms, excentricity, selfishness, and greed. Once the new ideas started, they didn't stop, because the new ideas, regardless of their destructive visions, were exciting and new. Dependence, control, and laziness were rewarded, and the Americans ceased being "american." In the new, converted country, the few americans that managed to disagree with "The consensus", and survive the conversion, escaped, and started their own community . . . except, there isn't anywhere to escape to anymore . . . There is no more "New World."
After all, the current, un-American philosophy is that hard work, freedom, and independence aren't good for anyone, because they are "greedy," "selfish" concepts.
Work hard, create, build, be free, be independent, live happy, prosperous, and I guess . . . run, if you can. These are American values, but what happens when you can't run any longer?
It seems to me, that socialism is as much a part of human nature as violence is, and certainly violence isn't un-American. Socialism, like anger, violence, happiness, or kindness, aren't bad things. They are only bad when they are applied to things that they shouldn't be applied to. Anger when applied to someone who is trying to be kind, is bad, just as happiness is bad when applied to the situation of someone trying to kill you, or just as socialism is bad when it's applied to federal government philosophy. Socialism frequently works well in a family setting, just as individualism works well for children emerging from that setting, but sometimes it doesn't work.
Many people in Scandinavia seem to feel that their mixed, Socialist and Capitalist countries are great, as well as many people in the mixed, Capitalist and Socialist country of the United States. What is it to be American? . . . Socialist?
North America was based on american values, not socialist ones. However, the American trend seems to be slowly continuing down the road of Socialism, which so many others have fallen victim to throughout history, and for which America has been no exception. It seems, even countries founded on un-socialist concepts, still, eventually fall to Socialism, to some extent. Is it possible to change that? Would you want to change that if it were up to you?
Perhaps, part of the human condition is that when "americans" lead a new, prosperous path, socialists must follow to destroy it, or what incentive would the americans have for continued expansion? How would the human race grow? Some believe that without destruction, there can be no creation. To some extent, that must be true. Much of the small, North American Natives' culture was destroyed to have the three hundred million Americans alive today, but much of it had to be preserved as well, since the USA certainly wouldn't exist in its current form if there weren't any Native Americans during colonization.
The final question remains. Where can americans go now? North America has already been settled and taken over by slow Socialist degradation, by foreign Socialists, as well as homegrown Socialists. Where is the new America, where Americans and "americans" can find solace in their temporary escape? Perhaps, now is the time for Americans to band together and consider the John Galt solution. Perhaps that chance was long ago, and now it is gone. Where is the refuge to run to? Will all Americans be killed off, with all the other un-americans who will kill or enslave themselves with their own Socialist-Communist politics, feelings, and policy? No, because new americans will be born from Socialist destruction.
America will probably collapse like all the other great civilizations of history, it's just a matter of when. Buy your guns and boats now, while you still can. |
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Written by Erik Stone
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Friday, 23 January 2009 11:45 |
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Ministry of Transportation describes more accurately the place I decided to go to yesterday, so I could follow "the law." For me, the title conjures up an image of priests engaging in discussion, using platitudes to describe transportation policy. If this image were a reality, I would guess it to be significantly more effective than the reality in existence now. Lucia and I had to go to the National Bank to pay for the fee to get a license plate for my motorcycle. Then we went to the Ministry of Transportation, where we waited in line to talk to a guy named Mario Condori. We showed the fee we paid at the bank, and Mario Condori promptly charged us again. Then we waited in another line for the license plate application. When we got there, he said we didn't have to pay twice and that we should get a refund from Mario Condori, the guy we paid, in the other booth, about 8 feet away. So we waited in line again to talk to Mario Condori, and asked for a refund. Mario Condori said no. We went back to the license plate guy, who said we should talk to a woman in another section. We did, and she said to go back to Mario Condori, and ask him for a refund. We waited in line again and told Mario Condori to give us a refund; he still said no. We went back to the woman, and she said she would come with us this time. She came with us, we all waited in line again. Finally, Mario Condori agreed, but only after he was done with his shift, an hour and a half later, at 2:45pm, 15 minutes before closing. We waited, and were able to catch him at 2:30pm before he escaped with my money. He did refund us, 35 soles, all in one sole coins. Mario Condori should be fired, but then again, who would they hire to replace him? |
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Written by Erik Stone
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Sunday, 25 January 2009 22:52 |
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Yesterday, I went for a nice, long, motorcycle ride, by myself, since Lucia went out to see a movie with some friends. I filled up the tank with 95 octane gas and I found out my bike runs better on 95 octane, than 90. I took the nearest route out of town, and drove straight until I hit the toll booth about 40km away. At the point, I found a really nice, super steep, dirt road, up the side of the hill/mountain. When I got up there, I took some pictures. 
Then I got back on my bike and started driving back. On the way back I made a detour, off-road, over this dirt hill. I had to back down at first, since I didn't have enough speed to make it up the first time. I was feeling pretty good once I made it up, and shortly there after, made it part way down. I stopped part way down, because my road ended with a small river. There wasn't any space to turn around in, so I had to dismount, and push and pull my bike around in the sand until I had it facing back up. There also wasn't enough space for me to gain any momentum up the hill, so I had to drive-run it up the hill. No pictures of this, since I was mostly focused on getting out of the situation I'd put myself in. On the way back I spotted a perfect place to practice some dirt biking. The sand isn't too soft, and it's not too hard. It's a huge area, with tons of jumps and roads and stuff and no people. 
Also, on the way back, after seeing this guy, I realized I could have gotten by fine with just a bicycle . . . If the guy is hard to see, click on the picture, but forgive me, since I took this picture while driving my bike, and with a big truck behind me. The guy is hanging on to the back of the truck, and it pulled him all the way back up the mountain. Nice!
All and all, kind of a boring day, but hey, better than many days since I've been here. |
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Written by Erik Stone
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Monday, 12 January 2009 13:25 |
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Yesterday, I had the rare opportunity to be inside a wine cask. Lucia's, cousin's, husband, Omar, owns a vineyard named Hacienda del Abuelo. We travelled about an hour and a half, and down to 3,750ft, from Arequipa to Omar's hometown, Vitor. Vitor sits in a small valley, where the lush, green farms sit in stark contrast to the tan, dry mountains surrounding it. A small river runs though the valley which various farmers divide up to irrigate their farms. I can't recall a day, or a single month, in my lifetime, that I have danced so much as I did yesterday. We arrived at about 10am, with 13 members of Lucia's family. First, we were given a tour of the vineyard. It was pretty cool to see actual wine grapes growing, instead of just seeing them on the label of some wine bottle. Then, we saw the casks where the wine is fermented. This is where I got to put myself inside an actual wine cask. This is also where the wine "sampling" started. Sampling might not be quite the right word. It started as sampling, and shortly thereafter, became more like guzzling. I mean, how many chances in your lifetime do you get to guzzle wine from a traditional, hollowed out gourd, from the vineyard where it's made, personally from the owner of the vineyard, who's grandfather founded the vineyard in 1921? After the tour, we went to the taberna(tavern) for some appetizers; choclo(Giant Corn), cheese, and bologna sandwich slices. When the music started, even before finishing my appetizers, I was called on to the dance floor. Dancing and wine drinking were the primary activities that consumed most of the next 8 hours that we were there. After several hours, we were served grilled pork chops and potatoes. Without a fork or knife, I ate them the manly, traditional way, with my hands. Peruvians say that it tastes better that way. . . At the end, around 6pm, we all stuffed back into the privately rented van from which we had come, and headed back to Arequipa, at 7,700ft.             
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