The Elder Goth - \m/

I've noticed an unsettling truth about life very seldom included in the after school special Canon. The older I get the closer to death I feel the reaper's shadow shortens a little bit more with news of someone's passing. When I was a kid people seldom died, the aged relative or family friend either from illness, old age or accident. I equated death equal sadness whether our family pet died or that nice old lady living next door. Children are resolute, I've been upfront and honest about death with my own children. Adults get weird about telling children about dying, my son took a learning experience when we slaughtered chickens on our farm, he ran from the headless zombie chicken that jumped up and chased him across the yard. Death doesn't bother him, zombies bother him a little bit. Learning experience for me was processing death, the older you get the more funerals you attend. 

Grief is usual, it's different for everyone, for me it's three types of grief, each grieve the loss different. Family. The passing of a parent wad the hardest for me.Family death is lasting, the absence of someone who was part of your life. I grieve the loss of my animal family the same way. They are or support structure, knowledge resource, our tribe. Your best childhood memories involve your family.

Friends. Death of friends is tragic grief, I've lost some good friends to mysterious workings of the living universe. The tragedy is sudden, unexpected or confusing. Suicide to end to unspoken pain. Random accident, I don't subscribe to 'when it's your time, it's your time' philosophy, that's not Random. Friendship bonds society. Your best memories as an adult involve your friends.

Our heroes. Everyone wants to leave a lasting legacy to show their impact on the world. We hero worship these people that we never personally interact with as we do family and friends yet they are an equal and meaningful part of our lives. Authors, musicians, filmmakers, artists, the occasional philanthropist, scientists and sporting legends. They reach across time and space in an instant. I remember the first time I heard Black Sabbath on vinyl, I remember when I become a HulkManiac trying to rip through my shirt because damn it brother what were you gonna do when hulkamania came running over you. The recent loss of Hogan and Ozzy hit hard. The icons of my childhood have passed on, may they rest in peace. 

It's like that with death, we grieve, we cry, we appreciate, we remember. 

I believe we are cosmic energy of the known universe. We come from it and we return to it. I also believe there is a Cafe at the end of the universe and we all meet up there.

Memory is the celebration of all who came before us, technology is rather useful for remembering. I have albums crammed full of photographs, hand written letters, ticket stubs, receipts and tokens, certificates and passports. This is how I honour and remember my family and friends.

In equal capacity I have shelfs full of books, DVD titles, CD and vinyl albums, various shirts and merch. This is how I honour and remember my heroes.

Now as I age I'm in the transition from only old people die to I'm attending more funerals than birthday parties. My inner child tears up when the news breaks, my outer adult cherishes the moments more. The digital age allows us instant access to those special moments. We share our memories with the world online forever.

Lest we forget. Thank you and rest easy 🤘🏻

Homesteading - 06

Galahad, pure-hearted, Noble and selfless. It's a name that embodies the ideals of virtue and is often used to describe someone who is morally upright and devoted to high ideals. I bestow this hònour upon my animal family when they fall in the line of duty. Most recent was Aslan, my big daft orange dog and faithful friend slain the line of duty by poison administered by the cowardly hand of my enemy with intent to do harm not against me but against my neighbour. This is the truth about farming in South Africa. These crimes are racially motivated and hate driven. I'm not promoting the incident, read the opinions on social media about the state of farming in South Africa. I'm expressing my anger,  I'm angry my faithful friend lay slain, I'm angry I was 30 minutes too late to catch the cowardly black bastards in the act. I understand John Wick's motivation. The plot device for the franchise is John annihilating an evil empire because they killed his dog. They stole his car, trashed his house, assaulted him and disturbed his retirement. Shit happens but the paradigm shifts when they kill his dog. The dog lives, everyone walks away and life goes on but they slay the dog, shit gets real with a pencil, a fucking pencil and everyone dies. 

In reality do I want revenge?

Am I going to hunt these cowardly Africans down seeking retribution, an eye for an eye to restore balance?

No, I want reckoning. I want a peaceful coexistence. I want tolerance and understanding, mutual respect and global equality where everyone can live their lives where the odds of hardship are half favorable. Black people can't comprehend these wants. Their want is to lie, cheat and steal. Their want is driven by a social inferiority they are too lazy to overcome and seek out successt and achievement because they're too preoccupied blame racial persecution and historical oppression for their failings. I'm not a radical supremist, I'm sharing my perspective, my white person perspective. You wake up to the new Red Dawn. Your country, a modern failed state, has been taken over by communist-solcialist alliance. Without invasion, without show of force the people of your country were gradually coerced into compliance by the lies and manipulation of a greedy, corrupt government power that sold the country to her enemies, stealing her natural resource, lying to her people and cheating freedom. Racial division is the driving force fuelled by socio economic poverty facilitated by the gradual systematic deconstruction of state captured supply service. People are fearful, indifferent or hateful. Opposition is failing to change the status quo and tries in vain to turn negativity into positivity. The country stands on the brink of war. International sanctions and calls for criminal justice further pressure a frail state waiting for its inevitable collapse into chaos. You stand opposed, a persecuted minority. Affected by the racial hatred and disappointed by the proposal opposition. Your choices become limited to fight or flight. You have allies in the West offering asylum, allies in the East offering safe passage but your plight is spread globally. Factions to the North battle their own oppression, religious war rages on in the central interior spreading terrorist uprising in sleeper cells elsewhere. You are the white minority being reduced to extinction by brown culture, black washing, woke orientation and extreme religious fundamentalism. You have turned to the power of knowledge, studied the origin of a shared cultural root to determine the single shared origin of Europe, Viking. Ancient traditions, ancient culture, ancient practices of the ancient world. Your blood is the blood of your ancestors. There is no one world people, no united global population. Factionalism rules the modern age. Controls instituted and reinforced by the growing awareness and expansion to erase global white ethnicity. It is awakening, realizing the collapse of society is imminent and current and reverting back to ancient ways of advancing civilization. It's a numbers game. Waking up to the fact you are the pinnacle of the pyramid because of your ability to think in a broad spectrum, your ability to show Empathy, show compassion, be responsible and respectful, uphold virtue and honour and exercise common sense. 

Feeling conflicted yet?

Feeling uncomfortable?

Feeling guilty? 

That's the scratching at the back of your mind telling you this nutjob is right. Listen to your instincts, they're not telling you to take a rifle to a book depository to wait for a shot at some political person so you and vindicate shouting Sic semper tyrannis on TikTok streams. It's telling you to think for yourself, be your own person. Question the world we live in. This incident changed my perspective. It reaffirmed I am a decent human being wanting to do right with the universe in my lifetime. It confirmed the evil of indifference thrives in humanity. It confirms there is purpose for all of us should we decide. 

What next for this oppressed white farmer - boer from South Africa. Do I seek asylum in the USA. Emigrate to live with family in Australia or England. Pack it in and give up farming?

Maybe. Defeat and surrender makes the tyrannical racist ANC government feel like they won something, such a pity they cannot comprehend what a Pyrrhic victory. I carry on. More jaded, more disillusioned, more divided but I'm still here disliking people even more than before. Tripping the switch to wake everyone up, deal with your triggers on your own time I'm not here to unplug people one at a time. There's you and then there's everyone else and there's me, sitting on the front porch of my homestead drinking my morning coffee, broomstick under arm, waiting for whatever to come my way. 

The Elder Goth - TMI

Is there a point of TMI between people in conversation?

I'm usually the quiet figure people gravitate towards for near confession level of conversation, my facial expression at rest must give off a trusting aura because strangers, not always strange people, tell me things about their lives I don't feel I need know. Not to be rude or insensitive but I don't need to nor care to know your personal problems, domestic turbulence, state of your emotional triggers or how well aunt Agnes is doing after her triple bypass appendectomy. Maybe this is an subconscious side effect of social media, maybe it's all the synthetic animal hormones in vegan foods, whatever causes this peculiar social interaction often leaves me asking just what is too much information. My response to these interesting people is polite and of few words. I encounter all sorts, mostly religious campaigners. So am I broadcasting empathetic hypersensitivity or does my face at rest attract all matter of snake oil salesmen?

Don't get me wrong I find people interesting, people amid in the minority in the universe expanse of assholes, assholes aren't interesting despite any fetish for extraterrestrial anal probing. I am likely on the low end of the HSP / Empathy scale, more of a don't care to know philosophy when someone spins their tale, pitch their hustle or try convince me how I need Jesus in my life.  

So, why this requirement to gush out information to fill an awkward silence with verbal diarrhea?

Fear. What they fear, not my place to know.