The real election question

Yes, I’m an American. No, I didn’t vote in 2016. Or 2012. Or 2008. I honestly don’t remember about 2004, the year both major candidates were related, and belonged the small and secretive Skull and Bones cult at Yale. That might be when I decided to call it quits. Also, there was the “convenient” discrediting of paper ballets in the 2000 election, which allowed easily-rigged electronic voting machines to take over.

After 9-11 (which my wife called as an inside job before the second WTC building [of several, not just two] disappeared, causing our part-time-police cleaning lady to walk out of our house, never to return), I began looking to alternative sources of information. Some sites were misleading, some bogus, some with unstated agendas, but a picture began to emerge: the official story was obviously a lie,¹ and the mainstream media, 90% of which is owned by six corporations,² was spouting that lie. Over and over.

So as the world reeled in shock yesterday at the US election results, I was shocked, too, to realize how many people still consider mainstream media a reliable source of information.

They reeled in shock because ‘everyone knew’ that the candidate whose supporters filled stadiums, sometimes several in one day, didn’t have a chance against the candidate that couldn’t fill a high school gym. And how, pray tell, did ‘everyone know’ that? Glad you asked:

Huffington Post propaganda

New York Times hoax election poll

Washington Post propaganda

(24 October 2016)

So the real election question: will you continue to regard these people as ‘experts who somehow got it wrong’ and accept their crocodile tear ‘apologies’ as genuine, or will you begin to see them for what they are, people paid to lie to you?

This is not a political question. It is more important than that.

¹the truth remains elusive, but an evidence (not hypothesis) based investigation yields fascinating results
² based on comments from people from and in various countries, this lack of media diversity is not just in the US

Trump districts — Oh sorry, we’ll do better next time, honest – NYT

election fraud cartoon

Beach sunset

Blueberries! and more

Blueberries in Uruguay

In addition to fresh (harvested before your eyes) affordable organic produce, Saturdays in November include a chance to pick blueberries.

My haul of blueberries in Uruguay

In a half hour or so, I had three kilos (6.6 pounds). Cost? Just under US$2 per pound.

Neighbor cutting our field, Uruguay

Checking in our nearby chacra, I met a neighbor I don’t know cutting our field using the tractor of our immediate neighbor, who I gave access for his cows. I was expecting to borrow his tractor and do it myself, but seeing the grass, I realize it’s much to his cows’ benefit. What he’s cutting is some kind of nasty brushy weed that the cows ignore. The grass they will like.

Reminded me of the time I couldn’t fix the fence.

The sky last night

Tranquilo.

Sick trees?

On our dog walk today, Syd pointed out how unhealthy many trees looked — should they appear like this in spring? I agreed. The more you look, the more you see. And those strange hazy skies? Syd thinks it’s the result of aerial shpraying, as a certain German we know insists.

After I got home, I took my camera as I walked to the feria (street market). Wow! Lots of unhappy-looking trees, indeed.

Damaged/unhealthy trees, Atlántida, Uruguay

Right across the street from us.

Damaged/unhealthy trees, Atlántida, Uruguay

Then, in the feria, I ran across Pilar, host of blueberry picking and the feria orgánica (see Atlántida Events in the menu bar above), and asked her.

Yes, she said, the wind has been horrible, regaling me with stories about her torn-up shade arbor, piles of plums on the ground and lost blueberries as well (I’ll see on Saturday morning) because of the recent winds. She says the wind damages branches, allows contaminación and hongos (fungus) and insects to invade the weakened parts of the tree.

Pilar knows her stuff. She advises the Uruguayan government on hemp and marijuana production (former promising, latter disappointing because the chosen distributors — pharmacies — apparently want nothing to with marijuana. Hmm, less profitable than pharmaceuticals? Or something else?).

Anyway, weather’s getting weird, and it may be the result of some “geoengineering.” But for now I’m going with weather, and not aerosols, for the damaged trees. We simply have nothing here like the shpraying I so clearly saw in North Carolina, Spokane, and later developing in Mexico.

Like surfing in chocolate

Here’s Benji, running out of the surf with our favorite stick. But wait, what’s that out in the water?

dog, surfer background, Atlántida, Uruguay

A surfer, one of six or so.

dog, surfers, Atlántida, Uruguay

What they saw in these surf conditions is quite beyond me. The longest ride I saw lasted perhaps fifteen seconds. This is not a hot surf spot (ever). However, these guys (I assume) have probably known each other since elementary school like Jesse’s friends. It was no doubt great fun for them, with lots to bullshit about later over mate or a beer.

surfer , Atlántida, Uruguay

And meanwhile, I’m throwing a stick into the surf, over and over. Which is fun. Kind of. Maybe I should try surfing. I probably wouldn’t crack a couple ribs, as I did with a skateboard in my 40s, nor separate my shoulder as I did with snowboarding in my 40s (both after we became parents of a 12 year old orphaned boy in North Carolina). But it would not work without friends.

The sun, which emerged suddenly in late afternoon, allowed another shot of the erosion of the dunes from the recent storm.

eroded dunes after storm, Atlántida, Uruguay

I regret the quality of these pics — when I did the “spooky sunset,” I shot 2 stops down, and forgot to reset the exposure. These are re-exposed through my non-Photoshop “Photoshop.”

Spooky sunset

Spooky sunset, Atlántida, Uruguay

OK, Halloween was yesterday, but according to my wife, in Mexico the Day of the Dead includes today, so….

Weird weather lately. Evening yesterday we drove into Montevideo for her eye tests, for vision problems resulting from going abruptly to 3,800 meters (12,500′) when we flew to Cusco, Peru, in July. (We have lived at sea level for seven years.) Left eye: she has had damage to it before going back to 1973, but superficial, not macular “puckering” (I’m serious). For a little over USD 100 we got very sophisticated tomographic tests done with fancy image printouts. I don’t quite understand it all, but as usual — here — they hand you the results you have paid for. Just as you go away with the x-rays or MRI scans or whatever here. Because you paid for them, they’re yours. ¡Que concepto!

Halfway into Montevideo, we experienced a brutal and unusual hail storm — deafening, and no shelter to pull into. I was grateful the windshield didn’t break! But in fact the metal body of the car wasn’t dented either. So I guess it wasn’t that bad.

In the midst of it, however, I could only assume damage was being done.

And then it was over, and everything was sweetness and light again.

Benji’s 4 seconds of fame

Tiranos TembladTV posted four days ago its first Summary of Uruguayan events in seven months. The narrator explains that during this period, more than a thousand videos have accumulated, too many to show all. And then — drum roll — starts the summary of events with a dog barking at a balloon (1:40).

In case you’re new here (or to refresh your memory), here’s where that clip came from (added long after Syd’s comment):

The Summary is fun to watch all the way through. Even if you don’t understand the narration in Spanish, you’ll get the drift. There are a few bits in English.

So — if one dog year equals seven human years, Benji should have gotten 2.14285714285714 minutes (128.5714285714284 seconds) instead of 4 seconds. But the clip I posted originally was only 24 seconds long, and it was the “lead story” here, so good on ya, Benj. You’ve still got potential years of silliness ahead to claim your remaining 124.5714285714284 seconds of fame.

Beach after the storm

Our beach, after the storm that rendered it impassable a couple days ago.

Beach, Atlántida, Uruguay, after the big storm of 2016-10

Lots of trash, very wide, and where the dunes gently sloped, walls.

Beach, Atlántida, Uruguay, after the big storm of 2016-10

I didn’t walk up near the dunes, since a certain dog wants me throwing a stick into the water the entire time, but some of the cuts appear 3 m (10 ft) high.

Dead crab on beach, Atlántida, Uruguay, after the big storm of 2016-10

An unusually large dead crab — shell probably 12 cm (5″) across.

The storm hit worse, however, farther east.

October 2016 Uruguay cyclone

Fortunately our friends’ house in Aguas Dulces (Sweet Waters seems a tad ironic now) was not harmed, but it is reported that 50 houses were destroyed there. You can see one of them going down in this 12-second video).

Storm, Aguas Dulces, Uruguay, October 2016
Photo source, Aguas Dulces: “In 30 years, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

If you review my photos from Aguas Dulces in June 2015, you’ll sense my fascination with previously abandoned and destroyed habitations. Building at the edge of the sea involves risk.

Our friends had recently spent about USD 10,000 to install a complex system of boulders, plastic sheeting, and sand bags in front of their place to protect it. Had they not, they might not now have their California-dream ocean-front house.

We hope to go back soon with them (invited next weekend but have to hang around here, in hope window installers will show up). Meanwhile, I think I can safely assume that the first picturesque stilted house in my little photo essay will not present another photo op.

Dog-proofing the garden area

I’ve put this off far too long. With destructo-dog I absolutely have to have a fenced garden area. I’m not the most enthusiastic gardener, but I do have a bunch of seeds started, some of which (squash) will require substantial space.

fence-1

Using what I had at the chacra, I cut posts to have 80 cm exposed. I had a roll of 120 cm fence wire already, so I figured I take off the top 40 cm and double it when I ran out of the roll.

fence-2

It was pretty close — 2 meters shy! Had I not made a circular compost bin in the country earlier with the fencing, it would have worked out almost exactly right.

fence-3 — Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise.

Benji, meanwhile, decided this was a nice place to hang out. No more. I trimmed the top 40 cm, leaving spikes, and built a gate. It’s not a pretty fence, and it’s not particularly well made, but it doesn’t have to be. It just has to keep out the dog and cat.

No excuse now.