Wassail, traveler, and welcome to The Gable Grey -- a place of retreat, of renewal, and of resistance: a tree-shaded refuge in Dark Times. Now pass the threshold, and rest from journeys! For a cold wind is blowing; and here, if you wish, you may hear tidings of the world without...

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday...

Sunday here at the Gable Grey, a day usually given over to relaxation and minor yard-work and various acts of Errantry on behalf of my long-suffering wife, and on again-off again consultations with the holo-oracle about the week ending, with a mind towards the one ahead.  From my vantage point among the trees here, things look bleak in the world without.

The last week ended very badly for Wall Street, with the DJA closing below the magic 10,000 mark for the first time in months.  This was due to a number of factors, of course, including a less than stellar jobs report, and some words from the Prime Minister of Hungary (!), who let slip the fact that his country -- a member of the EU, but not one that adopted the Euro -- most likely has at best only a slim chance of not defaulting on its national debt.  This had the effect of further pushing the Euro into Eu-rine territory.  Hungary can now be added to the growing list of PIIGS nations, which comprise Portugal, Ireland, Italy, Greece, and Spain.  As one writer put it, throw the 'H' in there and you get PIGSHI.  (Watch out, Turkey.)

The Gulf of Goo continues its sorry story.  Mike Ruppert over at the From the Wilderness Blog wrote that he thinks the catastrophe could bring down the U.S. Government.  That may be a bit far-fetched, but I think it could change the political landscape of the Gulf states.  Case in point:  our own governor here, Haley Barbour, stated that the gusher has only been at worst a "minor inconvenience" to the State of Mississippi.  Sure, Haley.  We'll see how much of a minor inconvenience it will be for you in the next election.  (Who the hell am I kidding?  He'll win by a landslide, again.  Mississippi deserves nothing less.)

As is usual for me on Sundays, and on Monday mornings (while I wait for Kunstler to post his usual Monday morning essay), I wonder if this week will be, definitively, the End of the World As We Know It (TEOTWAWKI).  Based off the events of last week, I would advise any and all Isaiahs out there to keep your ear to the ground, nose to the wind, and eyes on the skyline (all at the same time, of course).  Like as not it will only be yet another slow, grinding week in the slow collapse of western industrial civilization; but events could come to a head right quick. 

I've been feeling a lot like Viggo Mortensen's character in the film 'The Road,' who basically watches the Shit Hit the Fan, in increments, from inside his house.  (It's a great film adaptation of the cheery book by Cormac McCarthy.)  Like him, too, I am trying to adapt to a harsh reality; and like him, I have not given up to despair.  I will be ordering another book soon, Sacred Demise by Carolyn Baker.  Ruppert recommended it.  Like John Wesley, Rawles over at SurvivalBlog, Ruppert believes strongly in spiritual strength to help individuals get through this transition to post-industrial society; unlike the devoutly Christian JWR, however, Ruppert's journey, with the help of Baker's book, incorporates elements from many major beliefs, including Eastern philosophies and indigenous cultures, as well as Christianity.  This is more palatable to my near-atheist sensibilities, which have been wooed of late by the Druidic magic of John Michael Greer and my own pagan tendencies.  I look forward to Baker's book.  Maybe it will become a key guide in walking a sacred path up the Dark Mountain of un-civilization.  Or is it down?...

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Whiles carried o'er the iron road,
We hurry by some fair abode;
The garden bright amidst the hay,
The yellow wain upon the way,
The dining men, the wind that sweeps
Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps --
The gable grey, the hoary roof,
Here now -- and now so far aloof.
How sorely then we long to stay
And midst its sweetness wear the day,
And 'neath its changing shadows sit,
And feel ourselves a part of it.
Such rest, such stay, I strove to win
With these same leaves that lie herein.

-- William Morris, from
"The Roots of the Mountains"