Drill baby drill. It is more than just a shrill. It’s a strategy. That works. On the gridiron or on the oil fields drilling keeps the skills sharp. It keeps the juices flowing. Ever ready for the maneuvers of those whom would mean you harm. We can eat our corn for fuel but can they eat their fracking sand? The Mideast won’t have to since they are all heading for Europe. Out of the frying pan and into the fire? Nationalism is alive and growing north of the great sea. Oustlanders are fertilizer for the ancient movement in the bowels of Europe. Keeping it ever so regular.
They said drill baby drill wouldn’t work back when peak (a boo) oil had the world supposedly running out of the preferred fuel. Now the world is running out of places to store the excess oil. Oil is getting cheap again. Hurting only the fools who rushed in thinking that low prices wouldn’t be the result. The majors will swoop in and buy it up for pennies on the dollar. Suspect in all of this inflation then deflation is the fact that inflation corresponds to Quantitative Easing while deflation began as soon as QE stopped. Almost as if money rushes to tangible property. Only to rush back out again. It seems that what they call money attaches itself to some thing.
Do you suppose the powers that be already knew these precepts? Do you think they may have planned it? How many went along to get along? Was China their tool? Along with the Press that puts the squeeze on the sheeple. Judas goats that lead the lambs to slaughter. Then become the scapegoats that carry all those sins back out into the wilderness. To be resurrected by the shepherd kings when they come back in from the steppes to rule “anew”. As the Good Book says, “Nothing new under the sun.”
A bottle of rye for Christmas. The good stuff, formerly from Iowa. I quit buying it when I learned they weren’t even bottling it anymore here in Iowa. But by then I had drunken my way through the twin deaths of first my father in the spring, then my son in the late summer of 2010. Not my idea of good memories. I had a few drinks with the bearer of the gift.
A relaxing few days in the hot springs healing in Colorado. A very scary trip over the great divide but well worth it. Even if we picked the most dangerous pass to transverse. Nine miles down grade in low gear through heavy snow behind a loaded semi truck. After fifteen hours on the road. Reminded me of the harvest, and why I was there. My slice of paradise here on earth.
I may move there permanently. South central Colorado is small town enough to be attractive to a life long farmer from south west Iowa. I ran into many Iowans both times I’ve traveled there for the hot springs. The local paper was loaded with want ads for jobs. There was even one for a ranch hand fixing fences, no experience with cattle and horses necessary but helpful.
Hard to leave a place with hot springs to come back to one without. Very hard.