I believe in the power of a message. I was born during a time where my parents were producing a christian childrens’ magazine. They only did it a few years but I can tell it made a huge impact in their lives, to spread a message they truly believed needed to be sent. So I love nostr, I love Bitcoin, never stop.

When my Sister graduated from undergrad, my Father yelled out , “Debt-Free!” He understood how important it was, but no one else did at the time.

Any meal is a good meal. Learned through my father, writing for our family.

Mutual funds, stocks, bonds, and derivatives, forex value prop: debt slaves owe half their pay in taxes and we hold a gun to the majority of the world’s population. Number to up. Bitcoin value prop: we use math and incentives to draw the right people and use their brains and work to snowball into prosperity for everyone.

Anybody got about $300 Billion cuckbucks laying around to buy Bitcoin and instigate the supply shock?

The dollar is not money. It’s just a currency. It’s not designed to be a good store of value, and people are harmed financially when they think that it is and try to save in dollars. The dollar isn’t even really a good currency since, well, it can be confiscated and controlled at the whims of banks and governments who do not have your best interest at their heart. At best, the dollar is like electrical wiring that connects batteries, but which is often unreliable and contentious.

If you can’t handle the truth Then well I guess you get what lies brings.

It ain’t me. It ain’t me. I ain’t no fortunate one. Dome inherit star spangled eyes that send you down to war. And when you ask how much should we give They only ask for moar moar mosr.

And I pray, oh my god do I pray I pray every single day For a revolution.

GM Thinking about human history. Bitcoin is hope. Bitcoin or slavery. Enjoy the freedoms you have, they were hard-won, and aren’t guaranteed to continue.

Ihad a good talk with my old man about incentives, taxes, and what different age groups can handle, funding wars, etc. We understand each other pretty well. GN

I realized today that my last post yesterday included a word that would be offensive to some people. I apologize for that. I hope everyone has a good night.

More about the vietnam war “Chaplain xxx would sometimes schedule chopper flights to non-engineer sites on Sunday afternoons, supposedly my only half day off during the week. The only thing good about these trips was that the air was much cooler at the flying altitudes than the 100˚ heat on the ground, but on several occasions, they only got us in trouble. One Sunday afternoon, the chaplain decided we needed to fly to a special forces (green beret) outpost up north, apparently unannounced. As we approached the landing pad just outside the outpost, mortar rounds started exploding a few feet away. Coincidentally, as we landed, a cargo plane landed on the short airstrip near the helipad, saw the incoming mortars, quickly turned the plane around at the end of the runway near us, opened the rear door, goosed the plane sending the cargo crashing on the ground, and beat it out of there in one fast motion. Impressive piloting! Why we didn’t take off out of there, I will never know, but instead we landed. A second lieutenant green beret came driving out to the pad as fast as he could under fire, picked us up, and drove us the few yards to the outpost. In the short trip to the outpost, the lieutenant in no certain terms cussed out my lieutenant colonel chaplain and asked why in the world were we there. They had been under mortar attack during the night before and sporadically that day. The gooks should have had that pad bracketed. While being driven into the outpost under fire, I had this sick delight seeing my lifer Lieutenant Colonel chaplain being cussed out by a second lieutenant green beret infantry soldier. We got into the outpost and quickly into a bunker where the green berets began exchanging mortar fire with the gooks who were on the side of a nearby mountain. After about five minutes of mortar exchange, a big explosion with a ball of fire and smoke rattled the mountainside and the shelling immediately stopped. One of our mortars had apparently hit the gooks’ ammo supply and probably took some gooks with it. We were immediately invited to leave the premises and, if it wasn’t too much trouble, take two wounded Vietnamese with us to the hospital in Long Bien, plus a civilian that had been exposed to the bubonic plague. I was about a month past-due on my plague shot, so the first thing we did when we arrived at the infirmary at Long Bien was get a plague shot.”

My Father was drafted into the Vietnam war. Below is from a book he wrote this year for out family. “During my time in Vietnam, I saw first-hand honorable, courageous helicopter pilots, infantry men and other soldiers, most of whom were draftees who didn’t want to be there in the first place, let their country put them in harm’s way, heading into dangerous situations every day, but when they returned home, it was not to a hero’s welcome. Most who returned home alive like myself, returned unceremoniously, mostly ignored. Some returned with boos and got spit on. The public in general had turned against the war and took it out on the GIs when they should have taken it out on the politicians. In typical fashion, the media hyped rare situations like the Mi Li incident, and some portrayed the lot of us as baby killers. Isn’t it ironic that most left-wing “liberals”, the ones most deeply involved in pro-abortion politics, were the ones yelling “baby killer.” The fact was, most of us were peace loving citizens that answered the call of duty when required and just wanted to get back home alive. Many of us Nam vets have absolutely no respect for President Jimmy Carter, who granted amnesty to those who fled to Canada to avoid military service. Carter turned guys like me into a bunch of unappreciated chumps. I understand why some people fled to Canada, but they should have lived out the consequences of their decision as refugees in Canada. There are untold thousands of drafted GIs who came back injured in body and mind, and 57,000 whose names are on a wall in Washington D. C. who put on their big-boy pants and served their country against their will, gave the ultimate sacrifice, and didn’t make it back alive. Mine is only one story out of thousands. I’m sure there are many thousand stories worse than mine. I’m certain PTSD has been severely under-diagnosed in Vietnam vets. Guerilla warfare, where you don’t know who your enemy is but he is all around you, and you never know when or where he might strike, wears heavily on your mind. It’s easy for paranoia to set in. I hadn’t given much thought to this until I wrote this chapter because I have been trying to forget for 50 years that I was ever in Nam, but I now realize that I came close to potential death several times by just about every method you could in war, but came out without a scratch. I escaped bullets flying around when we drove into a fire fight. I survived being mortared on a helipad at a special forces outpost that had been shot at all night and day before. I survived a scorpion sting. I missed out on running over a road mine and getting ambushed on the road by minutes. I survived what I thought was a sure helicopter crash in the Delta. And, I survived a close call with potential friendly fire during an ambush mission. All without a scratch. Truly, God was watching over me while I was losing my faith. I know Mom was praying for me. I’m pretty sure Dad was, too. In fact, I think he made sort of a deal with God. The week I came home from Nam, Dad quit smoking, cold turkey.”

Good wvening Please… breathe in the air, don’t be afraid to care.

My grandmother’s father died in a farming accident. So my grandmother learned subsistence fishing. It’s probably why my Father learned to fish in his youth and worked his whole life to become an expert in gill flukes, w respiratory parasite class. Shit happens, but linking work to survival isn’t any error.

I’m not sure what I saw in my dirst baby mame but she’s from Malaysia. Maybe she woshes she isn’t in US working her ass off for the kid. 2nd wife is from Philippines. Damn I must have yellow dever after the socoalism bug in US. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a highly sensitive person.

Power’s out in my home. I’m about to find out how good my insulation is. Kinda fels like that with fiat all the time too. Stay safe and warm frens.

My old man wrote a book about our family history so I’m listening to it. I know it’s talking about wheat farming, but this stock voice makes it sound like weed farming. GN