Symptoms of Decline

The husband had my car up on the lift Saturday to change the oil. He found this:

He said to me, “Did you run over something?”

No. I know exactly how this happened. (It’s a bit of a convoluted story, so bear with me.) Some years ago, all of our mail began being shipped to Missoula to be processed. This was explained to us as being “more efficient,” (?) and because we care about climate change, if I want to send a piece of mail to someone in Kalispell, that piece of mail now makes a 240-mile round trip to Missoula and back. The only way to avoid that nonsense is to take it town and deposit it in the “local mail” box at the post office on Meridian.

Ever since then, if I have local mail—and yes, I do pay bills online, but sometimes contractors need to send hard copies of items to each other—I will make a special trip to the local deposit box at the post office and put it in the box.

I’ve been going through that mailbox drive-through for 20+ years. A few weeks ago, I went through and deposited some mail, then maneuvered out to the street to continue on my way. Unbeknownst to me—I had to drive around the block and come back and look at it to see what had happened—the street has sunk to a level several inches below the drive-through lane.

My car rides low to the ground to begin with. That is rarely an issue, even with all the snow we get here. But that difference in road levels was enough of a precipice, at the correct angle, that I hit it. And I forgot to mention it to the husband.

He assures me it is not structural. Of course, no one would be accountable for the damage even if it were. An apartment complex went up across the street from that post office about four years ago. I wonder if in the process of building it, something happened that caused the road to sink. As the husband noted, that’s usually because water is flowing somewhere that it shouldn’t be.

And now you get a mini-sermon on the decline of empires—and the decline of the American empire, specifically. This sermon has been building for a while.

Nothing works anymore, including people. The economy is a house of cards waiting for a gust of wind. Stuff breaks much sooner than it should. Infrastructure is crumbling, literally. The entire government is corrupt—and don’t tell me that your side is holier than the other, because it isn’t. The president is obviously senile. No one is held accountable for anything. Kids aren’t learning how to read and write, and heaven help us when those kids become the adults in charge. The USPS, certainly no model of fiscal responsibility, thinks that sending our mail to another city to be processed is somehow more efficient than processing it here.

I am constantly surprised at the capacity of human beings to ignore what is right in front of them. (You would think I would have gotten over that surprise, but apparently not.)

Nelsonian Knowledge: The phrase, first referenced as ‘blind-eye knowledge,’ is attributable to Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson, 1st Viscount Nelson, 1st Duke of Bronté (better known simply as Lord Nelson) holding a telescope to his blind eye and claiming to see no ships. —Engineering News

All around me, people are claiming not to see any ships and it is absolutely maddening. Just because you choose to ignore something doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist or isn’t happening. On the other hand, I understand that for many people, acknowledging the current state of affairs would send them around the bend. Denial is a coping mechanism.

The Self-Reliance Festival was held this past weekend in Camden, Tennessee. Nicole Sauce, who hosts the Living Free in Tennessee podcast, posted a clip from SRF on her channel. The speaker is CJ Kilmer, former college professor-turned podcaster. (His Dangerous History podcast is now his full-time means of support.) There is nothing inflammatory or subversive in this clip; he simply lays out historical parallels to what we are seeing now. His talk is about 30 minutes long and well worth watching.

And if you need me, I’ll be over here polishing my tinfoil hat and making sure I can see clearly out of my telescope, because I prefer to be prepared for what is coming at us.