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Of Baling Wire, Chewing Gum and Sinking Ships
Of Baling Wire, Chewing Gum and Sinking Ships
By
Cognitive Dissonance
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It sounded like a good idea at the time, ‘the time’ being a drunken outing with the other boys in the crew. The next day everyone would get up real early and head over to the local slip for a morning cruise on Joe’s ‘new’ boat, a 24’ Boston Whaler he picked up for a song from the dealer at the mariner. In between Tequila shots he had raved about the two hundred horse power Mercury outboard motor and the pretty railings and deck fittings. Shaking off the morning hangover I gulped down some coffee and donuts, then headed over to Joe’s place to meet up with the rest of the crew.
Since parking was at a premium at the local slip, we all piled into one car and quickly arrived at the pier. Joe, a novice boater, was beaming from ear to ear as he led us down the narrow walkway to his pride and joy. Being the newest member of the crew I was last in line so I didn’t get a good look at the boat until it was directly in front of me. While the other guys were laughing and carrying on as they climbed aboard I stopped short as the hairs on the back of my neck went into full alert mode.
After giving it a quick once over from the safety of the pier I asked Joe “Well I see the baling wire, so where’s the chewing gum?” Seeing his confused look I pointed to the two marine batteries strapped down to the deck in the back of the boat with miles of rusty baling wire, obvious evidence of electrical shorts having melted each layer of wire before another winding was added. “That’s the way it came when I bought it. It’s supposed to be that way,” he assured me. Right…….
Ignoring the other guys who were hollering at me to just shut up and get my butt in the boat, I pointed to the open bilge hatch and the fact that it was filled to the brim with sea water. “And that,” I asked? Joe glanced down and then snorted. “The automatic pump has a short in it so it fills up overnight. When we get going it empties automatically,” he promised. “It’s designed that way,” he smugly added.
It was decision time for this landlubber. While Joe turned his attention to his guests as they stowed their gear and popped the morning’s first beers, I had a few more seconds to carefully consider which fork in the road I would take. We have all had at least one these moments at some point in our lives and this was the first for me of what turned out to be many over the next decade or so. In this case it was a freight train that hit me square in the face, but other times it was much more subtle. The question is not just what you do, though that is of course very important, but if you even recognize the decision point to begin with.

The boat was a wreck, something even my inexperienced eye could easily discern. The transom, essentially the back of the boat where the outboard motor is attached, had clearly been severely damaged and just as clearly sloppily repaired. The outboard motor was not attached to the transom by factory clamping hardware, but with two carpenter’s metal clamps, once of which was loose and sagging. That motor was a few nautical miles from coming loose and going overboard.
There was an obvious gasoline leak dripping from one of several repairs to the fuel line and what looked like another gas leak seeping from the bottom of one of the two portable gasoline tanks, both of which were not secured or even safely contained in one area of the deck. Worse, each of the ten gallon gasoline tanks sported several large rusty dents, evidence of many close encounters with hard objects. Incredibly the two marine batteries were ‘secured’ right next to one of the gas tanks, the one that was leaking no less.
Moving a bit forward, there were two large areas along the hull on the starboard side that had recently been patched, one of which was already breaking loose from the pounding of the waves while motoring. God only knows what else was going on under the water line in the way of leaks and structural integrity. Several recessed deck light fixtures and overhead running lights were half hanging out while wires everywhere were hanging loose or simply unconnected. The radio and depth finder were clearly not operable since they were not even connected and the throttle had been jury rigged with some screws and metal brackets. But just like Joe said the upper deck railing had recently been replaced and was brand new and quite shiny.
I could go on, but I had seen enough and for me the decision was obvious. Heading out onto a shallow lake in this death trap was one thing, but heading out onto the wide open Atlantic Ocean was another thing entirely. The problem for me now was how to back out right here, right now, and still save face with the new crew. While I wanted to be accepted by the guys I also wanted to live another day. I could feel my heart racing and my head pound as the pressure ramped up. I needed to choose right now. What to do, what to do?

I’m not sure if it was the hand of providence, last night’s Tequila or the adrenaline surging through my body at that moment as I contemplated death if I were to step foot onto the unsinkable Molly Brown, but my excuse not to board involuntarily pushed its way forward as I suddenly projectile vomited all over the side of the boat. Chance favors the prepared mind, the weak stomach and dumb luck.
The chaos and hollering that followed was music to my ears because the entire crew was screaming at me to get the hell away as they frantically untied the mooring lines and pushed away from the dock, desperate to put distance between me and them lest I let loose another volley of last night’s Tequila and this morning’s fried dough and java. As I turned to leave I heard the big Merc sputter, then fire up while some of the guys threw buckets of sea water on my deposit in a futile effort to wash it away. It was a shame the bilge pump was on the fritz.
My last memory of that moment was of Joe running back and forth from the captain’s chair to the motor at the stern while the rest of the guys settled in, the strong smell of fresh gasoline hanging in the air. I walked the three miles home in a daze, both my head and stomach churning from the close encounter. Since the crew had rejected me for ‘medical’ reasons I was fairly certain I was still on the in. Whether there would still be a crew by the end of the day was much less certain.
As it turned out they did return, though it was not smooth sailing by any stretch of imagination. Setting aside the fact they got ‘lost’ because Joe (who couldn’t read a navigational chart if his life depended upon it……and it did) turned to Port instead of Starboard, everything that could have happened did happen…..and then some. It seemed Joe repeatedly electrocuted himself at the control panel (there’s that pesky short circuit) each time promptly stalling the Merc while smoking the baling wire and batteries.
By now they were out way past the breakwater and into some rough seas, essentially going in circles because the compass was broken and fog had obscured land. Someone at the bar had once told Joe to always turn ‘left’ if you get lost on the ocean and soon enough you will find dry land. Joe may have been stupid but he did know how to follow directions.
They were taking on water but weren’t too worried because as long as Joe, who earned the nickname “Shark” from the boss after this adventure, kept the boat moving forward the bilge would empty automatically. After all it was designed that way. However after losing power for the third time and now unable to restart, they began to slowly sink, that damn bilge pump coming back to haunt them once again.
Somehow they managed to attract the attention of another boater just before sunset, someone who actually possessed a sea worthy craft. He promptly radioed the US Coast Guard for help, then backed away and put plenty of distance between his craft and the rapidly sinking drunks. Eventually they were unceremoniously towed to the nearest mariner around 3 AM courtesy of the US taxpayer, only to finally sink 100 yards from the dock. Their three hour tour almost turned into another Gilligan.
I learned of their escapades late the next day when once again we all gathered at Joe’s house, this time to commiserate the ‘accident’ while rolling around in all the gory details like a dog in his feces. I was declared ‘lucky’ I had ‘missed’ the boat; interestingly no mention was ever made of my safety concerns or my ‘medical’ issues. Joe vowed revenge upon the mariner owner who sold him the boat of death, though under light questioning he reluctantly admitted he had bought it ‘as is’, thus the reason for the great price.

Now safely on dry land and once again liquored up, in hindsight the boat’s problems were readily apparent and glaringly obvious. Sadly it was all chalked up to bad luck and an even worse boat with absolutely no consideration given to carelessness, hubris, alcohol or gross human error. There were plenty of scapegoats roasted at that gathering, though none of them happened to have been on the actual boat. Will wonders never cease?
As I listened to the various stories and the heckling and joshing back and forth as each guy related their own version of the day’s events, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if I had boarded the boat and my 250 lbs of beef had been added to the volatile mix? A quick mental calculation told me I equaled 32 gallons of sea water by weight, a drop in the bilge from one point of view, the tipping point to an earlier sinking from another. At least the crew hadn’t rejected me for being a coward or pussy. I’d rather be known for a weak stomach than for weak nerves.
As previously mentioned over the next decade there were several more decision points similar to this one as I entered, and then passed through, my own period of peak insanity. And while I remember them all too some degree or another, this one is prominent in my mind as the pivot point that made all the others possible. Sometimes despite our poorest efforts we survive our own stupidity and live another day. But to this day I sometimes wonder if I would have had the guts to actually say “No” if my projectile vomiting had not saved me from crossing the Rubicon.
The similarities between the true story above and the world today are in my opinion glaringly obvious. The ship(s) of state are a complete mess with nearly every private and public institution structurally deficient, their formerly seaworthy hulls severely damaged and undermined by the very same people tasked with managing the systems. Economic fluids are leaking everywhere with market disconnections and short circuits the norm.
Regardless of the reasons why the boats are not seaworthy and rapidly becoming even less so, this fact seems of little apparent concern to the world’s citizen boaters who feel little can go wrong as long as there are mood altering beverages in the cooler, fiat gas in the can and a central banker at the wheel. Amongst some of the occupants there appears to be a sense of deflated resignation to endure whatever comes their way since they don’t control the ship of state. To counter this lingering repressed despair and depression no opportunity for an emotional buzz derived from mindless entertainment is lost.
The real question isn’t why this condition exists or even how it persists. The pertinent question is far more personal and much more interesting. You are standing on the dock looking down at the death trap as the rest of the crew piles in, mostly because no one is telling them specifically to get out and the herd mentality runs riot with one lamb leading the next to slaughter.
This is your decision point, the proverbial fork in the road, the cognitive gathering place that will change everything from here on in. Not so much because of the actual decision you make, but because you understand that the space/time continuum occasionally squeezes down to a point directly in front of your nose and offers you an opportunity to tickle the beast, then quickly explodes back out to infinity only to repeat the process for the next person in line. You may get a dozen more chances or you might only get one…………and this is it.
So what do you do?

Screw questions of morals or ethics, of right or wrong, good or bad. Lock your ego away and consider your choice with a sober mind and a steady hand. It doesn’t matter who is in the boat and wants you to join them or who is not and tells you you’re an idiot if you do anything other than step back. This is about you and only you. At this very moment your spouse, kids, job, education, family, friends, home, cars and various other toys; none of these people, places and things exist.
While I called the boat a death trap you could quite easily get on, take your trip and return drunk and happy, ready to do it all again the next day and the next and the next. Or you could climb aboard and be sleeping with the fishes within two hours. There is no way to know for sure other than to assess probabilities. And considering the condition of the world today the probability is that sooner or later all hell is going to break loose and the ship of state is going to experience rough waters and a breached hull.
So what do you do?
Maybe I should clarify something here to make this a bit easier for you. I have described the situation as one where you come to a decision point and now face a choice. And I used the story above to illustrate the concept where you walk up to an unseaworthy boat and need to decide if you should board or not. But in fact the situation is quite different. You are not actually waiting to board the rickety ship; you are already on board and have been since the beginning.
That stink filling your nose is the fiat gasoline vapors permeating your cloths and hair. You are exhausted from constantly running on the endless wage slave exercise wheel just to maintain your standard of living, too drunk from consumerism to recognize your own insanity. Your head is woozy and your legs weak from being repeatedly fleeced and shocked by the rigged economic system.
So the question needs to be restated after the premise has been clarified. You have been a micro share owner of this ship of state since birth and have enjoyed many great days and nights out on the sea during the last several decades. But long term capital improvements and even basic maintenance has been deferred, delayed or minimally done for so long now that the infrastructure is no longer sound and the basic structure is well past the point of simple repair.
We are now looking at a complete dry dock overhaul and one or more lost seasons of use as the fundamentals are completely rebuilt. It is no longer a question of if you will lose the ship at sea, and possibly your life with it, but when if you do not take immediate corrective actions.
So what do you do?

Our tendency is to remain seated simply because we believe we are more familiar with the dangers we ‘know’ than those we consider unknown or not very likely. Basically we fall into the previous-investment trap, where we believe all the time, effort and energy expended in the past should be heavily weighted when considering the future. This applies whether we are examining our fiat investment portfolio or our life as we sit ankle deep in cold sea water convincing ourselves if things get really bad we can still get out. Get out to where exactly? In case you have forgotten you are on a boat with just about everyone else.
This is a colossal cognitive bias of the first order skewed towards inaction and the status quo that speaks loudly of Stockholm Syndrome, itself a product of the slave mentality that plagues all of us to some degree or another. No longer a field slave laboring day after day in the hot sun, after decades of hard work and subservient loyalty we are now more comfortable kitchen staff, stable hand or possibly the personal man-servant to the master or one of his kin. With this promotion came perks and privileges along with the promise of even more if we kept our nose clean and continued our hard work.
The promise of even more to come, along with all that we did to ‘earn’ the already bestowed privileges, becomes an anchor around our necks when the boat sinks, propelling us even faster to the bottom. The irrefutable fact that the thousand times we rode in the boat prior to now without sinking helps convince us that the next time, and the time after that, won’t be much different. So there we sit, now calf deep in dirty bilge water, the sheen of gasoline shimmering on the surface, the sickening smell of refined hydrocarbons thick in our nose and cloths, the engine sputtering and shaking in its mount, bare live wires dangling to the left and to the right, dark clouds on the horizon, rough seas dead ahead.
We can easily imagine all the work it took to get here while never clearly visualizing exactly what ‘here’ now is. The promises of the master, used as currency to compel and reward our willing participation, can no longer be fulfilled since the economic system that is the ultimate delivery vehicle for those promises is about to sink beneath the waves.
But so many of those who came before us did make it to the Promised Land, and we worked so hard to faithfully follow in their footsteps, careful to adhere to all the rules and skirt all the storms. Now that we are so close, our promised reward within sight, we desperately wish to believe that with just a few more rotations of our well worn routine, just a little more hard work, is all that is needed to achieve our goal. So close, so very very close.
So we remain seated in water now up to our butts, a constant low voltage tingle coursing through our body as the now submerged batteries continue to discharge, the motor long since fallen off the damaged transom, the gas cans spilling the last of their contents into the stinking pool of debris filled sea water now nearly up to our chest. The bad news is the wind and waves are really picking up now; the good news is there on the horizon we can see the Promised Land.
So what do you do?
Cognitive Dissonance
06-30-2014

No Where To Go But Up
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cut to the chase?
.
Tom Waits - Come On Up to the House
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GugzLSbOQE
.
"...
Well the moon is broken
And the sky is cracked
Come on up to the house
The only things that you can see
Is all that you lack
Come on up to the house
All your cryin don't do no good
Come on up to the house
Come down off the cross
We can use the wood
Come on up to the house
Come on up to the house
Come on up to the house
The world is not my home
I'm just a passin thru
Come on up to the house
There's no light in the tunnel
No irons in the fire
Come on up to the house
And your singin lead soprano
In a junkman's choir
You gotta come on up to the house
Does life seem nasty, brutish and short
Come on up to the house
The seas are stormy
And you can't find no port
Come on up to the house
There's nothin in the world
[Chorus]
There's nothin in the world
that you can do
you gotta come on up to the house
and you been whipped by the forces
that are inside you
come on up to the house
well you're high on top
of your mountain of woe
come on up to the house
well you know you should surrender
but you can't let go
you gotta come on up to the house
[Chorus] " ... t,w.
Moby-Dick-Chapter0082
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eut-Q9EVT7o
.
Moby Dick; Ishmael & Queequeg; Elijah prophecy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVK9aaTEWbE
Thank you for a great post.
My take?
I'd love to change the world...
Well, yeah. Risky decisions often depend on one's age and inclination, though. Are you feeling lucky? Maybe. When I was young I backpacked through the Middle East with a girl I'd met at a hostel, and one of the things we did was hitch a ride on a cattle-boat sailing from Iran to Kuwait. I reminisced about it on my personal blog in April 2012 ("Barlow's Cayman": I think it will be available through my ZH profile). We made it safely, obviously, and so did the cattle and crew, but it was a big risk. Life-jackets on an Arab dhow? Oh, please!
to think that in the heart of each
human chest burns a microcosm of the
universe creating sustainable life itself,
light, bones and shadows; it challenges,
informs and can overwhelm the mind. no?
"everything" received or taken must be
returned, that seems to be the law.
.
"...it's only castles burning." n.y.
.
Stan Rogers - Witch of the Westmoreland
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nxls60aYSZA
.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KR2JGJ7i5kg&list=RDKR2JGJ7i5kg#t=0
Is anyone else suddenly getting a gang of 8 ads between the article and comments? It just started this morning. Any idea how to get rid of them? I have ad block.
Yes, same here, FF browser and adblock is not blocking them for some reason.
Making Windows 7 Run Blazingly Fast
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twJk7ymLmfA
Thank You, I alway enjoy your writing and you might enjoy this.
http://www.theguardian.com/environment/earth-insight/2014/jun/19/open-source-revolution-conquer-one-percent-cia-spy
"So what do you do?"
A lot depends on one's age. If you are young with much of your life still ahead of you, get the hell out of this sinking, stinking, rusty old tanker and find some small, peaceful, independent, and self sufficient "ship" on which to reside. If you are old, like me, find a comfortable deck chair, settle back, relax, enjoy the music, and go down with the ship knowing that you have lived the best life, at the best time in history, in the best possible place the world has ever produced.
Stan Rogers - Three Fishers.wmv
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_7pepho8mI
That was really cool. Thanks blindman.
you're welcome and thanks to you and
your other half. stan rogers always
works with the boat, water, human
strength and frailty theme. he died
in a fire on an airplane at 33 years,
an incredible talent.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stan_Rogers
.
Stan Rogers - Song of the Candle
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AVY5bAtbTi4
.
Stan Rogers - Barrett's Privateers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIwzRkjn86w
And yes, to complete the Stan Roger's greatest ever:
NorthWest Passage and The Mary Ellen Carter.
the northwest passage harmonies are
transcendent.
Stan Rogers Sings "The Jeannie C." in One Warm Line (film)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fo70wXXQ2mk
.
"Make and Break Harbour" sung by Stan Rogers (One Warm Line, Documentary)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlV9JJDVlEk
Regardless the apparent condition of the vessel you are about to board, I highly recommend asking the question of where the lifejackets are located and paying close attention to the captains response
Most seasoned 'professionals' (in any profession) don't like to be questioned. I would venture a guess that many captains would not appreciate being asked that question since it would be an affront to their ego.
I have had occasion to travel on ferries a few times. On each occasion I have deliberatly looked for the life jackets and boats. While you must trust that the crew knows what they are doing.....you can still verify as best you can that they do, which includes being responsible for your own personal safety.
I often watch the crew is see if they appear to know what they are doing. One ferry crossing from Provincetown, Cape Cod to Boston had my hair on end. The crew was nearly useless and the 'Captain' was drunk. As soon as we cleared the protected harbor the sea got rough and the crew was visibly shaken. I stuck close to the sole life boat that trip.
quite the opposite on board an airliner, they prompt you on what to do in event of a crash, or loss of cabin pressure.
Too late for serious stacking and protection of stacks. Impossible to find somewhere else that would work out for the rest of life, however long or short that might be. Other places might look good until someone gets there and discovers all the unanticipated problems such as criminals, natives who have no reason to help or even let you live, or other problems related to the facts of being either insiders or outsiders if we move somewhere else. Sitting tight seems the right course for the time being. Maybe better to be near a border with another country just in case? But for that to work, timing has to be perfect and there's still the insider/outsider problem. I think it's too late also to believe that anyone who hasn't already prepared and is hunkered down can produce everything they need day/week/month/year in-and-out. A veggie garden isn't going to be all that's required for good health and sustenance, and one that produces reliably requires a lot of time and prep that involves manure and lots of digging... I'm not saying everyone shouldn't do what they can do, but that we have to be flexible and prepared to act accordingly. As in life so far, probably not everyone is going to face the same challenges. Doing the best we can in the circumstances we'll face likely will be the orders of the days to come. I admire preppers and prepping and other forms of getting ready (have done what I can do for now) but even in collapse, life for some will be better than for others, and those who prepped will have problems too while those who didn't may get by using other stragegies they develop on the fly.
My bottom line, hope for the best and prepare as best I can.
Wonderful and enjoyable illustration of critical decision making, CD.
Anyone who is 'prepping' (I hate that word because of the derogatory aspersions attached to it by many) and claim they are 'prepared' are wallowing in their own self delusions. One can never be 'prepared' for anything and everything, only certain slices of specific scenarios.
There are no totally 'right' or 'wrong' decisions to be made here simply because each person's situation is unique. But doing nothing, or next to nothing, is a decision in and of itself which just happens to require that we expend little to no effort, thus ideal in many people's mind.
There is always time to do more than we are currently now doing. I don't wish to constantly remain in crisis mental/emotional mode which is why doing one small thing each day to improve your 'flexibility' is the way I would suggest the issue be approached.
How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. While you might not ever finish the elephant you will have at least started the process.
Living in a world without law...nor even the pretense of trying to find it.
Not the first time we had to make our own rules. Won't be the last time either.
Never tire reading your depiction, description of harsh reality and the insightful comments of fellow Hedgers living the 'dream' (slight sarc ).
A Shitpile of ' Advisors ' high-fiving each other on a tasty commission from the sale of an expensive dud financial product to a small business owner.
A surgery of Public Servants ( politicians; teachers; politzei ) committed to serving their constituents, students and communities.
These are a few of my favourite things. . . NOT
Always love me a boat story... This one was missing the flair of a true seaman, but I understand the constraints of the tale.
It is true the open sea is not for everyone. I have gone for little boat rides and fishing trips, but I have also traveled the rough north Atlantic in old wooden long liners. They also had noticeable repairs, although they had been completed by someone who knew the importance of a sealed wiring harness and tight connections.
But when you can feel the hull flexing due to the swell of the ocean against your back, or moment the bow becomes weightless as it crests a wave before dropping into the seemingly thousandth trough, you'll either find your sea legs, or you'll make yourself a promise!!
I have also seen those scuttled relics laying beneath the surface. Impossibley still and completely out of context. Their colourful shapes so alien in the quiet, dull landscape that exemplifies harbour bottom. Yet somehow they almost seem modern along side the decomposing wharf timbers and spalling concrete. The juxtaposition of time making a statement of it's own. Alas I have witnessed these old ships raised. Their acient frames rotted to the core, the mechanical parts can no longer meet their function. Sea worthy vessels these are not.
Unfortunately this is the fate of nearly all the sea faring transport that ever was. Once new and buoyant they served someone a proud purpose, and earned much more then the basic maintaince required. They can be kept in service longer then one might think through knowledge passed down from generations at sea, hopefully by good crew looking to earn a fair share. Sometimes requiring a refit at the dry dock, you would be surprised at what a new rudder or prop pitch might produce. Many a ship has out lasted her captain, and many have left safe harbour to never be seen again. They all have their day.
No the open sea isn't for everyone, if it doesn't float your boat I suggest you buy land!
They say you can't "time" the market. I wonder if the same doesn't apply to fleeing to safety.
First, where the heck is safety?? I feel like Canada might be safe (I live here) but thinking that might be cog dis. My parents survived the depression. My dad was in a city and my mom the country. Both had their disadvantages and advantages.
Second, how bad will it get?? World war seems like the worst thing that could happen (especially with 19 and 21 year old boys) but that seems to happen somewhere "over there". And there isn't a place I could move that would save my kids from being forced to join up (given that there isn't a hope of convincing them to leave their lives).
Third, given that when I started reading zerohedge maybe 3 years ago and thought the sky was falling immediately then, how long can they keep kicking the can? Maybe longer than I will be alive?
Fourth, I don't know that my belief that there is a bad moon on the rise is not a manifestation of a inner dormant drama-queen.
when I started reading zerohedge maybe 3 years ago and thought the sky was falling immediately then, how long can they keep kicking the can? Maybe longer than I will be alive?
Aye, there's the rub!!!
You make excellant points. So why not make a change to a more self sufficient lifestyle simply because it is healthier and in some respects more rewarding? We understood we could not time when things will get unbearable or even if it would. But we were tired of the insanity so we moved our lives towards a more sane way of life.
CogDis...great storytelling and analogy. My answer to your question "What do you do?" is condensed down to bumper sticker size; "Either shoot or reload!"
there's another sea story similar told by stock market types, goes like this: you leave the dock, the sun is shining, and the sea is calm. you leave the harbor and you are out so sea, enjoying the wind in your sails when you notice some clouds building. you sail closer to the entrance to the harbor, rather than going farther out as you thought. as you get closer to the harbor the wind picks up, you feel the rain starting, but you are closer to home and you seek refuge inside the harbor. just as the storm begins you moor your ship at the dock. this hardly fits the risk on risk off model of investing, its very old school. the other thing they used to say, is once you turn 65 you should convert your stocks to bonds.
a while back my mothers brokers advised her (while she was in her 80's) to stay fully invested, after all you could live another 20 years, he said. and to be fair she very nearly has, but with some peace of mind. i am not sure how rich you are supposed to be when you reach 100, 65 is usually too old to enjoy most of it. now that i am that age i wonder what the hell difference does a lot of money make, while not being destitute matters quite a bit. and of course the most bothersome thing is that many people who worked hard, and saved their money, are now destitute because of government policy, not speculators. that turn in the wind bothers me the most.
Great story and directly applicable to the people on the sinking ship of (United) State_. Most will beligerently go down with the ship (even arguing & mocking that everything is fine until all you hear is bubbles), and take as many others with them as possible.
However, since I regularly fish off shore on two Boston Whalers, I must question one obvious discrepancy - whether Joe's boat really sank 100 yards from the dock.
You see, Boston Whalers are filled with foam, not air. So, unlike the Titanic, they really are unsinkable. In fact, at the top of their home page it says, "The Unsinkable Legend (TM)". On their Why Whaler/Unsinkable link, it says, "You can put a hole in a Boston Whaler or cut it in two - both halves will still float and you can drive away in the half with the engine."
Disclaimer: No financial interest in Boston Whaler; Long steel, lead and silver...until I lost it in a tragic boating accident.
Thanks for the information. I was told it was a Boston Whaler by Joe. Of course Joe was the one who was told to turn left when lost at sea so he could have been told anything about the boat when he bought it.
I was also a boating novice (still am) so I wouldn't know the difference between power boats. The hull filled with water and the boat sank before being towed to the dock. Based upon your description it was not a Boston Whaler since they don't 'sink'.
All I really remember was that it was not wood but rather fiberglass. And it was a wreck. I saw it for all of 10 minutes tops.
The built-in foam floats the boat/motor, but the added weight of the passengers and their junk will still sink the boat below the surface.
Yes you have and I'm not questioning your integrity in your search for success in survival. Also you have indicated that for many of us we will need to assume a greater reliance on the warrior/hunter persona of our forefathers. Knowing the changes and adapting to them is incredibly healthy for survival, and those that haven't slowly evolved to the troubling times ahead will perish. I totally agree with all of this.
I say there are questions I have not answered, but in reality there are ethical decisions to be dealth with. Such as with my extended family, at this point I'm sure they will probably be going down with the boat as I've run out of enthusiism to convince them of their folly. And yes, they do have a thousand reasons why.
Unfortunately, like many others, we seem to stand alone in the wealth of our knowledge.
Ahhhhhhhh.......questions about ethics. What a wonderfully self controlling meme we find ourselves saddled with.
Who is being 'ethical' by ignoring obvious signs of societal and economic collapse while I face the music, then sacrifice in order to prepare, only for those who did not prepare to show up at my doorstep empty handed and demanding entry?
Who is being 'ethical' by running up debt way above their means, then depending upon the system to bail them out, only to repeat the process as often as the system allows? Is it ethical to wallow in self indulgence until the system breaks, then demand my preparations be 'shared' with them because they have none?
I do not wish to imply that I would not help as much as I can, only that the ethical question works both ways. Your relatives are not being ethical in my book. But 'ethics' are often determined by the majority and not by any 'fair' or 'just' standards.
Be careful wrestling with 'ethical questions'. Oftentimes it is a self imposed mind trap because you are being tougher on yourself than others will be on themselves. Do the things that allow you to sleep at night. Don't do the things you think 'civilized society' requires of you just because society requires it of you. Society as a whole is a whore and wishes to be paid up front.
Personally, I lost faith in just about every institution at a very young age which set me on a course of self reliance many decades ago. I'm sorry to say but anyone that didn't see this one coming will probably do the same as this group of men, nothing,too late. WARNING; VERY VERY DISTURBING.
http://www.asgraphic.org/videos/video382/index.htmYes, exactly, many of your suggestions I have previously put into action. Eliminated most bills, saved in a shiny way and have prepped in other areas. However, even with prepping, the seriousness of the fallout is going to be unbeatable. Even moving away as you've done from the bustle of city life will still subject you to the overflow of those who haven't prepped.
So, as much as we try to extradict ourselves from the masses, it seems to me we will need to become something other than what we are to survive. Are we willing to allow others to die without helping, shoot others to protect our resources and look the other way when it serves our purpose.
These are the questions that I have been unable to answer and why at times it seems I may not like what I find in the new world.
I never ever imply we can 'extradict ourselves from' the fallout. There is no place to run and no place to hide. Only that you can mitigate the effects by becoming more self sufficient and personally responsible for yourself. I have covered this pretty extensively in my articles over the last year.
I agree. We're already ass-deep, it's just a question of how to best ride it out. Thanks, CD for your insight, continually.
Near the end the feeling occurred to me you were headed in a slightly different direction.
My past difficulty has been the inability to motivate/enlighten my family (brothers,sisters) to the boat sinking. Frequent sessions over a 4 year period has led to an unsuccessful and quite frankly a frustrating dialogue with those who have more developed debating techniques.
So the stuation remains where I proceed to rummage along as on a soul searchin journey doing those things that may prolong my escape from the inevitable sinking, knowing full well that if I persisted with dialogue, 1 or 2 may eventually follow along. But also knowing, as you pointed out so well in your story, that I really haven't a prayer of finishing any better than the rest of the crew as I have no bloody ideas and too few options.
Thanks for another creative cognitive dissonance
I do not know your situation so I am not speaking to you directly, but to the larger audience.
When I inferred near the end of the story that there was no place to go I was speaking to those we remained on the boat but with a "Plan B" in mind. As long as they are at sea there is no practical Plan B. I hear stories of people who plan on gathering their stuff and running from the city when the shit hits the fan. The problem is that when it becomes obvious that the shit hit the fan E V E R Y O N E will be trying to exit the city....or climbing to the top of the mast on the sinking boat.
There is no use in 'debating' those who wish to remain in place. Nor are you responsible to 'saving' anyone else but yourself. Period. In addition it will take great sacrifice and personal determination to preposition yourself away from the boat to maximize your chances of riding out the storm. For those who don't wish to do so there are a thousand and one reasons not to do so. Put them all in a hat and take your pick. One is as good as the other since the reason is just the excuse needed to do as they wish.
BTW if you want more options reduce demands. Sell the car and car payment and buy a junker. Sell the house and take any proceeds to buy a shack. Underwater? Rent the place out, pay the difference in monthly income shortfall and simply your life. Or default. And so on and so on etc.
The real problem is that people want a sure thing before they act. I promise you that things will be worse in 5 years than they are now. That is a sure thing. And from the sound of things for many people it will take years to prepare. So start now. This is precisely what Mrs. Cog and I decided to do.
There is a story about boats of which you are probably aware.
It is actually a parallel about what happens after a collapse and is a microcosm of the way people will behave after the fact.
If you are disabled you are dead. You will drown.
If you are old and feeble you will be thrown out of the boat.
If you are injured and cannot pull your own weight you will be thrown off of the boat to drown.
When the boat is overloaded there will be sacrifices made so that others, the worthy, will survive.
THIS STORY IS TRUE AS IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. These people were aboard a Luxury Cruise Liner which struck a mine in the South Atlantic after World War II had ended. They were partying it up.
Now some went to their deaths willingly. Others attempted to put up a fight, fighting against TPTB when being thrown off of the boat.
If you want a insight into the psychology of collapse then this movie provides that insight...
Enjoy "Abandon Ship" , 1957, starring Tyrone Power. It is a must see. It starts out slow but then becomes increasingly intense.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Y_YQ_PPq-0
on your suggestion I saw that last night, thought it
was great. interestingly, moira lister playing
edith middleton repeatedly insists on referring to
t.p. as "brave captain" and asks the musical question
"why are the wicked so strong?" ... that explains this ..
mr. seigal, t.w.
Mr. Siegal - Tom Waits
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pI1ZUohNYS8
.
http://law.jrank.org/pages/2482/Alexander-Holmes-Trial-1842.html
.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Brown_(ship)
.
apparently, holmes was not the designated captain but
just following the captains insinuated "orders". I tried
to find out what happened to him after his trial but
came up with nothing.
We watched it as well. It was disturbing but compelling. I didn't realize until the end it was a true story.
check my links above, it wasn't really a true
story. it was a lie based on a true story,
or a lie based on another set of half truths (lies) resulting
in some dubious facts only our capacity to construct
beliefs could whip into a good and true story.
.
I don't mean to be argumentative or combative but
that is the way I see it. I just couldn't let
the statement "I didn't realize until the end it was a true story."
pass without further comment. the details are always altered to
communicate something by way of story telling, some propaganda
or message that might not have existed in the "true story".
but I digress, thanks for the attention to comment/s.
Not at all and I appeciate the links. Cog and I had a rather "spirited" debate about the choices made in the movie version. Geez it turns out the truth is even worse.
Thanks as always for the toe tapping tunes. :-)
Open one's self to accepting that survival will be based on making dramatic change about who you think that you truly are, or want to be, and acting on that change however is necessary.
You do it or not, there is no try.
Best article all day!! I've been with Cognitive Dissonance for a long while now, 'cuz we've always been on the same page, so to speak. As a teenager I loved my drugs and sex as much as anyone, but when my friends would, inevitably, decide amongst themselves to do something stupid I couldn't separate myself from these dweebs fast enough. Got self preservation?
In the case described in my story the 'crew' had an over abundance of machismo combined with a strict top down hierarchy. During 'work' you did as you were told without question or you were gone quicker than shit. This attitude extended to play time in some rather insane ways.
There were close parallels to a small elite military combat unit. You worked and played real hard together and everyone had each others back. For me it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The experience left scars that are still evident today.
It's the unabandoned teenage fantasy that it won't happen to you and your buddies. Some god or fate looks out for you and your fellow travelers. Who promised you a promised land? You believed? Yes, some may have been lucky, like those Pilgrims at sea seeing Cape Cod and finding food. The lucky are saved, but most perish.
Forty years ago, with the wind at 35+ knots and 7 miles off Martha's Vineyard on its south/oceanside, we saw a person clinging to a board sailboat with the mast gone and we pulled him aboard. Whose providence saved that fool? What providence is expected to save our land?
There is no providence; only serendipity.
Mmm, sometimes things happen for reasons not revealed until later.
But first, one of my boating stories...lol.
So Captain ___ had this sailboat and everyone knows "the crew" I used to hang out with. There were about six of us and the Capn. It was docked at a marina in the intercoastal east of TI and naturally (being native Floridians) we were all drunk when we got to the marina. He said he was having problems with the kicker but as luck would have it, the motor cranked up and off we went down the channel, under Johns Pass drawbridge and out into the gulf.
He killed the motor and we set sail. Music blaring, drinks flowing, doobies burning, the sun in our face and the wind in our hair. It was awesome.
Late in the day we noticed a fog bank further out, not good, no wind. So we turned and started heading back...and then the wind died.
Did I mention the blaring music? Yeah, I thought so. Dead batteries now and no starty on the motory. So here we are, the fogs getting closer now and Capn ___ is beating on the engine and cleaning battery posts.
There is complete silence except for that.
All of a sudden Mrs.N (well, girlfriend N at the time) says "What the hell was that!?" as something brushed by the side of the boat in the water. We all thought the worst, Jaws of course...lol...until we heard the exhale.
It was a porpoise. And not just one...but four that I saw. Out of curiousity (the banging on the engine) or compassion (they've been known to come to human aid) there they were. It was the coolest thing in the world, lasting until another boat happened up and asked us if everything was all right and threw us a rope to tow us back in.
I can tell you, seven people bonded with porpoises more than the Captain of the other boat.
You just never no what life will bring you if you look for it ;-)