From Lon Emerick's Going Back to Central:

"I must confess I did entertain the notion of being a snowbird at one time. A restless peregrination around the nation in a box of metal and glass held little appeal, but I did think it might be pleasant to spend winters in Arizona. After teaching for a semester at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, I became fascinated with the southwest: the blend of Native, Hispanic and Anglo cultures, the intriguing feel of the desert, the red rock country, the vast forests of ponderosa pines. So one year after I retired from teaching, with some reluctance on the part of my wife, we spent a month in Prescott.

Prescott is located in north central Arizona. A small town—at least it was before being recognized in a national magazine as the place to retire—it is situated in the Bradshaw Mountains surrounded by the Prescott National Forest. It has a beautiful city square, streets lined with historic homes and, most important to us, many opportunities to wander. Close to the Grand Canyon, the red rock canyons of Sedona and the Sonoran desert, it should have been an idyllic respite. But I soon became disenchanted and melancholy.

Instead of Lynn and Lon in our home place, where we know and are known, we had joined the flock of mature individuals cluttering up the town. Most of our con­versations with longtime residents began with the nervous inquiry: “Are you planning to move here?" Even in local stores we noted posters which read: “If the person in the car ahead of you is elderly, and so is the driver in the car behind you, you must be in Prescott.” Lynn and I found ourselves making pre-emptive strikes in our encounters with locals, telling everyone we met that we were not moving to Prescott.

Have you ever noted that, when several members of one particular age group are clustered together, the worst behavioral traits seem to emerge? The situation becomes what social psychologists call a “behavioral sink.” Whenever we went to restaurants, especially during the “early bird” hours, we overheard groups of retirees talking about medications, surgery, arthritis, even serious discussions of irregularity. Lamenting the untoward behavior of young people today and reviewing financial matters were also frequent topics of conversation. But the thing that got to me most of all was the way many people spent their days. Lacking any meaning­ful connection to the local community, many of our age cohorts resorted to filling their days with “planned activities.” It seemed to me that many of the snowbirds were simply perched in Prescott for the season, employing shallow diversions such as golf, card playing, shopping and bingo to pass the time.

I felt uprooted, fragmented, a noncitizen. There was no continuity to the past, no personal landmarks, no sense of identity with a community. And my connection to the land, to my home place, was severed.

Thus it is that I am a determined homebody and, when away from this Superior Peninsula for very long, a morose sojourner. Like my literary mentor Thoreau did in Concord, I travel extensively in my own native valley. Oh, I know that those who are rooted deeply in place are sometimes viewed as vegetative, nonadventurous, even stuck-in-a-rut. Moving along seems to suggest moving up and the wanderer is somehow romantic, inspiring, footloose and fancy free. Perhaps. Is it not better, more deeply satisfying, to live in one place and really know it than to have been a visitor in a score or more? Some are born to a landscape and bloom wonderfully where they are planted. Others, pilgrims like myself, eschew the temporary titilla­tions of a migratory existence and search for their Eden. Some of us are lucky enough to find it. St. Brigit of Ireland challenged a group of restless seekers with this short verse:

Tis labor great and profit small,
To go to Rome;
Thou wilt not find the king at all,
Unless thou find him first at home."

Full version of that show mentioned earlier: https://www.youtube.com/live/RPTNYDm4LfI?si=0WnmSpcx7dmfGTjt

Under my regime, all laws will be written in hymn form for the sake of ease of understanding and memorization.

Government is an essential and good part of the natural order of the universe. To be anti-government generally is thus to support the destruction of the good, to be against the nomos, against the order of the world. So, to be anti-government is to be... evil.

Dr. Porcu points out this example of the Greek constitution as an example of the sort of language you'd expect to find in a Christian nation.

You can also find similar language in a few other places.

Ireland (1937):

In the name of the Most Holy Trinity, from Whom is all authority and to Whom, as our final end, all actions both of men and States must be referred, We, the people of Éire, Humbly acknowledging all our obligations to our Divine Lord, Jesus Christ, Who sustained our fathers through centuries of trial.

Hungary (2011):

God bless the Hungarians... We recognize the role of Christianity in preserving nationhood... We are proud that our king Saint Stephen built the Hungarian State on solid ground and made our country a part of Christian Europe one thousand years ago.

Samao (2017):

Samoa is a Christian nation founded on God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

This does raise a question: is such a Christian declaration sufficient, necessary, neither, or both for a country to be good?

The Apotheosis of Washington. You are assured that this imagery is totally normal and not at all strange or weird. Ignore your instinct. Thank you.

The right wing might not be capable of organizing to actually accomplish anything, but it's really good at sending hundreds of thousands of dollars to trashy white women. You have to give it credit for that.

The Houghton County Board of Commissioners saw me saying that the right can't accomplish anything and decided to prove me wrong...

Who here was born a mal XY?

Oh no, I guess they'll have to close. Can't afford to keep sullying our communities with their filth.

Trenary Eggnog French Toast:

In a baking dish, prepare a mixture of 3 eggs, half a cup of eggnog, a dash of salt, and a splash of vanilla.

Whisk together until well blended.

Soak six slices of Trenary
Cinnamon Toast in the mixture for 30 minutes on each side. NOTE: If you try this with regular bread, soak in mixture only for a minute or so per side. Otherwise the bread will fall apart.

Fry in butter over medium heat until golden brown.

2 legged bear

$2.49 gas with a pump jockey. We livin' like kings tonight.

Hangin' out with Kim Jong Un—Chairman Kim, as I call him. We have a fantastic relationship. A beautiful friendship. He taught me how to play Janggi; wonderful game; many people say it takes a lifetime to learn. I learned it in a few minutes. I have a very high aptitude for strategy, everyone knows this. Kim is tough, he’s a killer on the board, but I saw angles he didn't see. I moved my missile silos—boom, boom—and it was all over. A total checkmate. Or whatever they call it over there. It was a beautiful victory. But anyways... He kept mentioning how he thought that this upper peninsula is fantastic. "The people's peninsula," he calls it. He takes one look at the UP—and he knows beauty, folks, believe me—he looks at it and he says to me, "Sir, the UP is beautiful. It’s perfect. Just perfect." He sees the snow—tremendous amounts of snow, beautiful white snow—and he wants it, he wants that snow in his country right now. We’re talking, we’re communicating, and things are happening very, very fast. The fake news channels like Voter Apathy Party and Cobson's Crusty Cheese Factory have said, "You can't export that much snow, it's impossible," but I told them, "Wrong." We are looking at it very strongly, and I think we’re close to something that is going to be—I don't want to say it's done, but it's looking very good. We’re talking about a deal that is so spectacular that people are going to be talking about it for a long, long time.