As you can see, I’m tired of politics this weekend. I needed a break.
Hence:
Now this is why GoPro cameras were made. For perspectives and places you otherwise wouldn’t have seen.
I have a GoPro 5 Black that the wife bought me, with some accessories and a beautiful case. But my mental fecudity apparently doesn’t cover sussing out this camera and, moreover, I can’t figure out where the hell people go to edit their material. Can anybody help? What software do you use?
While we’re on interesting flying birds videos, how about this classic? Can you imagine possessing the freedom and ability to do and see this?
Astounding.
Sorry folks, stream of consciousness, no politics.
I haven’t done this for awhile. That is to say, just sat back with an adult beverage — Ketel One mixed with Fuji Apple flavored seltzer water — and let things go “stream-of-consciousness” from my Mark I, Model I brainulus.
Right now I happen to be ensconced within my cabin at the 4,000-foot level in the Sierra Nevada mountains, Occupied Fornicalia all around and beneath me. The sun has mostly set but the pines are still visible outside through my large windows. It’s cooler than its been for a while, 40-degrees and falling, and I’ve not only clicked on the Fujitsu heat but started a fire in the heavy iron stove as well. That is the photo at top.
The wind has risen, and the chimes are talking. Just now, a distant boom of thunder. Will it be coming closer? I certainly hope so. There is absolutely nothing more packed with grandeur and a bit of God’s lung-rumbling majesty than the strike of bolts and nearing reverberation of thunder to remind a person of one’s insignificance in the overall scheme.
Nice. The thudding appears to be getting closer. It’s still not completely dark so the bolt’s aren’t yet sufficiently stark. But it reminds: time to turn on the porch light. Wait. Some rain. I can hear it off the roof. Why so loud? It’s not rain; it’s hail. Then rain again. Cow. Flat rock.
What’s coming up with BZ on the blog and in other venues? Let me cogitate for a microsecond. Yes. Posts about my voting preference. I’m finally formally endorsing. Posts about the future of law enforcement. Posts about the final implementation of Brexit and Teresa May. Posts about the English Defence League in the UK. Posts about my upcoming radio show on the SHR Media. Posts about the future of freedom in the United States. Posts about history, life, oppression, reality, Historical Alzheimers, tyranny and ignorance.
I am proud of the fact that I am a Silverback, that I am an Oathkeeper and that I am a Sheepdog. I will always be a Sheepdog. For that meaning, please go here.
The thunder is louder. A bit far away but closing still. I am starting to feel it in the floor of the cabin.
It’s completely dark now. The thunder hasn’t quailed; in fact, it’s stronger than ever. Someone is making a statement about my place in the firmament. Blast of a bolt. A good boomer. The entire room was illuminated. Now the downpour again.
I’m sure Leftists say this about me, but I write it about them now. Those on the Left must be seriously brain damaged. They have not a foot or even a pinkie dipped into the pool of Reality. Michael Savage, moron as he is, happens to be correct about four things:
To keep our sovereignty we must maintain our BORDERS
Our LANGUAGE
And our CULTURE
That is the ultimate challenge today not just for the United States, but for the UK and every other western nation possessing GOWPs who are interested in naught but a complete giveaway.
The wind and the rain is increasing. I can hear it on my metal roof. You dare not have a wooden roof at altitude unless you’re a bleeding moron. There are still some of you about around here.
The bolts are here, the rain is here, the thunder is here and shaking my floor.
I haven’t done this for awhile. That is to say, just sat back with an adult beverage — Ketel One mixed with Fuji Apple flavored seltzer water — and let things go “stream-of-consciousness” from my Mark I, Model I brainulus.
I am proud of the fact that I am a Silverback, that I am an Oathkeeper and that I am a Sheepdog. I will always be a Sheepdog. For that meaning, please 
The thunder is louder. A bit far away but closing still. I am starting to feel it in the floor of the cabin.