The WOKE ideology can be categorized as a "Utopian Fantasy".
Utopian Fantasies require that human nature change for them to survive more than twenty years (basically, the prime years of their founders).
Rosabeth Moss Kanter studied 91 "utopian communities that existed between 1780 and 1860. Very few of them lasted more than 33 years...however, some of them did.
...Kanter noted these groups' rituals and clear boundaries for membership,
as well as the "commitment mechanisms" that utopians utilized:
sacrifice, investment, renunciation, communion, mortification and transcendence. She concluded that the more that a utopian community asked of its members, the more cohesive and long-lasting it was. -Wikipedia
I think it is worth pointing out that the durable utopian communities required EQUALITY of sacrifice, investment, renunciation, communion, mortification and transcendence in all of their membership.
The WOKE movement requires those commitment mechanisms but only of certain groups. Other groups are exalted and lionized and not required to wear the sack-cloth and ashes.
Based on the historical data, it seems likely that the WOKE movement will be viewed by future generations as a campy aberration much like praying to crystals, hippies, transcendental meditation, chakras and macrobiotic diets.
That will come to a great shock to the SJWs who sold their souls to join the movement.
Yesterday's work-ticket
Four rows. The ten feet of each row closest to the goats are planted to potatoes. The ten feet closest to the camera are planted to "Bodacious" sweet corn.
You might be asking why I am planting sweet corn after I have posted material suggesting it might not be the best vegetable when the SHTF.
The short answer is "It is what the customer asked for." If my efforts can change people so they think of themselves as successful gardeners, then it is pretty easy for them to change what they plant.
The mom of one of my high school buddies passed away this week. Her funeral is tomorrow. She may be the last of that generation among my friends.
There were several unusual features about my high school experience. I attended Catholic schools and the various parishes fed into the same high school. The schools at those parishes ended at different grades. Some schools, like the one I went to, stopped after 6th grade. Others went to 8th grade. Consequently, I started attending "Central" in 7th grade while others joined in 8th grade and 9th grade.
That created interesting dynamics as cliques or tribes or posses absorbed additional people, expanded and divided.
I didn't have a single "best friend" 7th-through-12th grade. It changed as circumstances changed.
However, my friend whose mother's funeral is tomorrow was generally in my top-three from 9th until 12th grade and even into college.
The Information Superhighway before the Internet
Kids will be stunned to learn that the information superhighway existed in the 1970s before the internet was invented. We called it "The Library".
If, by chance, you were on good terms with the librarian, then you had a very-high bandwidth portal to that highway.
My friend's mother was the librarian at our high school.
Another quirk about my high school is that it embraced the idea that kids naturally sought the knowledge they need, just like kids always choose the most nourishing foods and most wholesome activities. We were expected to do our own class scheduling (preparing us for college, don't you know) and to master academic material and take tests at our own rate.
Somehow, I did not have a single English/Language/Compostion class during my high school career. I did, however, probably, set a record for the number of hours I spent in the library reading the McGraw-Hill Encyclopedias of Science and Technology (go ahead, ask me about boron nitride or T-T-T curves or the Kreb's cycle). I should not have been allowed to graduate but I think the academic advisors were embarrassed by my falling through the cracks and they were willfully blind to my deficiencies.
Even after graduating from high school, the librarian continued to influence my life. I was scheduled to graduate from Michigan State with a BS in Engineering in March of 1981. It was during the low-point in the business cycle (Jimmy Carter's malaise). More of my class got jobs in Texas than in Michigan.
However, about two months before I graduated, the librarian called my mom and told her to tell me "Call this number and say 'I have skills in Computer Aided Engineering'." The librarian's husband had connections.
I made that call and got that job and was able to stay close to family (which was a very high priority for me).
And so, tomorrow, I will go to the visitation and then the funeral Mass. I will not say very much. My role will be similar to a neutron absorbing rod in a nuclear pile or sound absorbing panels in a room. I will be "background" just like when I was when I was one of those nameless, faceless bodies who was in the library as reliably as the furniture.
This is the kind of brush that covered Southern Belle's lot when they purchased it (although it was not in leaf)
Handsome Hombre and Southern Belle purchased their house in December, 2024. Most of the lot was covered with pucker-brush, an unholy mess of Asian Honeysuckle, Staghorn Sumac, Poison Ivy and Hawthorne. Based on the ring-counts, the land had been neglected for at least 13 years.
The brush was brush-hogged. Orchard trees were planted.
This year, they want to plant sweet corn* and potatoes between the trees of the orchard.
Brome grass and goldenrod. Orchard trees next to the tee-posts. The goldenrod will die if we keep mowing.
This is what it looks like about a week after being sprayed with glyphosate. You can see the yellowing of the strip closest to the camera compared to the deeper green of the unsprayed strip.
Even though the grass is essentially dead, it still pays to mow it before tilling so-as to not bind/clog the tiller blades.
There are stumps and roots that will defeat the tiller.
Big, ugly snags that will take years to rot away.
After the first pass going counter-clockwise. You don't have to be stupid to do work like this but it helps.
The second pass was done traveling clockwise and went much faster. I am so very, very glad that I did not have to dig this by hand.
This strip is approximately 20' across by 65' long. It will get four rows with 15' on the west end planted to potatoes and then four plantings of sweet corn (about a week apart) 10' each with the far end being melons and some winter squash. Turnip seed will be broadcast to provide greens through the early summer. Handsome Hombre loves to eat fresh greens with his scrambled eggs.
Germinating watermelon seeds
Their plan for any excess harvest is to share with their neighbors and to take it to church and give it away.
God willing, the potatoes and the first four, 10' rows of corn will go in tomorrow.
Scarcely worth mentioning
One of my earlier posts was about farmers in South Africa not planting their fields because they did not expect the prices to cover the variable cost of planting.
What is not obvious is that the farmers, collectively, expect price controls or outright confiscation of their crops.
Any human with a brain knows that food prices will rise when there is scarcity. Food is not optional. It is not something we can decide "Well, I just won't buy any until prices come down." People will pay their last dollar to fill their belly.
ERGO: Farmers must know that the prices they will command will not go up. They must know that something will happen to short-circuit that supply/demand relationship. Either the currency will be debased to the point where the elevated prices will still be insufficient to cover next years costs or...the "market" will be perverted by the heavy-hand of the government, that is, price controls or confiscation-without-compensation of the harvest.
The only thing worse than food prices that are high is no food on the shelf. Farmers are not stupid. They can see the handwriting on the wall and are acting in their rational best-interest.
Mamdani might want to take a few notes. If his goal is to reduce food-deserts in NYC, then government run and subsidized grocery stores is not the answer (see "...perverted by the heavy-hand of the government..."). All of those dynamic, robust, grass-roots bodegas are going to dry up and blow away.
* Bodacious sweet corn was selected primarily for its excellent seedling vigor. Many types of sweet corn struggle with uneven planting depth and less-than-ideal soil moisture and cooler temperatures. Bodacious isn't immune to those issues but seems to be better equipped than many other varieties to "power through" those issues.
And in a big surprise, some of the watermelon seeds I got from Lucky in 2021 are germinating. I kept them in the refrigerator but was still surprised when three of them popped up. Those 20 Watt germination mats are a marvel.
I got 20 Stocky Red Roaster pepper plants into the ground. I planted them in the potato patch beside the main aisle. South side of path, west end of the garden.
Cucumber seedlings hardening-off outside. My apologies for the crappy light. I took these pictures late in the day.
Marigold plants along left side of frame. Tagetes minuta plants on far-side of fencing. Federle tomatoes planted next to fence on left so that I can train them up the fence on left side of the enclosure. Enclosure for night time for ducks dominating right side of frame. Yes, that is a truck-cap.
If things work out, Mrs ERJ will be able to sit in her favorite chair next to the window and see Crackerjack marigolds blooming in the garden.
God willing, I will till the patch of ground Southern Belle intends to turn into a corn patch today. I will make an effort to take pictures.
I am not the only busy person
The people selling ducklings and barrels are a little slow getting back to me. Perhaps they are also busy planting gardens.
Quicksilver music
Quicksilver is more interested in music videos where there are women and/or children in them.
One interesting interpretation of this song is that narrow-minded town-folk are mocking a formerly beautiful, middle-aged woman who gave her life to Jesus during her prime. John 14:1-2
It is rarely a bad idea to have the lead photo in a blog-post be a picture of a happy dog.
Overall notes
Due to Mrs ERJ's mission-of-mercy, I had to stick close to home yesterday. The nature of the mission changed several times through the morning as the other party panicked. Unable to do the things I had planned, I found other things to do.
Early in the morning, Quicksilver and I made a trip to the greenhouse. It was closed.
Then we went to the playground next to Old Athletic field and she played for about 40 minutes.
Then we went to the ice cream store. It was closed.
Then
we went to Quality Dairy and bought a bowl with a single scoop of
chocolate ice cream and two spoons. We walked down to the river to eat
it. Oddly enough, she didn't let me hold the bowl but I got my share
anyway.
I planted 100' of rutabagas yesterday and (with
Quicksilver's help) 30' of Blue Lake pole beans. Shortly after we got
the seeds into the ground we picked up about a half inch of rain.
About that help in the garden...
Quicksilver insisted on helping me in the garden yesterday. She was not taking "No" for an answer.
I was planting green beans. Quicksilver considers herself a professional bean planter. She had planted beans into Dixie cups in her play-date group.
Her spacing was good even though she doesn't know the difference between inches and moon-pies (a metric unit, to be sure). However, in spite of my instructions to NOT push the bean seeds down into the soil, she was sure that she knew better.
Her fingers got all gooey with mud so I hosed off her hands before we went into the house and then we washed them off with soap-and-water once inside.
Normally, I am not paranoid about mud, but I had used water from the duck's swimming pool to flood the trench where I planned to plant beans. I had not anticipated Quicksilver kicking off her sandals and stuffing her feet into her "farm boots" and chasing me outside.
In spite of my frustration about her not following instructions, I am very proud of her. She is a "do it" kind of kid and she really wants to work.
Progress-to-date
There are two plots of ground that I am gardening in Eaton Rapids. Both of them are about 4000 square-feet. One is fenced in. The other, called the potato patch, is not.
The potato patch is the most planted. I am figuring about 1100' of row. To date, 650' of potatoes are planted. 50' of onions. 100' of rutabagas. The remaining 300' will be planted to assorted vegetables like beets and sweet peppers. By my calculations, that puts the potato patch at about 70% planted.
I think it is worth mentioning that I ran the main travel aisle-way right up the middle of the length of the garden. Vegetables that produce multiple pickings or earliest crops (like sweet peppers and beets to be eaten through the summer) are staged in rows next to the aisle-way while late potatoes that get harvested all in one "go" are in rows that are farther away from the aisle-way.
The fenced-in garden is much less planted. So far it has 24' of tomatoes, 24' of broccoli and 30' of beans planted in it with 100' of cabbage planned. It also happens to be where the ducks are patrolling. Their primary mission is to eat snails and slugs. Their secondary mission is to lay eggs.
I may end up planting half of the fenced-in garden to buckwheat or red clover.
Mrs ERJ's mission-of-mercy escalated. She was gone until five. No trips to Caledonia for me...at least not yesterday. She has appointments in both the morning and this afternoon, so Caledonia is unlikely for today.
Equipment maintenance
There are two kinds of equipment on a working farm. Broken equipment and equipment that is about to break. You better get good at fixing/maintaining things if you don't want to find yourself dead-in-the-water.
This hose had an encounter with a frustrated raccoon.
The hose was severed about 5' from the end so I decided to not splice it but to simple move the end.
I removed the old end for re-use (not the first time this hose has been repaired) and cut the damaged area flush with a pair of by-pass pruning snips.
Then I soaked the cut end in very hot water to soften the vinyl.
Then, before pressing the barb of the female end into the hose, I slipped the screw-collar over the hose and goobered some liquid soap inside of the hose abd smeared it around with my pinky-finger. I did the same with the exterior of the barb of the female end.
The last step is to slide the screw-collar up over the end of the hose where the barbed-end is pressed in and to tighten the screws.
I got Mrs ERJ's garden plot tilled yesterday. That meant pulling out the posts and mowing the weeds.
Mrs ERJ's garden on May 18, 2026. Sweet Baby Girl tomato in foreground in front of the rake.
Mrs ERJ has a 20' long by 8' wide garden that is surrounded by 5' tall welded wire fence. She specializes on vegetables for salads + one zucchini plant.
Rain predicted
The weather-weenies are predicting 0.7" of rain starting at about five this afternoon. I am going to set up a sprinkler anyway. I scattered oats over the patch where I intend to plant cabbage in about four weeks.
We near the end of a four-day warm spell. Temperatures are expected to drop to more seasonal levels on Wednesday. I really need to water the flats of seedlings twice a day when the high temperatures are in the 80s.
Orchard walk
No fruit on the Asian pears or any of my European plums in the Eaton Rapids orchard. Liberty apple set fruit heavily. One of my quince trees is going toes-up with fire blight and will be removed. The other two varieties of quince (that I haven't culled) are flowering.
Today's work-ticket
I will be watching Quicksilver solo for much of the day. Mrs ERJ is heading out on a mission of mercy. One of our mutual friends has foot issues and the doctor prescribed a certain kind of shoe. The friend is overwhelmed by the thought of shoe-shopping alone so Mrs ERJ graciously volunteered to take that person shopping in Novi or Brighton.
My plan is to set up and run the sprinkler. Then, after Mrs ERJ gets back home to make a road-trip and purchase some steel barrels. Personally, I think I got the better end of the deal.
The bottleneck in nitrogen fertilizer distribution due to the issues transiting the Straits of Hormuz is already impacting the Southern Hemisphere.
This video is by an agronomist in South Africa and he points out that farmers in South Africa were already side-lining marginal production areas BEFORE the Straits of Hormuz was closed. That was due to high input costs and low prices for what they produce.
More than a month ago, before the price of diesel and nitrogen based fertilizer doubled, the year-on-year increase in production costs in South Africa was estimated to be $45 acre or approximately +25%. (A big tip-of-the-hat to Rich for correcting my math in the comments!)
Farmers are responding by not planting because the harvest (at current prices) will not even cover the variable cost of production.
Near the end of the video, the narrator shares that South Africa produces about half of the calories eaten by the 500,000,000 Africans who live south of the equator. 500,000,000 is more than the population of the European Union which is more than the population of the US.
Once those 500,000,000 people get hungry, they are NOT going to passively starve to death in their squalid huts. Nope. They are going to bee-line to the places where there is food and demand that they be fed.
The little boy who cried wolf
"Yeah, sure. We heard that story before".
"And besides, there is nothing I can do about it."
Maybe. Maybe not.
Lawns
Lawns as grown in North America are markers of wealth. HOA have rules about how they are cared for because...well...it signals that "our kind of people" live here and is good for resale prices.
A well cared for lawn consumes 4 pounds of nitrogen per 1000 square feet per year in the North and up to twice that for Bermuda grass in the South.
Admittedly, there is a lot of lawn that doesn't get any fertilizer at all.
So, the average nitrogen application might be 2 pounds per 1000 square feet nationwide.
First-order-approximation
Since nature is very efficient and there is little waste, the fact that maize is about 8% protein (protein is 1/6th nitrogen by weight) means that one pound of corn (which will keep a human alive for a day in terms of calories) requires 0.0133 pounds of nitrogen fertilizer. In round numbers, that is the amount of fertilizer spread on about 6 square-feet of average lawn or 3 square-feet of HOA lawn over the course of the year (in the North).
Looking at a full year's worth of food, the fertilizer used on 1200 square-feet of HOA lawn will grow an incremental amount of corn (maize) that is enough to keep one person who is starving to death alive for a year.
Running the same math for rice the number becomes 1360 square-feet of HOA lawn. That is because rice has slightly more protein than corn.
For wheat the number is 1825 square-feet.
The paradox
The paradox is that the resources will flow to the high-bidder. And if one HOA decides to reduce or forego nitrogen fertilizer then the HOA next door will use just that much more. Fertilizer is a fungible commodity.
So, unless there is a shift in societal norms and lush, dark-green lawns because a sign of shame ("You starved a baby"), then the needle will not move very much.
And even if the HOA Karens are unmoved by pictures of babies with distended bellies, they should consider the specter of 100,000,000 Africans who cannot speak English moving the the US and camping out on their HOA lawns and eating their pets.
You can scream that I am a xenophobe because of that argument. Whatever. If appealing to the Karens self-interests increases food production in the Southern Hemisphere when appealing to their better human nature fails, then I will risk being called a xenophobe.
