Summer Fundraiser, The Wrap-Up
Ah, the last day of an unusual bleg. Yeah, I do indeed always say “this one was different” — that’s because they all have a particular rhythm and flow. While I was out of operation for some of those days, still… I don’t recall a week when we had our hands out — “Please, y’all. One more time” — whilst the terra was much less than its usual firma, and the oceans roiled in concert.
Messages from the Karma Dude? Hardly. Or, if those were intended as cosmic memos, they were certainly delivered sotto voce. Strange, though, that we were relatively near the epicenter — which was close by in Cuckoo according to the Google Map — yet Washington D.C., many miles further north in a reclaimed swamp and certainly not part of the Blue Ridge Piedmont where be this quakier geology — experienced more damage.
I suppose one has to label that extended tremble as an “earthquake” since it registered on the Richter Scale, and it knocked stones off the National Cathedral, and it continued to send out aftershocks as far as New England and Canada — to remind us how little we know of what teems and steams and pushes far below this seemingly hard ground upon which we move…
Earthquake Cuckoo left its particular imprint on those who experienced it because forever after we’ll associate that brief jitney ride with where we were and what we were doing as it began to make itself felt as a whole body experience. For me the remnant impression will be one of absence, for what it turned out not to be. Suddenly brought out of my snooze (that’s ‘meditation’ with your eyes closed) from the severe repeated jolts, I was utterly certain the Baron was lying next to me in the throes of an epileptic seizure. Thus my immediate reaction to the sight of an empty bed was profound relief. Bouncing though it was, that bed did not contain my husband’s unconscious body. This immediate reactive fear continued to abate as I leaned over to inspect the floor beside the bed; a space where, again, his body was not lying. A second later the Baron appeared at the door, hale and hearty. It was only then that reality hit, and it was only then that I became alarmed, even as my great relief continued to make itself felt, even through the disconcerting waves of involuntary movement.
We headed out the front door (ladies first), our cat frantically moving past the too-slow human legs toward the safety of the yard. We stood there in what now seem long suspended moments, listening to the contents of our home jingling to their earth music. In retrospect, our calm now seems surreal; how curious our interested curiosity appears from this distance. Perhaps if we lived in ‘real’ quake country our reaction would have been less one of interest than of fear and foreboding. For me, though, we were still too close to that waking instant when I thought my heretofore healthy husband was in the throes of his own brain quake.
I remember the silence too. After the tremors, everything seemed so very still. We returned hesitantly to the house, looking in each room to see what might have fallen. The next day we were to find a small vase under a chair in the living room. I think it fell off its perch on the bookshelf during one of the aftershocks, though. I remember looking under the chair almost immediately after our first re-entry.
And then there were the days leading up to Irene’s impending visit to the long coast of the eastern United States. The Baron followed it closely because he cares deeply about the fate of the Barrier Islands along the coast of North Carolina. Each severe hurricane changes the topography, those haunts of his childhood, of his young adulthood spent camping on the Outer Banks. Even Irene managed to cut a new channel or two on that slim spit of land.
I never quite believed in Irene, at least not for us. We’re not too far inland to be hit, or to lose our power, but she seemed a media hype from the beginning. Those media flunkies wanted this one so badly. It would be the great opportunity for our commander-in-chief to strut his anti-Bush stuff. No Katrina for him. In reality, Irene was the anti-Katrina. The LOL ’cane, I called it (as did someone else), but the media and the Dauphin played it for all straight, as though this were the Real Deal.
Sure it was. Dude had to come in out of the rain, quit playing golf so he could do his stint as The One who calms the seas and gentles the winds. Yes, he can. Indeed he can, if someone would just get the damn winds up to speed or let him go back to the golf course. But even if his golf game has to wait, what sacrifices is this gallant not willing to make for us all?
[Meanwhile, his illegal immigrant uncle was arrested in Massachusetts for drunk driving. Sorry, for suspicion of drunk driving. It would appear that Obama Onyango is to be represented by the same lawyer who handled Auntie Zeituni Onyango’s charges regarding her illegal alien status. Isn’t that nice? The Onyangos have a family retainer for all their asylum needs.
Meanwhile, Obama moves past Jimmah Carter for the number of embarrassing relatives attending a sitting president. I doubt Uncle Obama will be nearly so entertaining as Bubba Billy Carter or his momma, Miz Lillian.(The latter was heard to declare she might have made a mistake in having children after all) The Barack Obamas are taking no chances: Michelle’s momma is safely
under wraps ensconced in the warm extended First Family at the White House. Ol’ Jimmah from the Ummah was just a Georgia cracker peanut farmer back then. What’s Obama’s excuse?]
So in the midst of the quick quake and the hurrycane, our bleg sailed on. As we continued, my own “flare” of fibromyalgia receded enough to allow me to sit up for extended periods. Now, like Irene, it’s mostly gone. Till the next one, but I’ll worry about that when it gets here. We never hit a reef, nor did we tack too close to the wind. (if you don’t count last night. A few worried people have written us to “watch our backs”, but we’re in this for the long haul.) There are only two known factors in play:
The first is the generosity of our readers, our tipsters, our translators, and our essayists and video guys. As long as y’all continue to share your resources, the Gates will be open.
The second factor is the continuing vitality of the U.S. Constitution. Should Hillary and the OIC breach that high wall and bring down the First Amendment, the fate of our little blog is of minor importance in comparison to the pall of silence they will have created.
And, of course, the continued courage of the Baron must be acknowledged. In the aftermath of Oslo, he lost some boon companions; he feels their absence deeply but he is determined to stay the course on which he finds himself. I’ll be honest: it’s getting more difficult now. But hard circumstances bring out his fierce determination. He will be here.
For the moment, we’re floating gently in a safe harbor.
For the wrap-up, I want to mention all of you:
Stateside: Arizona, California, Georgia, Illinois, Iowa, Michigan, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Texas, and Virginia
Near Abroad: Canada
Far Abroad: Australia, Belgium, British Virgin Islands, Croatia, Denmark, France, the Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Slovakia, Sweden, and the UK
Needless to say, donations from Norway and Sweden are particularly welcome this time. They’ve been hard hit by Black Friday’s aftermath and I know we may have lost some donors because of their fear. That is understandable.
On the other hand, several have written comforting notes to accompany their gifts, one of which I will mention in a moment. First, though, I want to point our some anomalies. As you’re aware, when a state or country is mentioned on a given day, or in the wrap up, we don’t give numbers for each place; it would be time-consuming and mistakes in counting would be likely. But we do notice when we receive a plurality of donations from those “Blue” (i.e., very liberal) states here in the US, where Democrats rule, or from European countries especially known for their socialist politics.
Thus, our donors from New York, Michigan, etc., are a welcome surprise, always. But this time, the state with the most donors is Illinois. Infamous Illinois, permanently crippled and bankrupted by Democrat crony politics, the home state of Barack Hussein Obama. So to you donors from Illinois — yes, we noticed!
Another anomaly is the increase in donors from Canada. Is that because you know we tithe to your fellow-countryman, Vlad Tepes? His work is certainly value-added to Gates of Vienna.
As far as the pattern in giving went this time, there were fewer donors. I rather expected that. The summer bleg is always smaller. Besides, it is so soon after Oslo. However, the good news is that the average donation was larger, so the fewer donors were made up for by the larger amounts given. In other words, we squeaked by again.
We never look farther than the quarter we’re in. As long as things remain steady, we’re open for business. No one ever promised us stipends or foundation monies. We don’t work for anyone but you, gentle reader. Despite what you may hear about those huge sacks of shekels dropped off at our door in the middle of the night by Mossad, it’s sadly untrue. The people passing around that breathless bit of paranoia are the same folks who are convinced Fjordman “looks Jewish”. Maybe it’s his beady eyes? Or the way he rubs his hands together while gleefully plotting the overthrow of the Vikings? They ought to get together with the crowd who are convinced Fjordman “hid” his computer from the police in a — (pick one): a) his bank vault; b) a trash bin; c) a secret locker.
This fundraiser has not only been blessed with some exceptional generosity from Sweden and Norway, but in addition I received this note, one which I shall cherish. It makes up for all the hate mail to know this person has been touched by our work:
Doing what I deem right has always been the core of my personality, and your sincere reply has made me even more certain that this donation is in good hands.
I have recently started to read at GoV, I too, as so many others was led to it by the horrible association drawn between your love for truth and the atrocities committed by Anders Behring Breivik. I went to the blog with an open mind, knowing in my heart and mind that no one other than the perpetrator himself was to blame for his actions.
During the last few weeks I have eagerly been reading the daily updates, as well as going through the important posts. The information on your blog has made me open my already open eyes even further, and I am now truly grasping the state of misery we are in, and how far the Islamisation has come.
Regarding the hate letters you mention; Norwegian society is slowly turning into an endless spiral of naïve idiocy, advocated by primarily “Arbeiderpartiet/Labour Party” and the left, oblivious to what they are doing with our society. Were it not for “Fremskrittspartiet/Progress Party”, the creeping Sharia would be halfway up the stairs to “Stortinget/the Parliament”.
Trust in me that there are those that are not blinded by the welfare states propaganda about the “religion of peace”, but so many are afraid to voice their opinions! We need a strong leader to say what political correctness prevents, reading about Hillary Clinton and the OIC and her “shaming” strategy is exactly how it is here in Norway…
A new party with a clear ideology for people to support is what we need, and in that struggle, the guidance of such as you and the Baron is priceless in order to get access to the facts and evidence accumulated and analyzed over the years by your efforts on GoV.
I hope to make an effort to rescue the tattered remains of my beloved homeland, that has become the socialist hell I live in.
I am glad you did decide to have the donations after all, you can not supply the crew of your hearty boat on thin air happy thoughts alone. Remember, that in all the hardship and struggles you have endured, my spirit and mind is with you and the Baron, keep on spreading the word of truth and never be afraid!
God bless all of our donors for your generosity. We’ll see you in November.