Prolitarian Pioneer...THE BOOK!

 Prolitarian Pioneer is essentially for grown ups...it speaks of, and to, the people of the world who do ALL of the actual work.

Prolitarian Pioneer properly redefines the made-up labels "Nostalgia" and "Prolitarian", as wel as challenging endless conventional dogmas. 

It does not seek to teach, lead, or control...it neither babysits nor pulls any punches... it asks only that you open your eyes, and challenges you to follow your heart and your hands into engaging and embracing "Life between the Habit and the Dream"

While easily 90% of the population live their adult lives, hopefully, opaquely, driven or carried by their robotic work ethics on one hand, and their unreachable dreams on the other... only the true Prolitarian could be at ease "in the middle"

Prolitarian Pioneer is a suspicion, a wake up call, an idea, and a resource pool. It is the voice that finally names the hidden legacy...and shines a light on a Sleeping Giant. 

This is REAL information for REAL people, so if you believe in the "wall of words", this fraternity is probably not for you...so should you become frightened ( angry ) while perusing this offering, please return to some "safe" dogma..

Frank & Vanilla

So how did it come to this?...why should I be pointing out blatantly obvious aspects that anyone could see with their eyes closed, and their hearts open? Well, something was not computing, I had hit the "Wall of Words"...the classic "observation vs explanation" paradox...where what they keep telling you is not what you keep seeing. The world was a sea of hollow, incomprehensible, labels & lies, comprised of a bueraucracy of spineless morons,and a vast ocean of vanilla, robotic sheep, called the "status quo". REAL was no longer on the table, and common sense was cleaning windshields at stoplights for pocket change.

Now, I'll admit to being a black sheep, or perhaps I'm just a troublemaker, at any rate I call Bullshit on the system, and, moreover, I'm suggesting, indeed LIVING, an alternative.

This is all about accepting & honoring " Life between the Habit and the Dream". So grab your hearts ,and tag along...but leave your Egos behind,...because....

You may be a "Prolineer" IF....

...you would like to live debt free, and not continuously say " yes sir, yes ma'am"...

...you like the idea of working 20% of the time and LIVING 80% of the time...

...you have a skill, a trade, some tools, and can actually DO something...

...you care more about whether something actually works, than if it looks good for the neighbors...

...you would like to interact with people who actually DO life instead of crying, moaning, pretending, and criticizing...

...you want to be a part of the most powerful groundswell/heartswell movement on earth... 

 ...Back to real...

I stand at the end of a length of grass choked sidewalk, adjacent the railway avenue of my home town, surveying the the time worn concrete panels I trod as a boy, nearly a half century ago. Nothing moves, nothing sounds, yet my awareness is filled with not mere memories, but rather, "recall"...the sights, the sounds, the smells. And neither is it sad, until it fades, to be replaced with modernity. They call the phenomenon " Nostalgia", and define it as "a generic longing for old things & old times"...and I call Bullshit!  The town is home to perhaps 20 people, the post office being the last vague hint of bygone commerce. They burned the beautiful school, destroyed the grain elevators, and closed the wonderful, giant general store/mercantile. The handfull of private businesses died with their founders. Another pandemic, albeit classic, example of the  incomprehensible neurosis labeled "progress".           

  Toward the end of the 1800's, a war was declared on REALNESS. It would come to initially carry the clever label "industrial revolution". Essentially, in those days, beyond people actually knowing who they were, they also knew how to do what they did. You had craftsmen/craftswomen at every level, from novice to apprentice, to journeyman. They wrote their own warranties, upheld their own ethics, and advertised through their quality. But they did not need bankers, or corporations, or monopolies. They certainly did not support the modern custom of doing poor work at a cut rate, nor offshore manufacturing. So, the beauracratic, corporate model could not " progress" ( to monopolization, exploitation, and offshore panacea ). Clearly, the troublesome craftsmen had to go. So a brilliant plan was hatched , in which, a craftsman was studied, and his/her craft was broken down into as many steps as necessary to render each step simplistic. People were then coaxed, and coerced, to perform these simplistic steps individually, and mash all the bits together as best they could. The product was ,of course, a piece of shit, but it fast & cheap, and the work force could now be controlled economically (lent money). And Viola! the (real) American Dream was up and running. For control purposes, it would, of course be cleverly labeled "progress". However, this chronic shift in "culture"had to be methodically , cleverly sold to the masses...the workers had to be convinced that they were not on the bottom rung of the social ladder. So the " Prolitarian" label/model was invented...these were supposedly the lowest class of people extant , and clearly lower than the newly labeled "blue collars". Cursory research, however, will reveal that this fictional class of people did not actually exist, and that the string pullers, power mongers, and self proclaimed "upper class", in fact, attached the label to the blue collar populace itself.

  At "ground level", there are two parts to a woman or a man...the Heart & the Ego. These aspects are not mere rivals, they are mortal enemies, as nothing fights the heart but the ego...and nothing terrifies the ego more than the heart. They are, in effect, theCEO's of the duality of man. 

...Heart is intuition, Ego is intellect...

...Heart is knowing, Ego is reasoning...

..Heart is respect, Ego is fear...

...Heart is passion, Ego is production...

...Heart is emotion, Ego is drama...

...Heart is co-operation, Ego is competition...

...Heart is inspiration, Ego is motivation...

  I trust you get the picture, for doubtless you have lived this picture.  And you may ask, where is Spirit?...Spirit is the grandfather of the heart, it stands with it's hand on hearts' shoulder, and is why, ultimately, heart is stronger than ego.

  T he point being, that Heart is craftsmen...and Ego is progress...

...'Townsite"...

Part and parcel with the selling of the industrial revolution, came the labels and the illusions...the 'white collars", and the "staus-quo", and the headlong , heartless pursuit of worth through external validation. No longer were you judged by your skill or reliability, you were now judged by the vintage and sheen of your automobile. Fast forward to 2015 and you discover an endless ocean of vanilla sheep, one indiscernible from the next.    My father crossed the Atlantic ocean at the age of 7, arriving in Canada in 1925, arrived in Manitoba just in time for the depression, and subsequently the ww2 scam.   As a boy, every adult I knew was clear about who they were and what they did, they did not require a TV or dumbfone to tell them. My father was a farmer and a lumberman, with his own land and his own sawmill, which he built. Precious few farmers or lumbermen have survived, only moron mouthpieces for chemical conglomerates, and faceless corporations spewing "green" scam dogma. And behind this chronology lies the reason for the dogmatic, indeed, desperate agenda to misconstrue "Nostalgia & Prolitarian".

"Nostalgia" is a clever label invented to confuse us about who we are. Far from being merely a "generic longing for old times & old things", it is, in fact, a cellular roadmap indexed to positive experiences. It is RECALL, not mere memory, it is heart, not intellect. ( ever wonder why nostalgia is always positive?). This is positive cellular resonance, reminding us of who we are, and consequently, indeed neccesarily, indexed to what we call "the past". This is true both chronologically, and culturally, as we have systematically brought the world closer to resembling a garbage dump since the beginning  of recorded history. Originally we all understood, indeed lived, "nostalgia",we were Artists Without Acclaim. The true prolitarians became the unknowing gaurdians of this energy  as they continued their generations, working with their hearts and hands.

And this is why the truth has been desperately, dogmatically hidden....THOSE WHO KNOW THE TRUE NATURE OF "NOSTALGIA & PROLITARIAN" WILL NOT BE LED AS SHEEP...

But I digress, we have illuminated some marvelous ghosts, and they may live again amongst us now, for they are nothing less than the magic that gives our hearts wings,...and HANDS!

"What was I thinking!"

 When I was about 15 years old, I began a journey...over the decades I have re-labeled it, re-defined it, and re-understood it. At first I called it adventure, and it pulled me with irresistable, joyous, persistance, ( that's labeled "nostalgia" now). although too young to legally drive, I would accompany an older friend on his trips to neighboring cities for repairs for his business, and drive through the nights while he "slept", up against the passenger door of the pickup. At the age of 18, I procured my "big-truck" license, and set out to criss cross the continent. I logged over 4 million miles, from the impossible cold of northern Canada, to the impossible heat of northern Mexico...from the Atlantic ocean to the Pacific ocean. Through the farmyards, factories, steel mills, lumberyards, and endless towns and cities. Through the lives of thousands of prolitarians. My youthful optimism was slowly dulled by something tangible yet unspoken, in the faces, behind the eyes, of those thousands. And I began to re-label my quest, I began to admit I did not understand it, for it seemed that I should long since have discovered the source of my juvenile joy. And I questioned my peers, and they mostly parroted " it's love" that you seek, a nebulous commodity supposedly owned by the one special person on a planet of millions whom will magically complete you as you reciprocally complete them, (and they magically probably live nearby). Seriously?

With renewed confusion, and dwindling optimism, I continued my journey, but alas, only dissapointment. And now my peers said "well, love is just a metaphor... satisfaction, that's what you seek!"  Long story short, I climbed the social ladders, I got all the "stuff" even the T-shirts, I collected all the supposed pieces of the satisfaction puzzle, and while my ego, and my "society" kept telling me I had arrived, my spirit told me , through my deteriorating body, that I was on the wrong track.   For some reason, when I hit "the wall", I did not collapse, but rather, dragged myself to the top so as to glimpse what lay hidden beyond.

But there was no Nirvana, not even redemption...there was only Me.

I began to drift laterally, I began to challenge my fears (ego). I began to build a shell of contempt between myself and the "wasteland of knowledge". My relentless search for the face of "love" had driven me countless times over the rock strewn path between the Storehouse of Conventional Wisdom, and the School of Hard Knocks. At great length I found her...at the "bottom". Now, the Bottom is not what you might expect, there is no quaint roadside cafe, or even a signpost. The bottom is simply a point in time & space where your heart & your ego fight to a standstill. A damp blanket of indifference descends over you, but finally you can SEE. When at last I saw the face of love, I cried...then laughed with maniacal despair...then cried again, for I realized I had seen her before, in a thousand places, in a thousand faces...and I saw why nobody actually wanted her, yet all claimed that they did. For she was ALL of those labels,... satisfaction, nostalgia, pride, joy...she was simply HEART, she was nothing more than "positive co-creation",...BUT NOTHING LESS!  She was NOT sacrafice, martyrdom, c0-dependance, mutual completion, and not "for sale!" And suddenly it all made sense, actual "love", (positive c0-creation) obliterated any chance of tyranny, hierarchy, monarchy, monopoly, Big Dog, Chief,or beuracracy...but it required (self) responsibility...so the conventional (convenient) LIE of love could be easily sold. I was stunned, no wonder the world was such an ocean of pretending...but how could the pandenmic scam have been sold, for centuries?! and yet, I had just LIVED the scam, even while questioning everyone continuosly! It was as though everything REAL was a mystery, ego literally had a choke hold on our hearts. It felt hopeless, I could not trust more than one or two people that I knew. I grew a thicker shell around myself, frequenting the southwestern deserts, tying to reconcile a solitary existance...but my heart could not bear it, so at length, I dragged myself back into the ocean of 40 watt humanity.My only plan was to follow my heart, and hope to find a few others at the base of the wall who had begun to hear their hearts.

The actuality was daunting yet fascinating,...easily over half of the population, the prolitarians, still heard the whisper of their hearts...collectively they formed an astonishing "sleeping giant". It occurred to me, that with the help of another giant, the "silicon giant", a black sheep, a troublemaker, a Prolitarian Pioneer, may be able to instigate a groundswell, or "heartswell", of awakening.

"The Shop"

The supposed "material" aspects of what we term "life"break down into roughly three categories..."actuality", "reality", and "truth". Actuality is "what IS", "Reality" is what we call "life on earth", and "truth" is merely a series of transient agreements bouncing around between the two.

Now understanding the aspects of the Game of Man, I began to understand why the giant slumbered. Knowledge afforded me a new quiet optimism ...I re-joined capitalism with a wiser eye and and less confused spirit. I thought perhaps a bridge, or positive concession could be discovered between "modernity" and Realness. I built a small continental transportation company, and once again moved through the lives, and worldviews, of the sleeping prolitarians. I was amazed at the extent to which ego had gagged and blinded their hearts. The "concept" of competition had trampled the instinct of co-operation...and worse, the two had become barely indistinguishable, replaced by a randomized phenomenon I call "co-operative stupidity". This is the pandemic neurosis by which one KNOWINGLY  participates in a stupid action or agreement. Sound familiar? Not surprisingly, peoples' impulse to co-operate (Heart) is slightly stronger than their need to be REAL. While the mechanics behind this phenomenon would fill a few more books, I digress,...my mission was to discover a tool/method/model of allowing/remembering/living in some REAL fashion either in unison with modernity, or, in spite of it.The relentless murmer of hearts, seeping through the gag of Ego, had manifested as labels/mentalities either safe or extreme. Not too surprisingly, a feast or famine flavour trademarked the cellular awareness of the wont to be real.

One one hand were the endless, pedestrian actions supported by "convention"...the "Green" scam, the "Eco" scam, the "Energy" scam, all specifically designed help people pretend they were "being real".Conversely, there were the radicals and the extremists...the hoarders, escapists, preppers, survivalists, off-grinders and revolutionists. And, as usual, these fell squarely into categories of "ineffective" and "impractical"

Where was the fun?, where was the inspiration?, the co-operation? Why was there nothing in the middle that served the hearts, the hands, the history, of the common man? Why should the world need to either explode or implode for one to experience a life based in common sense and natural (Not "normal") action? It was, of course, the cute, albeit ridiculous, thing convention does by pretending inverse definition...thier 'sanity", is obviously insane.

At length, I opted for help...Iwent to the street corner where Common Sense was cleaning windshields for pocket change, and said "hop in".We had a very long talk, punctuated by bouts of reminiscent glee...he was a fascinating refugee.Ultimately, and obviously, he concluded, "you're gonna have to build it, you're gonna have to name it, you're gonna have to make it OK to be real "in the middle". I knew he was right, although I had hoped for a bit of a likeminded gang at the outset. Through decades of living research into the "human condition", I had postulated, then articulated, a life model I call Spiritfarming. This evolved from the discovery that our basic state is Freedom, Not "security", and our PRIMARY goal is is to build a personal "Spiritfarm'...a personal condition/environment of freedom. Not freedom next Tuesday, or when the cows come home, or when we get some various abilities or permissions...but NOW, "Freedom on tap" you might say, whatever that means to You. I went on to discover that the model consists merely of "moving easily and repeatedly between freedom and joy". While this may seem confusing, it must be remembered that freedom is your BASIC state, therefore it is your position of relief from everything, yes, even joy. Spiritfarming may be seen as the original "Ego Assassin". Spirit farming accepts that "man" has become the epitome of duality...half intuition half intellect, half natural half normal, half modernity half history. It followed that a spirit farmer takes the  good with the good with the good, and ignores the bad. He/she uses what works, and ignores what doesn't. In other words, a spirit farmer follows his/her affinity, whether mystical, modern, or marginal...the goal is not to change the world, but rather, to identify, claim, and sustain his/her place the world as it is.

Shop - interior

The task of building the "first" piece, of what I hoped would be a large remembering of "heart&hands", took some consideration. It would need to be significant enough to bear a new name, yet I did not want to teach, lead, or convert. I wanted to awaken fellow "Prolineers', and  just be an integral part of a huge resurgence of equals. I settled on a fairly large "living" experiment I call Proletarian Pioneer. it endeavours to teach through interaction. Designed to challenge conventional concepts, redefine dogmatic labels, and address the numerous trends such as Urban Exodus, Rural Revival, Personal Agriculture, Ecosophy, etc,etc.

So the day arrived when I was obliged to '"walk the walk"...I sold the fancy house, loaded my life into a BIG box, and left "social notion", and the "fast lane" of pretend. I had purchased an entire block of a small town, complete with a shop and a small house, a large garden area,and a treed area, for $5000,(yes,$5000). While these buildings require extensive rebuilding, they are serviceable, and require more time than money to reconstitute. Also, the main point of my project/experiment involves the Proletarian nature, these are the people who DO everything! Years earlier, I had purchased a 1908 church, a couple of blocks away, to be used for storage etc. It will now be re-purposed into what I call the Made&Found Manor...an over the top, eclectic, hand built energetic destination for folks participating in the Proletarian Pioneer experience. Nearby, on the first shoulder of a small "mountain" range, I co-own 160 acres of forested heaven that has been dubbed "Wildernear". Replete with spring water, located nicely above the poisoned ag lands below, it lies on the fringe of millions of acres  of Provincial Forest Preserve. This property will be evolved into a powerful , interactive, ecosphical destination complete with some thematic lodging for participants. The idea, is to essentially create a large, sustainable, evolving, inhabitable work of art...the Art of Real.

 The hope is develop ways to utilize the Silicon Giant to reveal our existence to the slumbering giant, the Proletarian populace. There are curves in the road, learning curves, and un-learning curves, but at least now I'm having fun, and there seems to be a huge shortage of fun. Proletarian Pioneers...we are the black sheep & the bulldogs...so pull the 'wool" from in front of your eyes, and tag along, in every way in which you're able...cause we're playing' with all the good stuff!

"Rat Bus" & "Rat Trailer"@ Made & Found Manor

"Wildernear"-autumn trail

Made & Found Manor

"Wildernear"-winterview