Mick!
TreeHouser
I think you’re getting the wrong end of the stick Cory.
Tree felling vids
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Burnham
Woods walker
Care to point me to a few of these posts to which you're referring, Cory?
Frankie
I Build and Run Ported Saws !
As opposed to the short end of the stick ? The shit end of the stick ?
pantheraba
More biners!!!
It escaped me too. I don't know much about sticks.
It might be an Englishman in a Frenchman's court kind of a thing??
It might be an Englishman in a Frenchman's court kind of a thing??
A brief search gave me this...
www.theidioms.com
I always associated it with the last paragraph.
On topic, the same search also gave me this...
:^P
get the wrong end of the stick
get the wrong end of the stick meaning, origin, example, sentence, history
www.theidioms.com
I always associated it with the last paragraph.
On topic, the same search also gave me this...
:^P
Burnham
Woods walker
Because what he posted revealed both an ignorant and pretty stupid point of view, in my opinion. I get to have one, right?
And if you cannot show me where I have posted something that reads like it came from drunken delirium, then I'll assume you have none that can show such. Which of course, begs the question of what I have said or done that put you in that mind, if I made it in a otherwise sober frame.
Frankly, I'd welcome evidence that what you posit is so...if I have embarrassed myself here after a glass of scotch or two I'd really like to know it. I don't like the idea of embarrassing myself in front of my friends. If I have done so, I need to make some changes.
And friend I have always considered you Cory, and still do. I hope we can get back on an even keel.
FireFighterZero
Captain Zero!
Hahaha!
I kinda thought ya came off like a dick B!
Disagree fine.....call someone a stupid drunk....sorta dickish.
The days are getting short....
I kinda thought ya came off like a dick B!
Disagree fine.....call someone a stupid drunk....sorta dickish.
The days are getting short....
Burnham
Woods walker
Jim, and the rest of y'all...if Jed had not over and over again admitted to posting what, in his own after action reviews called stupid stuff because he'd had too much to drink, it would not have crossed my mind to post my rebuttal to him in the way I did.
I'm sorry this has gotten traction. I will desist, and I apologize to both Jed, and the 'House in general.
I'm sorry this has gotten traction. I will desist, and I apologize to both Jed, and the 'House in general.
FireFighterZero
Captain Zero!
No problems with me.
Sometimes I post in the food thread after too much gravy......
Sometimes I post in the food thread after too much gravy......
Jed
TreeHouser
Corey: Yer a dear, and good heart, and a good man fer sticking up for me, if you thought that I was unduly taking shots from B, and I love ya! But Burnham and I are better than all good, and he shouldn't apologize, for what he calls, "having his own opinion." Moreover, the power of his memory displays a true interest for me as a brother when he points out that I have indeed, many times in the past, gotten myself very far from sober, and shot my mouth off around here in a manner that I deeply regretted after a good (if headachey) night's sleep, and this is shameful to tell.
I do not come to the Treehouse to be agreed with and validated on my current trajectory. I come here because there are other grown men ( btw this is why I DEEPLY love Stig ) who are not afraid to express their full viewpoint in favor of some effeminate desire to preserve or conform to a collective status quo; nor do they shy away from, "taking one on the chin," as Stig would have it. However, I also come here for some other more complicated reasons, and this perhaps bears the necessity for some fuller, if tedious, explanation. I believe that I have, what I call, a "thwarted writer's complex," and by this I do not mean that I feel myself to be a would-be writer who just happens to not write very well. I mean that whatever I write which might otherwise approximate, "good writing," is almost always thwarted by my inveterate and idiosyncratic love of bucolic solecism and aphorism. Thus the first sentence of this post, or for that matter, ninety per cent of what I usually type into my posts here. I do not expect normal people to understand this, nor do I even (and this is a curious phenomenon) really find it terribly funny myself, but nonetheless find it curiously hard to resist: the substitution of "yer" for your, "tooken" for took, etc. As I have said, it is a highly idiosyncratic tendency, and one which, for all I know, may well be greatly exacerbated by alcohol; but this leads me to my second point.
While I have certainly here in the past written things which I (and alas! others) have regretted after having consumed alcohol, I do not feel that in general, the stupid things that I have written here, were written because I was per se under the influence of alcohol. If this is a confusing statement, then by way of justification, I offer as evidence, this particular post which I am writing after having had, more than my usual ammount to drink; and unless I merely flatter myself, I feel that I am writing it in a reasonably coherent and readily apprehensible style. On this particular night, I blame my wife who has just given me some of her coveted Scotch, which she has one shot of, about twice per week. And now (though no one has even asked
) I will offer a few words about my drinking in general. When I was a Protestant, (and the times to which Burnham was referring stem from those days-- I have since become Orthodox.) I would regularly drink too much, and, to be honest, generally didn't feel too bad about it. After my baptism five years ago, and the partaking of the sacraments, (one of which is the sacrament of confession) I left off getting drunk, and I could count on one had the number of times in as many years that I have been to confession with that particular sin. I generally drink two stong IPA's per day after work, or after church, and if I have three, then is a special occasion, or because my buddy Tim came over, or maybe Brian, and this may get me into some small trouble with the little lady. If any tree guy on here feels this to be intemperate consumption, then I would, at the very least, be interested in his viewpoint. I however, am very much of the viewpoint that people generally drink far too little than too much.
Finally, I will attempt to offer to Burnham, Gary, Stig, and (if I understand him) Mick, a justification of everything I have said in my previous post regarding the Asian climber, although this time bereft of my usual redneckeries, and let us dispense with the notion that my Americanna slang is exactly what Burnham meant by, "ignorant and stupid opinions," for he was faulting me chiefly for the content and not the manner of my expressions. Premise number one: Westerners who have cultivated and promoted a highly safety-conscious society, are themselves rather miserable. It is we, the affluent and secure, who inhabit the region--largely delinneated by latitudinal lines--that sociologists have come to call, "The Suicide Belt." We in America have all of the opportunity, safety and security that a human being living in a fallen world could ever hope to want, but the very point of our lives has eluded us. We wear seatbelts, get flu-shots and tie-in twice, but we plummet headlong into alcoholism, drug addiction, psychology, sex and social media to try to kill off the meaninglessness or at least kill the time. I was told by an Englishwoman that pornography is now the chief financial export of the United States.
Premise number two: Southeastern Asia is not in the suicide belt. People there are so busy just making a living that they (in the main) hardly know what suicide is, and there is tremendous beauty and meaning in the struggle. I am asking all of you openly: when you watch that man, every muscle and nerve hottly engaged in bringing about it's desired outcome; when you see in his interview afterward, all of his wonderfully acute mental and spiritual energy, and feel in his smiling face and in his entire being, his enthused satisfaction in himself and in his place in this world; do you really, in your heart of hearts pity him because he could fall and die? Memento mori.
I do not come to the Treehouse to be agreed with and validated on my current trajectory. I come here because there are other grown men ( btw this is why I DEEPLY love Stig ) who are not afraid to express their full viewpoint in favor of some effeminate desire to preserve or conform to a collective status quo; nor do they shy away from, "taking one on the chin," as Stig would have it. However, I also come here for some other more complicated reasons, and this perhaps bears the necessity for some fuller, if tedious, explanation. I believe that I have, what I call, a "thwarted writer's complex," and by this I do not mean that I feel myself to be a would-be writer who just happens to not write very well. I mean that whatever I write which might otherwise approximate, "good writing," is almost always thwarted by my inveterate and idiosyncratic love of bucolic solecism and aphorism. Thus the first sentence of this post, or for that matter, ninety per cent of what I usually type into my posts here. I do not expect normal people to understand this, nor do I even (and this is a curious phenomenon) really find it terribly funny myself, but nonetheless find it curiously hard to resist: the substitution of "yer" for your, "tooken" for took, etc. As I have said, it is a highly idiosyncratic tendency, and one which, for all I know, may well be greatly exacerbated by alcohol; but this leads me to my second point.
While I have certainly here in the past written things which I (and alas! others) have regretted after having consumed alcohol, I do not feel that in general, the stupid things that I have written here, were written because I was per se under the influence of alcohol. If this is a confusing statement, then by way of justification, I offer as evidence, this particular post which I am writing after having had, more than my usual ammount to drink; and unless I merely flatter myself, I feel that I am writing it in a reasonably coherent and readily apprehensible style. On this particular night, I blame my wife who has just given me some of her coveted Scotch, which she has one shot of, about twice per week. And now (though no one has even asked
) I will offer a few words about my drinking in general. When I was a Protestant, (and the times to which Burnham was referring stem from those days-- I have since become Orthodox.) I would regularly drink too much, and, to be honest, generally didn't feel too bad about it. After my baptism five years ago, and the partaking of the sacraments, (one of which is the sacrament of confession) I left off getting drunk, and I could count on one had the number of times in as many years that I have been to confession with that particular sin. I generally drink two stong IPA's per day after work, or after church, and if I have three, then is a special occasion, or because my buddy Tim came over, or maybe Brian, and this may get me into some small trouble with the little lady. If any tree guy on here feels this to be intemperate consumption, then I would, at the very least, be interested in his viewpoint. I however, am very much of the viewpoint that people generally drink far too little than too much.Finally, I will attempt to offer to Burnham, Gary, Stig, and (if I understand him) Mick, a justification of everything I have said in my previous post regarding the Asian climber, although this time bereft of my usual redneckeries, and let us dispense with the notion that my Americanna slang is exactly what Burnham meant by, "ignorant and stupid opinions," for he was faulting me chiefly for the content and not the manner of my expressions. Premise number one: Westerners who have cultivated and promoted a highly safety-conscious society, are themselves rather miserable. It is we, the affluent and secure, who inhabit the region--largely delinneated by latitudinal lines--that sociologists have come to call, "The Suicide Belt." We in America have all of the opportunity, safety and security that a human being living in a fallen world could ever hope to want, but the very point of our lives has eluded us. We wear seatbelts, get flu-shots and tie-in twice, but we plummet headlong into alcoholism, drug addiction, psychology, sex and social media to try to kill off the meaninglessness or at least kill the time. I was told by an Englishwoman that pornography is now the chief financial export of the United States.
Premise number two: Southeastern Asia is not in the suicide belt. People there are so busy just making a living that they (in the main) hardly know what suicide is, and there is tremendous beauty and meaning in the struggle. I am asking all of you openly: when you watch that man, every muscle and nerve hottly engaged in bringing about it's desired outcome; when you see in his interview afterward, all of his wonderfully acute mental and spiritual energy, and feel in his smiling face and in his entire being, his enthused satisfaction in himself and in his place in this world; do you really, in your heart of hearts pity him because he could fall and die? Memento mori.
SeanKroll
Treehouser
That guy was impressive, doing the best with what he has.
432 here.
Today is shot.
432 here.
Today is shot.
pantheraba
More biners!!!
Jed... Masterfully put together. You are actually a wonderful writer and your use of words is exceptional and nice to read.
I think you are romanticizing too much the savage man that we saw in that video. I think that whether he was in his society or here and exposed to and using our methods of doing things, I think there's a good chance he would be who he is without the impetus and input of his deprived situation based upon where he lives.
In 2014 we had a martial arts camp here near Atlanta. A very big one with a lot of people coming in from around the country and several from outside of the country as various weapon systems of our art were demonstrated. There was a contingent of maybe eight people, brothers and sisters from Mexico, that came to be part of the training and demonstrations. We had a large field area where we would be doing demonstrations on Sunday and needed good coverage for guests that were coming in to view the demonstrations. Quite a few were world war two veterans and older folks that didn't need to be sitting in the sun for long periods of time.
We had erected one particularly large tarped tent that was difficult to set up. We had buried bamboo posts and figured out a way to mount a 60x60 tarp to provide the shade and protection we needed. It looked great during the day Saturday and seemed to be masterfully put together, and I was pretty proud of it since I was the one tasked with figuring out how to do it and make it happen.
That night, several of us were still training and sharing stories and training methods in the enclosed gym near midnight. Our mentor, the instructor I mentioned earlier that was involved in rescues and attempted rescues in WW2, was also there interacting with the people that were his students from all over the world. At one point one of his original and oldest students who habitually has been high on promises and low on delivery was once again walking on eggs as he interacted with the master. As the situation got more and more heated and the level of audible involvement expanded to a radius that included more and more of us, it became obvious that something was amiss.
As events inside the gym reached a crescendo we could hear a terrible moaning and tearing of the wind outside. The day had been beautiful and there was no reason to expect any kind of inclement weather. It was the devil wind, a tsunami that perfectly matched the madness we were seeing inside the gym and it was occurring outside. It truly seemed that my teachers madness of the moment had marshalled the moaning winds.
The student survived the blistering encounter but I was definitely concerned about my tarp set up. Sure enough, when I went out and looked at it with flashlights it was demolished...a horrible wreck of a mess strung together and all akimbo.
The few of us to see the mess, who witnessed what was waiting to be seen as the sun came up the next morning, did not tell the teacher. It seemed obvious there was nothing to be done except deal with the fallout the next morning. So I went to bed miserable trying to figure out how to explain why I did such a poor job setting this up and it could not handle that devil wind. He had already tasked us with developing the method for setting up a quick efficient tarp... He reminded us that when he worked as a boy soldier in WW2 part of what he did as part of the medical unit was to rapidly set up tent areas near the front line because they were treating soldiers that they had to drag back from the battle. He reminded us that we had the luxury of not being shot at or rained on while we set up the tarp.
God, this is a long story but I'm finally getting to the point I think. We all turned in but I woke up at 4:00 a.m. thinking about that tarp and just decided to screw it, we got to try something. My buddy, John, and I wandered through the dorms and made announcements that whoever heard us and was awake enough and wanted to help rebuild the tarp, we were headed to the field and meet us there.
Of course that got a lot of wtf from people... Most people... Some thought it was a bad dream, but some actually showed up with flashlights on the field.
One of those was a fellow I had only been around a little bit during the day from Mexico... Eduardo. He physically resembles very much the climber we just saw in that amazing video. His demeanor, his laugh, his work ethic, seemed basically identical to me. No matter what I asked to do that night as we approached the dawn, he seemed to be there to do it. If he saw me looking at something trying to figure out how to solve a certain problem, even though he didn't speak our language well, he had a very good idea on how to solve the problem. I still remember seeing him shinny up a 20-ft bamboo pole we had erected to mount a pulley up there; he held on with his feet and his legs and did all the tying just like the guy on the video, basically, and was amazing at it. Literally, as the sun started coming up we were putting the final touches on that 60x60 tarp and made it look even better than it was before when we had several hours to do it during the day on Friday. A large part of that was because Eduardo was there. Dr Gyi did not know about the devil wind wrecking the tarp until months later when we finally told him.
My point is that those wonderful spirited people exist everywhere. It's not necessary to be deprived in a non-suicide belt area to find those guys. That weekend, for those few hours, was my only time ever being around him. But that weekend and even now I still feel like we are brothers. His spirit of helpfulness, love of life, and of being were remarkable. And it is not a bromance. Just a deep appreciation of a fellow human that can get the most out of life no matter what the madness of the moment.
Okay... I just did all that without drinking. Never have, still don't, but I can wax as long-winded as you it seems. Keep checking in here, brother. We love you.
I think you are romanticizing too much the savage man that we saw in that video. I think that whether he was in his society or here and exposed to and using our methods of doing things, I think there's a good chance he would be who he is without the impetus and input of his deprived situation based upon where he lives.
In 2014 we had a martial arts camp here near Atlanta. A very big one with a lot of people coming in from around the country and several from outside of the country as various weapon systems of our art were demonstrated. There was a contingent of maybe eight people, brothers and sisters from Mexico, that came to be part of the training and demonstrations. We had a large field area where we would be doing demonstrations on Sunday and needed good coverage for guests that were coming in to view the demonstrations. Quite a few were world war two veterans and older folks that didn't need to be sitting in the sun for long periods of time.
We had erected one particularly large tarped tent that was difficult to set up. We had buried bamboo posts and figured out a way to mount a 60x60 tarp to provide the shade and protection we needed. It looked great during the day Saturday and seemed to be masterfully put together, and I was pretty proud of it since I was the one tasked with figuring out how to do it and make it happen.
That night, several of us were still training and sharing stories and training methods in the enclosed gym near midnight. Our mentor, the instructor I mentioned earlier that was involved in rescues and attempted rescues in WW2, was also there interacting with the people that were his students from all over the world. At one point one of his original and oldest students who habitually has been high on promises and low on delivery was once again walking on eggs as he interacted with the master. As the situation got more and more heated and the level of audible involvement expanded to a radius that included more and more of us, it became obvious that something was amiss.
As events inside the gym reached a crescendo we could hear a terrible moaning and tearing of the wind outside. The day had been beautiful and there was no reason to expect any kind of inclement weather. It was the devil wind, a tsunami that perfectly matched the madness we were seeing inside the gym and it was occurring outside. It truly seemed that my teachers madness of the moment had marshalled the moaning winds.
The student survived the blistering encounter but I was definitely concerned about my tarp set up. Sure enough, when I went out and looked at it with flashlights it was demolished...a horrible wreck of a mess strung together and all akimbo.
The few of us to see the mess, who witnessed what was waiting to be seen as the sun came up the next morning, did not tell the teacher. It seemed obvious there was nothing to be done except deal with the fallout the next morning. So I went to bed miserable trying to figure out how to explain why I did such a poor job setting this up and it could not handle that devil wind. He had already tasked us with developing the method for setting up a quick efficient tarp... He reminded us that when he worked as a boy soldier in WW2 part of what he did as part of the medical unit was to rapidly set up tent areas near the front line because they were treating soldiers that they had to drag back from the battle. He reminded us that we had the luxury of not being shot at or rained on while we set up the tarp.
God, this is a long story but I'm finally getting to the point I think. We all turned in but I woke up at 4:00 a.m. thinking about that tarp and just decided to screw it, we got to try something. My buddy, John, and I wandered through the dorms and made announcements that whoever heard us and was awake enough and wanted to help rebuild the tarp, we were headed to the field and meet us there.
Of course that got a lot of wtf from people... Most people... Some thought it was a bad dream, but some actually showed up with flashlights on the field.
One of those was a fellow I had only been around a little bit during the day from Mexico... Eduardo. He physically resembles very much the climber we just saw in that amazing video. His demeanor, his laugh, his work ethic, seemed basically identical to me. No matter what I asked to do that night as we approached the dawn, he seemed to be there to do it. If he saw me looking at something trying to figure out how to solve a certain problem, even though he didn't speak our language well, he had a very good idea on how to solve the problem. I still remember seeing him shinny up a 20-ft bamboo pole we had erected to mount a pulley up there; he held on with his feet and his legs and did all the tying just like the guy on the video, basically, and was amazing at it. Literally, as the sun started coming up we were putting the final touches on that 60x60 tarp and made it look even better than it was before when we had several hours to do it during the day on Friday. A large part of that was because Eduardo was there. Dr Gyi did not know about the devil wind wrecking the tarp until months later when we finally told him.
My point is that those wonderful spirited people exist everywhere. It's not necessary to be deprived in a non-suicide belt area to find those guys. That weekend, for those few hours, was my only time ever being around him. But that weekend and even now I still feel like we are brothers. His spirit of helpfulness, love of life, and of being were remarkable. And it is not a bromance. Just a deep appreciation of a fellow human that can get the most out of life no matter what the madness of the moment.
Okay... I just did all that without drinking. Never have, still don't, but I can wax as long-winded as you it seems. Keep checking in here, brother. We love you.
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Jed, i love you, and you have the eloquence of Shakespeare when you want to. However, i have to disagree with almost everything you had to say in the epic post there.
And there it is, the actual purpose of the post. Jed, no one can make you tie in twice. Most here want you to, so both your family and your friends here can continue to know you. Your assertion that Americans are miserable is completely unfounded and confusing. Further combining that into the suicide belt of the western US is even more confusing, especially because science has proven the effect is due to elevation differences, combined with rampant income inequality, substance abuse in party/resort towns, lack of social services, lack of family structure because of the transient nature of working resorts, e.t.c. So for my own lack of understanding, America is miserable because we're no longer on the razor's edge of death as we desperately try to feed our families? Is this seriously your thoughts on the matter?
Actually, yes I do. I'm totally amazed at his abilities , lack of fear, and clear headedness, but wtf that's literally some 3rd world shit where your six pack of ipa is a month's salary for him. What he's had to do to survive is crazy to me, because honestly i doubt i would ever go that far. Add the fact that southeastern asia is actually one of the world's leaders on suicide, and your argument completely evaporates. Struggling against poverty as a wonderful happy way to live is the craziest thing I've ever heard man. Hopefully I'm missing something, but that's seriously the craziest thing I've ever heard. We used to be like that here, and thankfully we've come a long way. Longing for the past with rose colored glasses ignores the sacrifices the previous generations made so that we could enjoy life without wondering how sharp death's sickle was today. #Memento mori
And there it is, the actual purpose of the post. Jed, no one can make you tie in twice. Most here want you to, so both your family and your friends here can continue to know you. Your assertion that Americans are miserable is completely unfounded and confusing. Further combining that into the suicide belt of the western US is even more confusing, especially because science has proven the effect is due to elevation differences, combined with rampant income inequality, substance abuse in party/resort towns, lack of social services, lack of family structure because of the transient nature of working resorts, e.t.c. So for my own lack of understanding, America is miserable because we're no longer on the razor's edge of death as we desperately try to feed our families? Is this seriously your thoughts on the matter?
Actually, yes I do. I'm totally amazed at his abilities , lack of fear, and clear headedness, but wtf that's literally some 3rd world shit where your six pack of ipa is a month's salary for him. What he's had to do to survive is crazy to me, because honestly i doubt i would ever go that far. Add the fact that southeastern asia is actually one of the world's leaders on suicide, and your argument completely evaporates. Struggling against poverty as a wonderful happy way to live is the craziest thing I've ever heard man. Hopefully I'm missing something, but that's seriously the craziest thing I've ever heard. We used to be like that here, and thankfully we've come a long way. Longing for the past with rose colored glasses ignores the sacrifices the previous generations made so that we could enjoy life without wondering how sharp death's sickle was today. #Memento mori
Burnham
Woods walker
I agree on all points.
Jed, the point of my life has not eluded me.
And I for sure am not made more inclined to suicide by using a saddle and lanyard to work in a tree.
Jed, the point of my life has not eluded me.
And I for sure am not made more inclined to suicide by using a saddle and lanyard to work in a tree
.
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pantheraba
More biners!!!
Well stated, Kyle. This is what really caught my attention, too.
Frankie
I Build and Run Ported Saws !
Be sober , be vigilant - for your adversary roams about as Lion , seeking who he may devour !
Another awesome post.
Aside from the very cogent arguments presented, it is quite clear that, we loves us some Jedidiah!!
