We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
During the first winter 45 of the 72 passengers on the Mayflower died. Men, women, and children.
A lonely Squanto, who was a Godsend to the Pilgrims (few of whom were farmers, I think) died in 1622. He spoke English, having been sold in slavery in Spain, later taken to England. When he returned to North America, he found his entire tribal group dead from European diseases spread by explorers or Portuguese fishermen. (The large Indian farms were the ones that the Pilgrims took over.)
Their investors got screwed and the Pilgrims were in serious debt. Their London company, the Merchant Adventurers, hoped for good returns from timber, fur, and dried fish. Nope, never happened. Might well have happened had they arrived at the Hudson River. Those investors were unhappy.
Surely those Pilgrims were grateful for food, but for what else? I think gratitude was just bred in their bones. I would not compare them to Job, but it was rough.
Verlyn Klinkenborg! What a great name.
Hunting and gathering isn't just for savages and it is best to plant crops that are ideal for the local climate and soil.
America's future boat people will have to be tough as nails and the natives won't be so friendly upon landing.
Three cheers to the Pilgrims for leaving the land of spotted dick pudding, the great Johnny Rotten, and no ice cubes before it lost the Suez Canal and the sun set.
Tip of the hat to Squanto.