Ms Bauske

Funny you should ask.
What kind of work am I looking for?

Ms Ellen Bauske was the highschool biology teacher at Country Day School in the 1980's.
She was everyone's favorite teacher because she taught science. Everybody loves science because science explains our strange, fragile, uncomfortable existences in a vast unknown universe on a finite planet. It unravels and creates words that reveal mechanisms, chain reactions, chemistry between our brains and hearts and the food we eat, the air we breath, the water that sustains life.
Science is understanding.
The language of science is control and dominion over nature, over our selves.
Science is the study of how we've survived our past and why we are still able to imagine multiple futures despite every attempt to distract and blind us with doom, fate and shame.
Science is our way out of mortality.

But I didn't want to be a scientist.
I wanted to be a journalist.
I wanted to testify.
Without breaching walls, invading privacies or extracting valuables, I wanted to journal about real and fake news, to tell the story of the end of the world, the end of times, the paradigm shift between documentation and realization, between fear and freedom, big picture stuff.

Yesterday 25.01.2020 Ms Bauske reached out on the Facebook chat to help again.
A question, what KIND of work am I looking for?

We're all currently living in the multiverses of darpa, fluttering between sources of information, those who would keep their privacy private and those who have traveled the rabbit hole, opening doors and entering rooms named after Roberts, those who have attended the churches and bowed at the altars, and kissed the ringed hand in dreams.

I would work as I always have, at a table with other humans, sharing stories; waking before the sun to pray and to garden and to keep appointments. It would be a KIND of work were I to let money in IT. So that's what I want, to answer your question.

The work I want is letting money in.
The land is here, at La Ultima Finca, in Costa Rica. These are the last farms, I know where they are and how the water flows through them. I know all the plants personally, which animals and trees have disappeared in the last few years. How the street lights at night have gaslit the pollinators, the owls, the bats. I know that to make these farms fertile again, we need to repopulate the forest with snakes.

The money will multiply here, over time.
And since Ms Bauske is a science teacher, here's my wager.
$1200 divided over the next three months: February, March, April...
So that by May, I can ensure the seed funding of $12,000 to take my journal to the radio broadcasts to the north and south of the American continent and another $12,000 to bring the other journalists to a table where we can talk about the economic benefits of legalizing and growing hemp to replace and heal the damages of mining. Turn 12 hundred into 12 million over the next ten years.

A campaign to talk like grownups, about warfare and lawfare, about food, maps and timelines.