The Cepia Club Blog

The Cepia Club Blog post non-fiction literature & policy analysis articles for some alternative news, views, solutions, and perspectives. We believe individual awareness and activism can lead to a peaceful and prosperous world. We advocate for what we term "Libertarian Internationalism" in a time we describe as the "Post-Historical Era."

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Wonder Pory Psalm: From: Alphabet Psalms

Wonder Pory Psalm
From: Alphabet Psalms
By: Pi Kielty (posthumously)
Found: January 10, 2017



Wonder Pory Psalm


The depths of thee, your empathy, always mark you strange. Where you walk, you wander, and call your father's name. The odd cloth you wear, what you do, you've always done your same. How you talk to raptured rooms, you rebel toward your early tomb. Then you feel around that shore, and command a stormy sway? What makes you different, we cannot tell, yet we feign embrace your bizarring self. You carry them, then leave them all, for hills you roam, in desert realms. Eating what, but clay? What heights you see? How wise you know? Then talk of things ancient old, yet still removed our ills away. That simple path, without silver you trod, and show those things you pray. We wonder. It makes you odd, but now we see, your bloody crown, hands, and hobbled legs. We see your wondering soul. At your grave, we saw the stone, now pushed and rolled. He saved. Forgive us, Lord, for we thought you strange. You left the world. We remained. We live with guilt and sinful shame. Now we grieve our awful crime. In last, we see the Wonder. We need you more, and once and more, as time returns. We pray you welcome. Please, Lord, reveal more wonder. . . come home with us and Stay.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

The Low Adventures: Trekking Superior Hiking Trail Part 1: Introduction

The Low Adventures: Trekking Superior Hiking Trail
Part 1: Introduction
By Tim Krenz
November 29, 2016

Why on god's otherwise even-leveled earth did I spend two or three weekend trips a year, or sometimes 8 or 9 days, climbing trails with a heavy backpack, if those trails always went up and up hills and moutainish peaks, instead of the nice, level ground between them; or walk almost 800,000 steps on the soles of battered, smelly boots; to cover almost 280 miles of trail, sightseeing detours, and spur trails to the car and back; why did I endure warm or freezing rain, snow, and depressive heat that made fog over Lake Superior on hot, sunny, windless days; for what did I trek in total from Two Harbors just north of Duluth, MN, to the Canadian border, and not in a straight line or in any sections of trail that made any logical order or plain sense in the way we did them?

For almost a decade now, I pondered that question: The “why did I do it?” question. What compelled me to challenge my overweight body and my smoker's lungs, my crooked knees, my butt-grabbing pain to literally carry myself over the next step or hill? The severe challenge of the Superior Hiking Trail now rests in a hubristic memory, a feat that I did that which so many others did in much better style, and could do in a few weeks what took me and my worn out body six years to find time to finish.

I swore at those hills that never stopping climbing. I cursed the rain that forced me to eat cold suppers of some dehydrated crap in a metal bag, in my tent, while I wrote the journal of this low, not high, adventure. I know the answer now, to most of my questions, and the “why did I do it?” question. I will admit no guilt, other than accomplice in this particular story of my life. The camping high court of adventure gods would not condemn me for my act of extended temporary insanity. Why did I trek the Superior Hiking Trail? Well, I blame my good friend, Craig.

The story, of course, has its beginning. This story began in November of Two-Thousand-and-One. By then, I had lived in my apartment for over two years, since around the time Craig returned from Africa with his Peace Corps fiance, Jennifer, the daughter of a Kansas pastor. The apartment on main street Osceola, WI, itself possessed many qualities besides spacious rooms. It owed a view from its upstairs window of Wilke Glen and the Cascade Falls, and rebounded the sound of crashing water to white noise me asleep or into relaxation whenever I left the window open

Craig still calls that the ultimate bachelor writer's pad. Aside from the window views from the top of the corner building, downstairs, I could sit on the sidewalk at the coffee shop next door, and I could walk to the public library or the brazier for ice cream, both of those within one block. Most of all, as Craig said, I had a trout stream and the Mill Pond kitty corner across Cascade Street. I lived an idyllic, though rather empty life. Of importance to me, two months before that day in November 2001, I committed to significant changes in my personal and spiritual life, heretofore run rampant in lethargy and slackness. I had barely begun that razor's path of enlightened learning, but I knew fuller, more purposed and even some deliberate living lay ahead.

That November Saturday, Craig brought his family to Osceola to visit his parents, and he stopped by my place alone to talk about Bill Bryson's book, A Walk in the Woods. Then he asked me to trek the Superior Hiking Trail on the northern Lake Superior shore together with him. While I fitfully watched a tense, and ultimately disappointing, Michigan-Wisconsin college football game, Craig talked. And he talked. And, . . he talked. The idea deeply intrigued me. I asked questions, but his answers always came clouded with no certainty as to how many years of weekend camping it would take us to complete the trips. But if anything happened to me, he promised get me off the trail, even if it took several trips (Huh?).

I always enjoyed camping, as a kid with my family, and in Boy Scouts. I always wanted to do long distance backpacking. With my new commitment to more vigorous, actual living, instead of dreaming, I eventually said, “Craig, I'll do it!” I felt enthused, and honored, that my good friend since college years, (we did not know each other in our smallish high school), asked me to go on this great adventure.

“Tim, let's go for ride,” Craig said. “My dad let me take his classic car today, his classic, mint conditioned car. We'll ride in style and talk more about it.” I did not know that Craig's dad had a collector's car, and I knew nothing about hot rods or “muscle cars,” so as the football game entered halftime, we went out the downstairs door and into the garden out the back of the shops.

We walked through the parking lot on that cool, cloudy fall day, and I asked Craig, “Where's the car?”


“Right there,” he pointed, at a classic and mint car. I looked at this immaculately-conditioned white car with a red racing stripe along its length on the side. Craig drove to my place that day in a great looking, flawlessly preserved, Ford Pinto. Although we had to wait for spring to trek the trail, the real adventure just began.

Tuesday, January 03, 2017

Welcome to Cepiaclub 2017

The Cepia Club LLC Description

The Cepia Club LLC, a community-based media company located in the St. Croix Valley of Western Wisconsin, provides media services and products to customers, clients, enterprises, and the public. Since its foundation as a limited liability company in December of 2007, Cepiaclub uses the access and resources of the world-wide web for both its own operations and to connect globally, The Cepia Club's core function seeks to both inform and empower others with clear, feasible options to reduce larger, even global problems, into smaller, manageable, local—even individual—solutions, whenever possible.

Through regular e- and hard-copy publications of Freedom Scene America!, Strategikon, and Normalcy Magazine, and special books, articles, and pamphlets, The Cepia Club's unique look at politics, economics, society, and culture, give handy, accessible guides to activism for any person, inside or outside the mainstream of America.

Freedom Scene America!, a short handbill publication for the CepiaNet and the general public, gives updates and news about our business and its operations. Strategikon, for invited readers and the Cepiaglobal Associated Membership Program, offers inside information on the latest public and private policies, etc. that impact readers, and how Cepiaglobal can influence them.

Normalcy Magazine, a free and advertiser-supported public document, lets global readers the insights and impacts of groundbreaking ideas and events, through essay, story, poetry, and other creative arts. Normalcy Magazine will challenge readers to think about the world, ask questions, and help those readers work toward the new normal they would like to see in their lives and in the world around them.

The Cepia Club LLC also produces modest broadcast programs and special features for either the discerning viewer or those inclined to lighter entertainment. Found on our Pikzl Vision T.V. Station, programs like the community news maker interviews on Freedom Affairs, or Cepia Community News, bring the same ideas and solutions to the viewers in a community-oriented format. Other presentations, including documentary, drama, music, sports, let viewers connect with community media.


Finally, as a supporter of a world connected to itself in a meaningful and valued relationship between people, The Cepia Club also provides resources, management, training, and helpful guidelines for others around the globe to help them and their community connect to each other in the spirit of a free idea, freely shared, for a peaceful and prosperous present and future.

Monday, November 28, 2016

Sub Terra Vita #45 Questing for Normalcy: Allowing the Change: Why? What Type?

Sub Terra Vita #45
By Tim Krenz
April 24, 2016
Rev. November 23, 2016

Questing for Normalcy: Allowing the Change: Why? What Type?

We need to engage in the discussion of change, because of the inevitability of change can assert its own means beyond human ability to control. Many cliche's about change in civilization nonetheless will sometimes hold true: “Nothing ever changes;” or “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Yet, these cliches usually speak power to apathy among people who feel powerlessness to change anything. Voice to this reason: Everyone has it in their power to make change in themselves, in their immediate surroundings, and somewhat beyond themselves—at any time in their lives if they choose to do it.

The ability to change anything takes what most people would only reluctantly give up, things like effort, work, ideas, energy and the irreplaceable quality of time. As a great industrialist once reportedly said, “If you think you can't, you're right!” The power of believing that change can happen, and that good can result from that personal action, demands the informed decision and hard work in the individual. Positive change requires willingness and effort to make it a reality.

If people want nothing to change, change will still happen without them, but it might not turn out well. If not done broadly, someone else or a motivated few will benefit from any change to the status quo, seizing the opportunity to profit from a mass reluctance to participate. Time does make everyone outdated in the end. In certain moments in history, those who failed to evolve with the new conditions ceased to keep their status, their prestige, their security, or their very lives in some instances. If a consenting majority does not involve itself in the process of change, then the few will profit. In that case, a small faction thereby obtains too much power in their own hands, which harms the good of the whole.

What level of change in our society would work best? In short, change from the bottom up in society, from the homestead and main street, actually has the most advantages for the greater good of all. In the world today, technology and the power relationships vibrate in an odd flux. How the changes we make or allow politically, economically, socially, and culturally to affect us here in the St. Croix Valley have more importance to people here, more impact for the good, here, than any amount of change a person tries to implement in the Madison Capitol or Washington, D.C.

To clarify the argument, a voter in the Valley, or even an activist, has little to absolutely NO IMPACT on state or national policy, unless, of course, they swing massive amounts of wealth. While that statement holds generally sound as a “gold rule” of higher level changes, only truly exceptional and visionary people, those few bright souls in a century, have the ability to affect change beyond their line of sight. But ultimately the simple voter and even the vocal and caring person, can change almost zero things beyond their home town. To use resources better and wiser, the focus put in the Valley or any hometown to make those necessary or desired changes can multiply effects—better and here, rather than wasted and frittered elsewhere.

On the optimistic side, the effort to change things grows naturally, the closer to home a voter, an activist, an entrepreneur, indeed ANYONE, puts her or his effort. And furthermore, those individuals or a community conscience will always find it harder to work alone to create the type of changes necessary. Whatever way the community defines as necessary and good changes for the most people, the entire community or a large portion must work together. Beware the change that the majority consent will not approve or cannot control. That type of force or unleashed spirit to only destroy the old without a consensus for viable, stable, and logical replacements will in the end unleash horrible consequences in which everyone gets victimized. Always seek changes that could unite and solidify a stable order in a community or region.


As implied above, a local change close to home can grow easier in a natural, steady way forward, with less disruption. Like a Frenchman named Talleyrand said about his country's 18th Century revolution, any upper-level or mass and chaotic disruptions in the name of changes will eventually “eat their children.” Digest those words, and do not gorge on change without thought and effort. Changes happen, with or without us. It remains the responsibility of all to help work for them and to guide them.  

Thursday, November 03, 2016

Redemption Pory Psalm

Redemption Pory Psalm
From Alphabet Psalms
By Pi Kielty (Posthumously)

Found: October 28, 2016

Timeless thought to redeem, God knew idle rest. Its awful dark pleased Him less. He drew his brow, with hand across, It, He divided. And He blessed it best. He tossed the light. It flickered then burned, then firmament from water, the land, His deed unspurned. Creating life full, no strifeful mirth, He created a heavenly place for earth. For one Godly blow, He made by Man's seed sown, yet loneliness perplexed the time future unknown.

He made Woman from the rib of the first one He'd done, then Adam and Eve joyed frolicking fun. The tree, the Knowledged hedge, eat not the fruit, He said. Temptering unspirit caused Eve to dare. And Adam ate, then sinwards they'd stared. Cast from paradise, moved on they roamed, growing fruit, on fruitless loam. The hard world began, ending that creation, now a harsh home, for their lonely, hopeless station.


Far the future, the angel did sing, “Thou with child,” that marriage unringed. “Immaculately conceived. To free from that sin, you must truly believe, Your redemption begins.” Then He came born, and an Empire fell, on the cross He gave all, rising from hell. He saved by cross, one made old, old laws to hear, a new Law, God told. Redemption, He owns, our souls in spell. Back to that garden. . . This time done well.

Wednesday, November 02, 2016

Peace Pory Psalm

Peace Pory Psalm
(Final)
From: Alphabet Psalms
By Pi Kielty (Posthumously)
Found: October 30, 2016

“Peace-Peace!”, to its makers. “Peace-Peace! Joy. . .praise. HOPE,” the taker of war's harrows spoke.

Peace-Peace!, comes a'las, bonding our faith, His garlands cast. An olive'd gift, none a sword—smite despair with soft fronds. The sad parts away, fast, beyond. Flocks hymn, hosted blast, a quiet holy, godly song.

Peace-Peace!, unto us, and our earthly kin. Never more our mortals war, for battles score deaths to win. No more tears, none for the dead. We wrong us poorly when blood we shed. His life, only, no hurt frowned. God saved our world. Earth rainbow crowned.

Peace-Peace!,without end, ever-and-all. He and we ascend, from the tomb's hell bleak, dark hall. He reclaims us, restoring. “Forever life,” this quiet morning. Our minds now know God's fair warning. “New wars, no more,” He answered our call. In full, He forgives our first garden's fall.


. . . The cannon go silent. . . . The second garden grows over them.

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Sadnight Pory Psalm

Sadnight Pory Psalm
From: Alphabet Pslams
By Pi Kielty (posthumously)

October 25, 2016


No man, nor flower, nor bird, no beast, not gathered by sun, nor 'pon garden's feast. God casted out, forever, the dark, the dim, and a glum, of a no where, nothing, no frolic, nor fun. Before a morning passed, God's hammered command sparked a light to blast. Warm life did swarm, and soon in distress. He bestowed one a likeness, the other his breast. Banning the void, He also left Night, leaving it dark, to fearful hiding, an unknow'd fright.

Time went. And the days did find and still eyes could see, yet Night aged, blind. And, too, grew old—lonely. It tolled darkest, the hummed tones chimed. Did ever God say, “Call Night never blessed, only matter, nor MINE”?


Unlighted, pale of dark, evenings creatures teemed. No smiles seen, in Night's lightless means. Night can only dream . . . of Creation. Day not daunted, it flees Night's 'vitation; day's settings timed and done. Always night left behind, a union unwon. Sad the Night remained. . . unwanted, . . . unloved. . . and awaited the joys of God's only shining Son.