Rearranging The Deckchairs On The Titanic

‘Rearranging the deckchairs on the Titanic’ is a phrase sometimes used to describe the trivial or futile activities distracted people tend to engage in while ignoring much more existential or impending problems or crises. These busyworks or diversions are most often pointless because they cannot prevent or meaningfully address the larger issues or dangers at hand, such as the sinking of a ship. Whether it’s myth or legend a story is often told of how the Titanic’s orchestra played on right up to the last note, right up until the unsinkable ship sank, and the last boiler burst, and the last light went out, presumably to soothe those doomed souls that never made it to a lifeboat. The idiom is at best metaphorical and not based on historical fact. There is no documented evidence that anyone actually rearranged deckchairs during the Titanic’s sinking. The ship sank on April 15, 1912, after hitting an iceberg as big as any conspiracy theory surrounding the story. An estimated 1600 souls perished.

The earliest known printed use of the ‘deckchair’ phrase appears to be from 1972, in a remark about Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau’s cabinet shuffle, comparing it to rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic. Of course the phrase can be applied to a recent evil spawn of Trudeau’s reign of effeminate WOKE terror and their sashaying cabinet shuffles orchestrated to pacify a distracted population as GLOBALIST banker agendas are rolled out.

As happens so often these days during the kinetic and weather wars and financial and societal chaos, I allow myself to be drawn into the fear, shock and horror of what is happening in our world. I allow the anxiety of what is surely to come control what I feel and what I do to cope with these feelings. I find myself taking on small and medium tasks that may have been nagging at me over time, ones that I may have walked past many many times. I patch and paint nail holes and dents in the walls. I wash the windows and blinds. I start and stop the clutter cleaning and donation process. I have a late season garage sale. I address the data hoards on my computers. I delete files freeing up megaton megabytes of storage that have weighed so heavily on me. I sort through papers that used to mean so much and ‘pitch-in’. I clean my tiny front and back yards in preparation for the coming winter, the dark and cold winter. I pack up anything that shouldn’t be allowed to freeze. I replace or clean my furnace and humidifier filters. I check and rotate my winter food stores. I break out the winter wear. I clean my home excessively and move things from here to there. I pick lint.

More recently and since my dear cat Ninja died, I find myself almost reluctantly cleaning traces and leavings of him. He had suffered from an apparently untreatable upper respiratory infection that resisted even more natural and holistic remedies. I am still finding sad little flecks of dried snot and blood and fur in the the oddest places. I find his toys where even he couldn’t retrieve them.

I can easily liken my excessive viewing of distracting online streaming diversions and fear mongering doom news channels to rearranging digital deckchairs while fire and flood and kinetic and weather war rage on and the political globalist threats of authoritarian crackdowns are enacted into unlawful laws. They scream for you to leave Canada while you still can but going anywhere else is just buying time.

I will prepare to hunker down or resist.

Is Canada a sinking ship?

Are there any or enough lifeboats?

Are you rearranging your Ikea or Temu deckchairs?

Could Alberta be a lifeboat?

Time and effort will tell.

Meanwhile I’ll do the dishes while watching the latest from Charly Sinewan as he offroad adventures his way through South America down to Patagonia – a place I’ve been – and long to be out on my own two wheels instead of four going somewhere else – and wait for my door to be broken down by armed government thugs wanting to arrest me for something I posted four years ago or to confiscate my private property.

Should I pray for the bastards, my tormentors?

It’s a sunny, surprisingly clear but cold today. I think I’ll go for a walk later, after I’ve started a batch of Hungarian goulash. It’s Thanksgiving. I’ll give thanks and pray for the safekeeping of good people.

It passes the time.

It eases some of the anxiety.

Jona Lewie was clever and talented writer and performer of catchy and quirky sorta hits and lesser known works. He wrote songs like, ‘I think I’ll get my hair cut’, ‘You’ll always find me in the kitchen at parties’, ‘Big shot momentarily’, and ‘Louise ( we get it right )’. Of course everything sounds better in HI-FI.