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The Beartaria Times Projections Show Possible Printer Purchase Going Into Q2

Van Allen Bear reports

Van Allen Bear

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It’s been a long time coming for The Beartaria Times to start competing with the billion dollar companies people have grown to be annoyed by. Rumors of The Beartaria Times’ future strategic investment plans have spread rapidly across the thriving startup culture of North Idaho.

Until now, rumors were unsubstantiated. But, due to my close proximity and vast industry connections, I have been able to verify the elaborate rumors that has “crushers” gaining more interest in The Beartaria Times.

I have confirmed via multiple text messages that The Beartaria Times will indeed make a strategic purchase for a new ink dispensing compositor, commonly known as a printer. This is going to ‘up’ the company value by a percentage that can only be speculated at this time.

Speculators and analysts have gathered in high controversy over the logistics of the acquisition and future productivity projections.

“The Beartaria Times could get a new printer or one from craigslist that would be tried and true”

Gary, not Terry


Gary, not Terry, responded to a request for comment and he makes some excellent points. He also added, “They may not want to risk being asked to pay $16 for a warranty, such a question poses a potential work-stop creating congestion in the administrative duties of the policy-making department.”

“Gary is a smart guy… when he talks, people listen, and warranty propositions do pose an increase in substantial thought processes,” inside sources say.

“We originally wanted everything etched in stone, but with the global shortage of chisels we began using scribes.”

Spokesperson for the beartaria Times

My sources at The Beartaria Times went on to say that they can no longer continue to use the scribes, “They have been on strike for weeks because Gary recommended it, people really need to stop listening to Gary.”

The Spokesperson continued to reveal new developments in the strategic printer acquisition, “A reconnaissance officer was sent to a local supplier to gather intel on pricing possibilities and specs. Ammunition for the printer may soon be bottlenecked in the economic sector, due to the price hike of printer primers. The Beartarian Times R&D department has discussed the possibility of creating printer ammunition in-house, although this opens the doors for many new challenges for us.”

The spokesperson is not revealing any more information at this time. A top consultant for The Beartaria Times has reportedly said, “Warranties are really not a bad idea, its better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.”

So, is this even a big deal? Is this something to watch going into Q2? Only time will tell how this will play out in the imminent future.
It hasn’t yet been disclosed that if a new purchase was in play which enterprise would land the contract. Multiple corporations are in tight competition. As of this time, not a single representative has reached out to The Beartaria Times. I am sure The Beartaria Times would be open to exclusive offers at this time if sales departments were on the cutting-edge of media culture, for they would assuredly be aware of this breaking news.

It would also be highly recommended for printer enterprises to make a generous contribution to The Beartaria Times, that would make them look really cool with ‘The Bears.’ This could also give The Beartaria Times the opportunity to do a one-off box opening video that could gain unprecedented levels of exposure and cultural presence to a trendy printer manufacturer. For those who are reading, it could be yours.

I will do my best to report on updates as this story develops.

Yours on the Trail,

Van Allen Bear

For Printer companies, please use info@beartariatimes.com

Word From The North

Beetle in the Oakwood

Van Allen Bear

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Little Bear Woodshop and I had reached an agreement, of sorts, where I send him proper currency accompanied with materials and he would use his facility to craft a pair of knives. What materials, you ask? I asked myself the same thing… If there was a knife you were going to carry with you all the time, what materials would you use? Naturally I am inclined to choose wood blanks, so I decided to take a saw to a few types of wood that were available nearby, which ended up being: mesquite, Spanish oak, cedar, and a local contact provided me with a few planks of Texan Pecan.

A fine blank, no less

So, this was going to be quite easy, I merely send the wood to the craftsman and bark some orders. Once the materials are in his hands, then he’s charged with making my cutlery. However, once showing pictures of my loot to the woodworker, I was informed that the bark had to be removed prior to both shipping and crafting. Naturally, I realized that I only had a few hours to de-bark the wood with a rotary table saw on hand. I set to it with my glasses on and table saw whirring in the garage.

The wood had been dry for quite a while, and I ran it sideways to grind off all the bark, strip by strip by strip. Curious, were these markings on the exposed hardwood beneath… what were they? Ovular and they seemed to be made of softer wood, they didn’t look to me as being natural. I began cutting the wood across the diameter of the trunk when out popped a beetle the size of my thumbnail. I was fooled, thinking this wood was in tip-top shape!

“Good Heavens, what on earth is this beetle doing in my oakwood?! What corruption is this?”

surprised man, sawing wood, circa 2020

Confused and surprised, I made more and more cuts for coasters. Lo’ and behold, there was another beetle that felt the sting of my rotary saw, and unfortunately had to take a very very long nap in the trashcan. The rest of the wood was untouched, for there were different cuts from different trees. Only some interesting ant-made markings marred the surfaces or the interiors of the other hardwoods.

As they were shipped out to and received by the man whom fabricates knives and things made from wood for a living, they were met with acclaim. The mesquite shall be turned into ladles, Spanish oak into spatulas, cedar into spoons, and a few planks of Texan Pecan shaped into Idaho State cutting boards. There are things to learn from this endeavor: never judge a cut of wood by it’s bark. It’s not that you shouldn’t trust things unseen, but be prepared to slice up a couple beetles or so through your endeavors for there very well could be all sorts of insects lurking just beneath the surface.

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Just Crushing

The Future of Business

Jacob Telling shares his thoughts and experience on business opportunity.

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Despite popular opinion, right now is the best time for business. Or at least it can be. Amongst all this financial movement, there is enormous opportunity. Huge realm wide changes in the shape of the economic landscape are taking place. Mountains are being moved. Although it’s true that many (debt-leveraged) businesses are shutting their doors, it’s also true that many (antifragile) businesses have had their best year ever. This is especially true for brand new businesses that offer an honorable service. I fall in the third category. When the fearful consented to close their businesses, I did the opposite, opening one up. I started a small business building planter boxes out of the garage. It’s been awesome. Empowering my community with their own means of food production is a great way to make some cash. This year I’m expanding: more than just providing planter boxes for pick up, I’m also offering in-ground gardens, delivery, and soil installation services. Prompted by @Libertysteadbear’s brilliant comment about encouraging church gardens on the @Hanginwithbears livestream, I’ve put together the gardening version of a white glove turn key style garden program marketed at churches. At the push of a button, I do it all: planter boxes (or in ground beds), trellises, irrigation, seed purchases, planting calendar, garden plan, full installation, all of it. I want to provide churches the easiest possible opportunity to get in on the gardening game. I want to see churches become community leaders again, where they start using their space and their infrastructure to feed people high quality food and bring the community together. I have no idea how receptive my area will be to all this, but I’m happy to try because it’s an ethical endeavor. And that’s what really makes this the best time for business: the moral side of commerce is making a resurgence.

This is a sample from the flyer that I’m sending to churches:

Even if you put aside the health benefits, the financial return, and the unmatched quality, growing your own food still brings an aspect of biblical wonder. Churches are meant to be community leaders. And what better way to lead a community than to take tangible steps towards biblical living? With my faith, I believe that what the bible says is true: We are meant to toil in the field, and see our own food grow. We are meant to share in the great bounty and abundance that springs forth from rich soil and caring hands. We are meant to have a close connection with the glory of seeing creation do its work. It is the way of the honest Christian (and I’m sure many other religions as well) to build what is good, true, and beautiful. As a Christian, I hope to help others pursue this goal. As the owner of Backyard Eden, I’ve put together a garden program specifically with churches in mind. My offer is to install an effective, beautiful, bountiful garden for your church along with a customizable seed kit and planting schedule to take out all of the guesswork. It’d be an honor to help you lead the community by building your very own Backyard Eden.

I guess that’s what happens when a philosophising author takes a crack at designing a poster – it turns into something that more closely resembles a motivational speech… But I can’t help it! It’s in my passionate nature to get to the heart of the issue. I’ve noticed that this can get lost in translation. For example, sometimes when I say that this has been a great year, my enthusiasm gets internalized as a kind of forced idealism. People hear my passion as an optimistic half-truth… but this isn’t the case. I’m speaking right down to the core. I fully believe it when I say it; what’s been happening lately is a blessing. We’re learning from stressors, and waking up to the authentic, transparent version of reality. What follows is a more honorable existence. For our diligence in pursuing the truth, what a breath of fresh air this whole process has been. Now, the authenticity is exhaling out into all sorts of realms. On the financial side, since marketplaces are driven by demand, the moral fabric of the vendor is woven by the thread of the vendee: with enough authenticity, moral buyers make for moral sellers. The two are inherently connected. Since a core part of the Beartarian ethic is to aim for moral truth, and since the world is waking up to the reality that moral living is important, right now we have the best opportunity to enjoy the process of building an honorable business. And what other kind of business would you want to be apart of anyhow? Given everything that’s gone on, we have a wonderful opportunity to weave communities, infrastructure, and supply chains together with integrity. So forget the popular opinion of the mainstream. Forget financial naysayers. And especially forget about all the spiraling despair people have expressed about economics… because right now really is the best time for business.

Much love everybody,
Jacob Telling

Website: JacobTelling.com

Beartaria Times handle: @Runnerbear

How Dare You is available on my website, online, or at your local bookstore if you phone in and order.

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Children Stories

The Heedless Woodchopper

For the Children’s Hour

Van Allen Bear

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By Van Allen Bear

The wood beyond the eastern peaks shimmers yellow in the autumn months. Lakes stretch long from the top of the valley to the south, and there are tall pines that sway in the warm breeze as their needles slowly drip one by one onto the soft forest floor beneath. The lakes have a healthy stock of trout with rainbow shimmering scales as they breech and munch on the lazy flies skittering on the surface. The skies are watched by eagles, always vigilant and steady as they soar from the valleys to their perches. Faint songs are sung from high boughs of the pines when the wind blows through. The wood harbors countless deer, elk, wolves, rabbits, squirrels, owls, and mice.

There is an interesting story about something that had happened to these woods, and had something to do with a woodchopper, however he wasn’t always called that.

You see, the wood harbors a family, and the head of that family is a man whom one could consider a woodchopper. Though he tries, he doesn’t quite pay enough attention to truly be called a woodsman, nor a chopper. He does fell trees but the man works along at a less-than-reasonable pace. The woods are rife with trees ready for chopping, but his pace surely is slow.

In the height of the spring, the woodchopper goes out from his home quite some distance to find the standing deadwood trees and clear out thickets of the wild brush. One year, on a particularly warm spring, the woodchopper headed out far from the house to a thicket that had suffered a landslide two seasons ago. The land had slid from a ways up the mountain and came to a halt in a rather flat area, off the beaten path. The trees were dead and ready for harvest, but they lay strewn about in new terrain, all bent and bundled together. This was going to be quick work, and the woodchopper made his way down to the fresh ground with only an axe and a bent claw tool. The woodchopper went to work, putting his hat on a protruding low branch, and dug his claw tool in a stump nearby his first tree.

“This is going to be an easy batch,” he thought, “all that I need to do is make a few cuts on these that are already dead and this should be the easiest bundle I’ll ever make.”

Careless, he wants the most firewood with the least amount of effort, so he finds a bigger tree than he has ever chopped before laying there in the pile of warped trunks and branches. Heedless, he goes atop the pile and began hammering away at the trunk. The woodchopper gets part of the way through and his axe loses the edge as it goes dull on the massive trunk of the dead tree. Realizing that he has forgotten his sharpening stones, he has to continue making due with an ever-dulling blade. “bang, bang, bang, bang, skrrraak!” he reeled back and the head of his axe was tumbling around inside the big pile of bundled lumber.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! I brought my worst axe and didn’t even notice!” he shouted to the sky.

Under further inspection of the handle, the woodchopper said, “no wonder it just broke, this is the most brittle axe I’ve got in the shed, I could have sworn that I brought the right one this morning, I must’ve not paid attention…” he said to himself, “what am I suppose to do now? Ah, guess I’ll go home and come back tomorrow…”

On his way off the pile of logs, he looked around to find his claw tool to see if he could drag a smaller log up the hill and have himself at least something to go home with. Around and around he looked and couldn’t find the claw tool, nowhere was it to be found. He reached for his hat on the bough and realized the ribbon had ripped on the inside brim, as it was rubbing against the sharp bark of the pine tree bough that it was resting on. He let out a low grumble and growl, having lost both his axe and claw tool and damaged his hat that day.

As he was climbing up the bank of the new earth towards the beaten path, he slipped with his right foot and slid gently back to the base of the slope. Tired and demoralized, he sat down on a bare log at the bottom. “My,” he thought as he put his head in his hands, “I had traveled so far and gotten so tired, I wish I had brought along a flask of water and a bundle of bread… I think I’ll just rest here a moment and try again to make it up this hill.” He then took a stick and cleaned the mud from under his boots.

Faintly, the woodchopper heard an unseen elk crying in the fields down the slope, and he panned the landscape but couldn’t place where the sound was coming from. Not up, not down, not left not right, and then it stopped. Nearing another clearing, he looked up to the peaks that were jutting above the treeline, then suddenly all at once the woodchopper got caught up in all the sounds and sights of nature. He saw the eastern peaks shimmering green in the springtime, the lakes stretching long from the top of the valley to the south, tall pines swaying in the warm breeze as their needles slowly drip one after another onto the soft forest floor beneath. The woodchopper could get a fair glimpse of the lakes he knew were full of rainbow trout and lazy flies skittering on the surface. He looked out towards the black wings gliding along in the skies as the eagles soared from the valleys to their perches. Faint songs were sung from high boughs of the pines when the wind blew through, and he knew, this world around him was that of no other.

Using the handle of his broken axe as a cane, the woodchopper made his way back up the bank towards the beaten path, and back to his home where he was greeted with a hot bowl of soup and his children reading a fairy-tale in the corner by the fireplace.

“My dear,” he started to his wife, “I’ve broken my axe, this brittle thing. I’ve ripped the inside of my hat, and I’ve gone ahead and lost the claw tool I brought with me. What I hadn’t brought with me was a lunch nor a flask of water… I tell you I’ve been heedlessly rummaging around about these woods too long. Thankyou for dinner, and in the morning I’ll be off with firewood in my return.”

The next morning he remembered his faults of the previous day. With a satchel full of mealtime pastries, broadaxe sharpened with a spare stone, flask slung on his back with water, and son by his side the woodchopper made his way into the warped bundle of trees down the bank.

“Son, take heed of the things you will see. I was here yesterday and made quite a fool of myself. Today you and I will harvest and clear a few piles of wood, and we will do it right, for we are within a living wood, full of elk and deer and eagles and fish and wolves and rabbits and trees and people like us. The woods have what we need, and in return we need to take care of and find a balance between what we take and what we give back.”

He said as he pointed his axe from the top of the slide zone to the base, “We will clear this slide area by the close of the summer, and in the next year it will be another thicket for the rabbits and the wolves and the bugs and the deer while we are warm and cozy all winter long.”

The woodchopper gained his title that day, as he and his son took a good helping of wood away from the warped pile and neatly stacked it under the awning of their humble home. They did this all summer, and as the eastern peaks shimmered yellow in the autumn months the slide zone was left clear for another springtime field for all the rabbits to play and the deer to bounce and the eagles to guard. That unseen elk which cried out to the woodchopper now lays to rest by bushels of berries on a carpet of grasses.

The same for all as time went on.

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