In volume one of Henry Buckberry's stories (Get Poor Now, Avoid the Rush), we followed Henry from his early childhood in central North Dakota to the dark, dangerous woods of northern Wisconsin. Get Poor Now concluded in September of 1933, with Henry about to survey the devastation of a forest fire that almost burned up his log shack. A Windfall Homestead takes us into the next two decades of Henry's productive, energetic life, as he logs and hunts, clears land for farming, marries, has children, builds a new barn and house from windfall lumber. Henry's life exemplifies the fate of an essentially preindustrial rural culture about to be overwhelmed by post-World War II technology with its comprehensive commercial "culture" extruded by fossil fuel affluence. Henry's was not so much the "greatest" generation as it was the last unself-conscious rural subsistence generation of European heritage.These stories, all told in Henry's voice, were taken down shortly before Henry's death in 2009 by Henry's son Charles Darwin Buckberry, also known as C. D. or Seedy Buckberry. Seedy claims these stories are accurate and true.Readers are advised to suspend their civilized disbelief.

The common understanding of "apocalypse" suggests End Times, Armageddon, and the end of the world. But the Greek word apokalypsis means none of these things. What it does mean is uncovering, disclosing, and revelatory. That "apocalypse" is so widely misunderstood as predestined disaster isn't due to natural evolution in meaning. To penetrate the misuse of apokalypsis is to discover mythic misrepresentation. That is, "apocalypse" doesn't generate End Times but--just the opposite--End Times compels apokalypsis. The actual threat of End Times--explicitly so with weapons of mass destruction and Anthropocene climate change--forces thoughtful people into a search for fundamental causes: Where do these destructive energies originate? Why are we so reluctant to recognize the obvious consequences and resistant to embrace available remedies? Why do we persist in denial and indifference? In these essays, Paul Gilk explores the underlying cultural and religious conventions (both "conservative" and "liberal") that constitute our resistance and refusal. To disclose and uncover those conventions, to dissolve our oblivion, is to awaken to apokalypsis and to realize the depth of our captivity within prevailing mythology, both religious and civilizational. If End Times is the disease, apokalypsis is the cure.

This law school casebook analyzes the Constitution of the State of Florida. It begins with the idea of a state being a "laboratory of democracy" where rights may be expanded or invented within the minimum requirements of the federal constitution. It explores the question of how a state constitution can produce its own jurisprudence in light of the supremacy of the United States Constitution. It outlines the canons of construction for the Florida Constitution. It introduces the concept that a state constitution can be a source of heightened civil liberties and fundamental rights. It explores this issue in greater detail by using the Florida Constitution as an example. It identifies Florida Constitutional rights without an exact parallel to those in the text of the US Constitution and asks whether Florida has taken its own path in interpreting or implementing the identified constitutional rights. It introduces rights enumerated in the text of the Florida Constitution that are not embodied in the text of the US Constitution. In so doing, it compares Florida's approach to those of other state constitutions. It addresses the familiar refrain that unlike the federal constitution a state's constitution is a restriction upon power not a grant of power. It looks at state constitutional criminal procedure by examining the ancient origin of the jury and the recent origin of Florida criminal procedure. Finally, it examines the US Supreme Court's acceptance of a state's inherent police power, and state-by-state differences in zoning and nuisance law, so as to better understand how eminent domain and inverse condemnation may differ under state constitutions such as Florida's.