- The Peace
Corps is a United States Federal government agency and details
about the Corps may
be read here.
The problem with signing on with the Peace Corps
is that there are a number of requirements you must meet in order
to volunteer with them and, of course, they are the Federal government
and they will keep trace of you if they ship you outside of the
United States.
- If you have enough money to pay for your own
food and other needs and are willing to live in poverty, you can volunteer
to work with elderly Navajos.
This type of work requires that you have your
head straight and that you have your shit together. This type of
work is not a vacation; it's hard and serious work of long hours
and effort. It has the added benefit and attraction that volunteering
to assist is a good way to drop out of the rat race, disappear from
the eyes of the U. S. government, and you're kept very busy and
occupied.
Volunteering to assist elderly Navajos requires
that you become familiar with the social behavioral aspects of Navajo
tribes and a good place to find such information may
be found here.
Volunteers are asked to commit to at minimum
two months, and there is a formal interview process of hopeful volunteers
that one is subjected to to ensure that volunteers have their heads
together, can actually do the work that's needed, and are trustworthy.
Contact these
people through their web site to find out more about working
with assisting in herding sheep, other farming and ranching needs,
and working with the elderly. But remember: only strong-minded,
responsible people are considered for such work. It's a 24 hour
job that few are capable of committing to, and few are able to complet
their committments.
- Farm work or ranch work is a possibility if you
can find such work where live-ins are allowed. This type of work is
usually very low pay -- far below minimum wage -- and you would be
working with illegal immigrants, many of which may not speak English.
The industrial farms and ranches aren't what
you would be looking for since they have forms, documents, and other
tracking of your employment and are answerable to government agencies.
Additionally the large industrial farms and ranches will usually
not allow workers to live on their property.
There are, however, an increasingly rare number
of family farms and ranches situated around the United States, places
where families have been working the land or running ranches for
generations and where people's children have moved away and the
older parents are looking for live-in help.
But these positions are rare and seldom are
they advertised. They are discovered through word-of-mouth from
other ranchers and farmers in the area, or by postings on bulletin
boards in farming or ranching communities in their civic centers
or markets.
This type of work has the benefit that you can
drop out of the eyes of the government and still maintain a healthy,
productive, and busy life while being paid low wages but also being
given a place to live. It has the draw back of not offering medical
coverage or insurance of any kind such that if you're hurt or injured,
medical bills will have to be paid from your chronically empty pocket.
Because family farm or ranch work means working
closely with the owners or operators of the land, you can expect
to be subjected to a very detailed and close examination of your
physical and mental makeup, and trustworthyness is going to be the
number 1 priority among any such a job.
http://portland.indymedia.org/en/2005/08/322625.shtml
Justice James C. Nelson concurs.
I have signed our Opinion because we have correctly
applied existing legal theory and constitutional jurisprudence to
resolve this case on its facts.
I feel the pain of conflict, however. I fear that,
eventually, we are all going to become collateral damage in the war
on drugs, or terrorism, or whatever war is in vogue at the moment.
I retain an abiding concern that our Declaration of Rights not be
killed by friendly fire. And, in this day and age, the courts are
the last, if not only, bulwark to prevent that from happening.
In truth, though, we are a throw-away society.
My garbage can contains the remains of what I eat and drink. It may
contain discarded credit card receipts along with yesterday's newspaper
and junk mail. It might hold some personal letters, bills, receipts,
vouchers, medical records, photographs and stuff that is imprinted
with the multitude of assigned numbers that allow me access to the
global economy and vice versa.
My garbage can contains my DNA.
As our Opinion states, what we voluntarily throw
away, what we discard--i.e., what we abandon--is fair game for roving
animals, scavengers, busybodies, crooks and for those seeking evidence
of criminal enterprise.
Yet, as I expect with most people, when I take
the day's trash (neatly packaged in opaque plastic bags) to the garbage
can each night, I give little consideration to what I am throwing
away and less thought, still, to what might become of my refuse. I
don't necessarily envision that someone or something is going to paw
through it looking for a morsel of food, a discarded treasure, a stealable
part of my identity or a piece of evidence. But, I've seen that happen
enough times to understand--though not graciously accept--that there
is nothing sacred in whatever privacy interest I think I have retained
in my trash once it leaves my control--the Fourth Amendment and Article
II, Sections 10 and 11, notwithstanding.
Like it or not, I live in a society that accepts
virtual strip searches at airports; surveillance cameras; "discount"
cards that record my buying habits; bar codes; "cookies" and spywear
on my computer; on-line access to satellite technology that can image
my back yard; and microchip radio frequency identification devices
already implanted in the family dog and soon to be integrated into
my groceries, my credit cards, my cash and my new underwear.
I know that the notes from the visit to my doctor's
office may be transcribed in some overseas country under an out-sourcing
contract by a person who couldn't care less about my privacy. I know
that there are all sorts of businesses that have records of what medications
I take and why. I know that information taken from my blood sample
may wind up in databases and be put to uses that the boilerplate on
the sheaf of papers I sign to get medical treatment doesn't even begin
to disclose. I know that my insurance companies and employer know
more about me than does my mother. I know that many aspects of my
life are available on the Internet. Even a black box in my car--or
event data recorder as they are called--is ready and willing to spill
the beans on my driving habits, if I have an event--and I really trusted
that car, too.
And, I also know that my most unwelcome and paternalistic
relative, Uncle Sam, is with me from womb to tomb. Fueled by the paranoia
of "ists" and "isms," Sam has the capability of spying on everything
and everybody--and no doubt is. But, as Sam says: "It's for my own
good."
In short, I know that my personal information
is recorded in databases, servers, hard drives and file cabinets all
over the world. I know that these portals to the most intimate details
of my life are restricted only by the degree of sophistication and
goodwill or malevolence of the person, institution, corporation or
government that wants access to my data.
I also know that much of my life can be reconstructed
from the contents of my garbage can.
I don't like living in Orwell's 1984; but I do.
And, absent the next extinction event or civil libertarians taking
charge of the government (the former being more likely than the latter),
the best we can do is try to keep Sam and the sub-Sams on a short
leash.
As our Opinion states, search and seizure jurisprudence
is centered around privacy expectations and reasonableness considerations.
That is true even under the extended protections afforded by Montana's
Constitution, Article II, Sections 10. and 11. We have ruled within
those parameters. And, as is often the case, we have had to draw a
fine line in a gray area. Justice Cotter and those who have signed
the Opinion worked hard at defining that line; and I am satisfied
we've drawn it correctly on the facts of this case and under the conventional
law of abandonment.
That said, if this Opinion is used to justify
a sweep of the trash cans of a neighborhood or community; or if a
trash dive for Sudafed boxes and matchbooks results in DNA or fingerprints
being added to a forensic database or results in personal or business
records, credit card receipts, personal correspondence or other property
being archived for some future use unrelated to the case at hand,
then, absent a search warrant, I may well reconsider my legal position
and approach to these sorts of cases--even if I have to think outside
the garbage can to get there.
I concur.
/S/ JAMES C. NELSON