A Historical Perspective on The Benefit of War

I think it’s a great idea to attack Syria.  It’ll be quick.  And painless (for us anyway) and it will undoubtedly accomplish our goals, although truth be told, I’m not entirely sure what those goals might be.  But that’s why we have leaders, to do the things we don’t have the time or patience to do ourselves.  If they say it’s in our ‘best interests’ to launch a million dollar tomahawk missile into a foreign country then it has to be the right thing to do because our government exists for one reason and one reason only and that’s to protect us.

Besides, anytime a war is started things usually go exactly according to design and events quickly develop along a well planned, coordinated timeline where loss is limited and missions are accomplished.  Well, except for the American Civil War I suppose.  They thought that was going to be a short affair and if you wanted to catch it you needed to pack a picnic basket and head out to Manassas to view the show because once our Union Army taught those southern bastards a lesson they’d realize how futile their efforts were.  Too bad nobody bothered to tell them about the script because once that first battle failed it took, what was it, four years for those guys to finally do what we wanted them to do?  And what, 600,000 dead guys?  (You can call them ‘dead guys’ because it happened over 150 years ago and they and their loved ones won’t be offended).

But that’s one war that didn’t go the way it was supposed to…oh, well okay, there was that thing they call World War One too.  But I always liked the first name to it, The Great War, now that sounds better.  They could have even called it The Awesome War because in all reality that’s what it was.  Things blowing up, flying around and going crazy.  Mud, machine guns, guys running into barbed wire…poison gas.  That war was supposed to a quick one and they told the kids “You’d better sign up now and get in while you can because it’ll be over before the leaves fall off the trees!” 

Four years later they were still going at it and that war didn’t even really end until a generation after when we got to do it all over again by fighting the really big war they call World War Two.  I think Russia won that one because they had like 20,000,000 of their people killed by the end of it. 

Oh, and I guess you could say Vietnam was a war that didn’t go exactly like they thought it was going to go but even so it was still conducted in a brilliant manner with incredible public support, beautiful cohesion between political and military leaders, well thought out in every way and in the end it turned out to be a pretty awesome benefit to America.  And in that one we only lost 58,937 of our own people.  It was worth it though because those guys on the other side shot at one of our boats in 1965 (did they?) and we can’t stand for that sort of stuff.

Look, so we made a couple misjudgments along the way.  Is that all that bad?  Not when we learned from our lessons.  Take a look at Gulf War One in 1991.  Back then we really wanted to kick Saddam Husain’s ass and get him out of power so we sent 530,000 or so of our guys (and girls!  They got invited to this one too) over there and it played out like magic.  We were able to do everything we wanted to.  Except remove Saddam from power.  Oh I know, that wasn’t one of our ‘goals’ but c’mon, wouldn’t it have been nice if we could’ve wiped out those Republican Guard units so they wouldn’t have been able to kill all those Kurds when they started rebelling after we stopped shooting?  If anything the only reason we weren’t able to remove Saddam was because we fought that war too perfectly and had to stop because the rest of the world thought we being too cruel by the end of it.  Imagine that?  Thinking we were being too cruel…in a war!

Anyway, we finally finished him off with the 2003 Iraq War.  And that one was probably our best idea ever.  To begin, we got to actually start it which was something kind of new for us but we’re catching on.  And with that one we had such a simple, easy to understand plan that there was no way we could fail.  Sure, maybe it would have been a good idea to ask a couple questions like; “What would happen if we all of a sudden decided to force the entire Iraqi Army to go on unemployment?” And; “Is that true that Sunnis and Shiites don’t really like each other?”  But c’mon man!  We had that thing wrapped up in like a month.  Mission Accomplished!

Okay, okay.  I see what you’re saying.  How could we have possibly known those kind of things before we ran a bunch tanks down the streets of Bagdad?  I suppose maybe we can’t figure everything out beforehand but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t act anyway.  I mean look, just because we couldn’t find a clear definition of what Victory in Afghanistan is back in 2001 it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have gone over there.  So what if it’s going to be twelve years next month, sometimes these things take a while. 

So when I hear all this nonsense about people asking questions about should we or shouldn’t we attack Syria I’m like; how do know if we should or shouldn’t until we actually do? 



BoomTown!


Bakken Oil Boom: Williston, North Dakota…Modern Day


Hey Peeps,     
                       
            Wow.  Where to begin?  How ‘bout I lost my job?  (Where did I put that?  I know I left it around here somewhere…) Yeah, may as well.  So, I lost my gig.  Kinda saw it coming and to be honest, it wasn’t what I needed to be doing anyway.  Calling software engineer types and telling them about the job of their dreams and then having to hear about all the reasons why they didn’t want to make the move wasn’t going to shoot me out of bed in the morning or keep me glued to the insta-phone messaging at night so when I heard the news I took the blow, wondered what’s next and then gave a sigh, a deep “Thank God!” and looked up the road.

            You know me.  I’m not the suit and tie every day kinda guy and probably my greatest flaw is I’m always wondering what’s behind door number two.  It’s why I can’t watch TV with anybody if the remote’s in my hand.  Like my buddy Blankenship used to say; “I don’t care what’s on, I just want to know what else is on.”  

            But you hit a point in life where those things catch up to you and so here I am.  41 years in, un-employed, out of funds and looking at the sad end of reality with options running out.

            Might make somebody think Life’s looking dismal and it’s all ‘Straight To Hell’ like The Clash used to sing. 

            And then you remember I’m an Amer-I-CAN…I’m the cat who trucked a bike across North America just to prove a point.  That even if there’s two strikes, two outs, bottom of the ninth at least you still got one more pitch to hit and hey, who knows, you might knock that one off the reservation. 

            Yeah, that feels a little more like it.  Let’s rip it up, let’s kick this bitch into hyper-drive and let’s just go out and effin’ do something. 

            The unemployment line wasn’t an option.  I got physically ill at the thought of having to plead my case in front of some hefty HR type whose only job was to provide a roadblock for corporate progress and I was getting doughy from the desk jockey lifestyle anyway.  I wanted to put some action back into my game and I wanted to go to a place of mystical mystery where the jobs were falling off the trees, the pace was hyped and the America of old where ‘Show up, be ready to work and let your attitude and ethic stake your claim’ counted more than what your LinkedIn profile said you could do.

            You used to be able to find that solution at nearly every zip code in the lower 48 but this last decade of division, global war, plummeting debt and national misdirection is beginning to pulse it’s virus into the nook and groove of every neighborhood of Your Town, USA.  A recession is when your neighbor loses his job and a depression is when you lose yours?

            Well, I hit mine I guess but I’m too stupid to know when I’m beat and my heart still pumps the vitals of better days ahead. 

            Know what?   There is a pot o’ gold at the other end of the rainbow and damn, man!  It is for realz!

            So here’s the deal.  Learn it.  Oil Boom!  Bakken Oil Patch.  North Dakota.  America.  United States of.

            I kept hearing about it.  Jobs!  Jobs!  Jobs!  Arby’s paying 18 bucks an hour with a signing bonus  to deep fry chicken and fries…Wal-Mart doesn’t have shelves ‘cause they can’t keep anything in stock so they just drop the stuff on pallets and let the hawks sweep in…Show up, roll out the car, pick up a hammer and get after it!  Work!  No time to talk, I got shit to do! 

            Yeah well, it ain’t all like that.  They got shelves at the Wal-Mart but there’s so many people popping through there it must be the only one in the world where every single check out line is running and there are still lines eight people deep.  Arby’s doesn’t pay 18 an hour but Taco John’s will get you $15 per for steppin’ in. 

            But who’s got time for that kinda action when there’s all this other stuff to do? 

            I haven’t seen construction like this since I lived in Austin, Texas when 5,000 people a day were moving in to hit the high tech boom of 1997.  Entire neighborhoods are going in with lots already sold on the next, yet-to-be-built development over.  Single bedroom studio will get you $2K deep but don’t worry, there’s none available anyway.  Streets are stuffed with cars of people from all fifty states coming in and creating their own job. 

            The coolest thing I’ve noticed since I got here three days ago is I haven’t heard anyone talking about politics or looking east to DC for an answer.  Everyone’s too busy.  Everyone you meet is the same way; “Yeah, got here yesterday, think I got a job lined with this guy doing this…”  or “Stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast, guy in a truck had his window down, I asked if his guys were hiring.  He goes; ‘Follow ME!’”  Heard a guy at the table next to mine in the library (where I’m writing this) and he’s telling his new buddy; “Worked all weekend…29 hours- made $800.  He wants me to stay on but I found this other thing doing this.” 

            It’s a spirit I haven’t seen in years.  Together.  We’re all in it, man.  I finally got to the community center to jump one of those $3 showers after a couple more days living out my car and even there it’s the same.  “Came over from Michigan ‘cause I can make $28 bucks an hour here doing what they’d pay me $7.45 for there.” 

            Dudes just whistlin’ and saying “Yeah, me too…comin’ from St. Louis.”  That was the big black dude.  Talked loud and at first everyone’s like “Uhh wait, so this is a community shower?  So like we’re all gonna shower like HS football practice?”  I mean, I’ve never been to jail but exactly what is the etiquette when you drop the soap? 

            So everyone’s a little cloaked at first, you know?  Like, none of us would be here if things were goin’ great back home but damn!  We’re all trying to make it better, you feel me?  So when I stumbled around going down the wrong hallway trying to find to shower room, the big dude kinda laughed.  Said “It’s over there” and pointed with a long finger. 

            Everyone’s helpin’ each other out, you dig? 

            Every time you end a conversation out here it’s “Good Luck!”  Yeah, call me if you need something.  You found anything?  Yeah, these guys are looking over here.  Hiring right now. 

            It is wild.  Wild West.  And it’s all about the oil.  American Ingenuity at it again. You know they now put a motor at the end of a string of pipe, turn that bitch sideways and snake it seven miles before frackin’ the rock and extracting enough crude to shoot North Dakota to #2 nationally as far as oil production goes?  That’s more than Cali.  More the Louisiana…more than Alaska…Three years ago The United States of America imported 64% of its oil.  Today?  That’s down to 42%.

            You can thank North Dakota.

            I’ll hit the oil later…that’s a story all in its own. 

            But trust me on this.  Don’t let anyone tell you America has kicked it. You feelin’ down?  Feelin’ out of the mix and off your game?  You should see this place then.  It is for real.  You get a cup of coffee at the Quick-Shop and they aren’t even able to keep the stirring sticks in supply.  There’s a little cup with a few plastic spoons in it.  Use one.  Stir your Joe, replace…and Get Out Of The Way!  ‘Cause there’s another dude behind ya and he’s got places to go!

            So here it is.  North Dakota is where America is already restarted.  It is hummin’ and it is movin’ and it is something from the story books.  New!  Big!  Fast!

            I went to see the Amtrak roll through yesterday since it was slow due to Labor Day (just meant the offices weren’t open...the drill rigs do not stop…) and because I’ve always liked trains.  I’ve been on Amtrak and I’ve never seen more than a couple people getting on or off at any given stop from Kansas City to Boston.  This thing came in and there must have been fifty people falling off of it and that many getting on.  Oil guys coming back from their 14 days off, oil guys getting on from their 14 days on…people looking for the future showing up with a hand bag and a dream of employment…Everyone jostlin’ and moving with that confused look of the new guy who knows he’s in the right spot but doesn’t know much else.  Who should I talk to?  Where do I stay?  What is this place?

            See, it’s out here.  Way out Western North Dakota and the only way in is by car, plane or train.  The planes route you through Denver or Minneapolis on double engine props because the runway ain’t long enough for anything else.  By car you gotta battle with crude-humpin’ semis and an armada of diesel, double crew-cab pickups.  The train comes in and it’s really like the Old West.  That light off in the distance shines, the whistle blows and it’s like the outside world comes in for a three minute stop on before shooting its way  on to Seattle…

            But I guess that’s enough for now.  Me?  Yeah, I’m getting hooked up.  Trying to get in at one of these Man Camps (what’s that?) and should be good once my urine checks out and the FBI gives me the thumbs up (“He’s Okay!  Hire Him!”)…and even there at the piss test center it’s the same.  Five dudes, sitting around waiting to pee in a cup and at first the silence is awkward and you know me, I have trouble being quiet.  Next thing I know this dude’s showing me his i-Phone and a picture of an oil rig blowing out at midnight.  Guy died during that one. 

            “Yeah, that dude out there (nodding past the doors at his buddy smokin’ a cig) was right up there when it happened.”  He said pointing to the monkey bench near the top of the derrick some 160 feet in the air as a huge black cloud of oily mist shot through the night sky at 2200 pounds per inch of pressure.

            Wild, Wild West…

            Stay tuned.  I’ll write more.

Live Free Or Die,

Jed
                        

Held Hostage By The Lunatic Fringe


Once again America is held in the limbo of stagnation by the lunatic fringe who feel obligated to find the most isolated and polarizing issues to focus the national debate while serenely ignoring the more pressing threats to our existence.

It is a sad and tragic reality in today’s America that rational thought and productive debate are outlawed by a sub-culture of radicals who dictate the direction of national discussion by forcing the vast majority, who have no real stake in the topic, to bow to the alter of the latest media cycle.

Last month it was whether or not we should eat chicken sandwiches sold by someone opposed to homosexual marriage.  Before that it was “how dare you restrict my ability to purchase an assault rifle!” And now it’s all about abortion, or to be more precise, abortion for those victimized by rape.

Rome burns, the Titanic sinks and we spend our time worrying about the color of the fire engine and the deck chair ensemble. 

And we wonder how we ever managed to allow ourselves to fall into a world where we drop hundreds of billions of dollars a year on a foreign war we forget we’re in, accept 8% unemployment as normal, have 50% of the population on some sort of government assistance, annually spend $1.9 Trillion more than we take in and adopt a health care policy which does nothing to address either health nor cost all while the cliff of reality speeds ever closer.

We have some very serious realities facing our future and yet we cannot even begin to open the discussion because the radical wing-nuts of the far left and right won’t allow it.  Changes to Medicare?  Social Security?  Just try to mention it and doors slam, ears are plugged and the childish refrain of ‘La-la-la-la…I can’t hear you!’ shrieks back. 

Today, and for what will probably amount to the next 36 to 72 hours we’ll bicker back and forth about the most devastating threat to national security since the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor.  What’s that?  A Stuxnet virus launched against our power grid? 

No, it’s abortion.  The holy of holies of when it comes to grid-locking progress. 

Look, I don’t pretend to get it.  I’m not a woman, it’s not my body and I don’t understand the whole “It’s a choice thing” argument.  Does life begin at conception?  I don’t know and to be honest I don’t really care.  To me the abortion rant is hijacked by those on the far sides of the debate who want nothing more than to hear their own voices clog the forum. 

For me, the abortion issue has never been about an unplanned pregnancy, a women’s right to choose or where life begins.  To me it’s all about an unwanted child and what should we do about that?  I have never heard a Pro-Life solution for what should be done once the ‘miracle’ is born.  What happens then?  What do you do with a child born into a world where the mother doesn’t want it?  And before we quick-puke the response of adoption please illustrate how that process is governed, funded and overseen. 

But we can’t have that debate can we?  Pro-Lifers might believe life begins at conception but it doesn’t have much of a plan once the birth occurs. 

Pro-Life is Pro-Life and if you don’t think like me then I had better scream louder.  Oh, and like much of what we “intelligently discuss” in the public forum these days it’s all 100%, no debate, everything-all-the-time, no exceptions so carry on and keep on moving because we know what’s best for you. 

Now before you unfurl your Pro Choice colors and rally in a unified chant could it be remotely possible to entertain the concept that abortion should maybe not be used as the primary source of birth control?  I mean, an ‘unplanned pregnancy’ should not have to be the definitive moment of someone’s life but is it possible to perhaps put a little more thought into what we’re doing once the lights are dimmed and the consequences of those actions? 

Oh, sorry.  I forgot.  We can’t have the rational debate because we lost our collective rationality back in the Johnson Administration…you gotta respect my rights even if they infringe on yours…

What if the woman is raped though?  And a pregnancy results?  Surely then there can be an exception from the divine rule, right? 

Hell no! 

So this is where we are today.  Arguing about whether abortion should be allowed for those who are victimized by the most brutal crime known to the human race.  Again, we’re not going to talk about what we’ll do with an unwanted child because we can never get that far into the debate and to compromise or rationalize on a case by case basis is simply ludicrous because we live in a world where there’s only one way and that’s the right way and it works every single time…

Here’s a side note about how we roll in America these days.  There was an argument a few years back about smoking on public beaches in Massachusetts and one person was adamantly opposed to the idea.  No cigarettes at any time on any beach for anyone he railed.  Okay, I see your point.  But then it was asked of him ‘Do you even go to the beach?’  No, he didn’t like sand…so even though there’s a topic about which you have absolutely zero personal involvement in you’re still going to levy an opinion about how others should be forced to behave?

See where I’m going?

Let’s talk about rape for a second.  It’s bad.  And yet it does happen.  Wish it wouldn’t but it does.  It happens about 90,000 times a year in the United States according to the most radical statistics.  Pregnancies resulting from rape are calculated at the extreme far edge to be at 5%.  This means in the most wildest of scenarios there are about 4,500 pregnancies resulting from rape in the US each year. 

Now I don’t mean to diminish the pain buried within these statistics.  Each case carries with it a life altering set of circumstances.  But I am trying to illustrate how we, as a nation, are killing ourselves by focusing our resources and energies on issues which affect very tiny segments of the overall population.

There are 314,159,000 citizens in the United States today.  Should we spend our energies looking at the population as a whole or at the smaller percentage?  I’m not saying we ignore them just like I’m not saying we ignore the unemployed, the uninsured, the elderly, the veterans, the immigrants, the unhealthy, the incarcerated, the uneducated or even the unlucky but since the forecast for all of us is fairly bleak at the present time could it be possible to direct our attentions towards the greater solution in an effort to plug the dike so we don’t all drown in the end?

The ship is sinking, America.  Our entitlement programs, debt and collective refusal to open a conversation about compromised solutions threatens us all.  It’s time we band together and unite to seek solutions.  We cannot afford to allow the lunatic fringe of the far left and right to steer the ship any longer.


Six Summers Ago and A Half Staff Flag

I took the Michigan 57 highway across the state; it was a pretty straight shot almost all the way to Muskegon. Not much in the way of natural splendor or attractions but then I wasn’t in the sightseeing mood either. I was about fifteen miles north of Flint when I looked to my left and saw the flag at the State Police barracks was lowered to half staff. I wasn’t sure why so I pulled in and leaned the Liberty against a rail and went to find out.

“Hello, may I help you?” The woman at the counter asked.

“Yeah, hi. Hey I saw the flag is at half staff, can you tell me why?” I hadn’t read anything in the papers and I was curious to see if I had missed something.

“We lost a soldier in Iraq last week. A local boy.” She told me with a solemn face.

She went on to tell me he was from a small town called Swartz Creek. They didn’t know much of the details, only that this statistic was far more than another number. It brought home the irony of my day. I was experiencing the utmost freedom by riding my bike. I could go wherever my wheels and spirit took me and was under no obligation to seek permission from anyone. It was a gift I often overlooked and the flag I stared at and saluted as I left the barracks was a true reminder of the fragility of those very freedoms. A reminder that the country was still at war.

I was lost in these thoughts when I noticed my tire had gone flat between my arriving at the barracks and my departure from them. It wasn’t evident if the event was connected in some way but I couldn’t feel distressed about my station at that point. I changed the tire with a fluid ease that may have been some kind of subconscious acknowledgement of my respect for the young American who had given his life in the name of freedom.

It was sad though and while his death was one that followed many and would certainly precede many more I felt despite my never knowing the man’s name I still shared something with him.

He gave his life but I doubt he gave it willingly or with too much reflection on the enormity of his sacrifice. Surely he was aware of the foundation for the fight he was in but I strongly doubt he would have thought his life was an even trade for much of the apathy and selfishness that had plagued our nation in the last years. I do not think he would have graciously laid his body in the path of fragmented steel and hurled bullets for the jealous jockeying of car horns honking at rush hour or the corporate greed and political dishonesty we had grown so accustomed to it no longer succeeded in raising our eyebrows.

As I rode I wondered then, if he had been asked, what did he give his life for? What put him in that place of danger rather than him staying in the sandbagged safety of the company bunker? It was pure speculation but I thought maybe he did it for the things he felt strongly about and that probably meant the people he was with when he died. He may not have felt a strong unity with the country as a whole but I would venture he did feel a solidarity with those who shared the sand and sun with him on a daily basis and it was for those Americans for whom he died. The flag means different things to different people. I see it and I’m reminded of our national history and future potential. But I also see it and it stirs memories of sunny 4th of Julys with friends and fireworks. Beaches, mountains, baseball and the rest of the stereotypes. But most importantly the flag symbolizes good things to me, the red, the white and the blue conjure memories of friends and family and how when the chips are down those resources can be relied on for support and inspiration.

He was one more soldier in the long line of names and the flags were only lowered around his home town. A private grieving that the country saw as one more statistic and one the town could absorb and move from a few weeks after the burial procession. But the family and the friends of this one more American Hero would not be healed so quickly. Each name carries the weight of the world with it. My lacrosse coach from Kansas State was killed on the last day of the first Gulf War and that moment never left my heart. I knew the family of this most recent casualty would never see war in the same light again and that each holiday the empty seat at the table would only seem more obvious.

There is no such thing as ‘light casualties’ to those who have to bury them.

I lost myself in the miles and the thinking as I rode away from there. The flags eventually returned to full staff and the conversations with the people I met didn’t speak of the war but it weighed on me. Later that night after I’d bowed out to a thunderstorm and took a room at a motel I was reminded of the differences between where I was and where the war was. It wasn’t on the news, it didn’t fill the paper and had I not seen the half staff flag I wouldn’t have noticed it either.

I watched the Red Sox and Mets play baseball that night on ESPN.
   

Killington Cup Continues With Strong Showing At Relay

Race For The Cup Heats Up As Team Flowrider Nabs Podium At Killington Relay- Rocket Ladies Finish Dismally As Chance For Title Slips Away

Killington Mountain, VT.- A perfect bluebird day provided an elegant backdrop as the rope dropped for the third leg of The Killington Cup and sent fourteen teams of four careening down the course for a chance at local glory last Saturday. Team Flowrider took the honors in a heated dash for the line while several other competitors were knocked out of the race due to poor planning and lethargic efforts.

“Well, we knew it was gonna be a rough ride but we all felt pretty good about our set ups and strategy.” Team Flowrider spokesman, Mark “Mark D” DiFillipo said at the post-race presser. “When Mustang took the baton at Bear with a three chair lead we started getting confident about our chances.”

The race began at K1 Peak with fourteen teams present at the opening bell. Grabbing the junior ski pole batons teams were faced with a daunting run through gaper traffic before sliding under the Superstar chair and making a run for the first hand off at the base. The early lead was shared by several teams as they utilized shady methods and outright treachery while jockeying for position. Team Swanson Chaos held an aggressive line but team captain and eldest brother Bob went too hard into the High Road cutoff and slipped off the trail before disappearing into the woods under a milky cloud of snow dust.

“Yeah, he was ampin’ hard and I could see he didn’t care about consequences so when he went ass over tea-kettle I figured it served him right.” Curfew House first legman, Shane “Hazy” Grady commented afterwards.

The wreck dashed all chances for a podium spot for a team which came in with eyes on a title shot.

“He knew better…we knew better. Shoulda been Justin’s leg but Bob’s the oldest and he kinda wanted that spot.” A clearly agitated Ben Swanson muttered.

The initial hand off did not go as smooth as some teams would have liked. The K-Fives, Coon Snakes and Ass Magnets all fumbled the transition and found themselves facing a deep hole from which there was little time to climb out of. Coon Snake spokesman, Kelly Champney voiced her displeasure at what she felt was a lack of focus by some squad members.

“I’m not going to sit here and name names but when you can’t even give the baton over the lift rope and insist on stepping out of your bindings to walk it over to me…well, we got problems.” Champney said, barely cloaking her frustrations.

Team Iron Balls, consisting of Tucker, Lil’ Tucker, Cutter and Ittai made a strong show in the first leg of the race but when Lil’ Tuck flipped the baton to Cutter at the Skyeship mid station he neglected to remove the wrist strap and precious seconds were lost in the transition. The lapse infuriated team captain, Tucker Lange and he was not silent about his displeasure.

“*&^%in’ guy can’t even give a proper hand off!” Lange screamed while waiting impatiently at Bear Base as he saw Flowrider, Mustang Ben Colona take the easy pitch from Slopes and board the lift with a three chair gap.

The Curfew House, long known for their tidy sleep habits and pre-race lights-out rule of 8pm, were fresh and rested as Shane “Hazy” Grady easily finished his leg and transitioned smoothly to Ned “Big Legs” Healy. Healy ripped the Cruise Control run and dished the stick to Zack Nasty Ducharme who quickly rebooted his namesake by clipping the binding of Hurrican Boner as he whipped around the cat track and aimed for Bear. The strategy was effective as The Hurricane, riding for an independent team out of Newark known as The Glass Chalice, flew from his skis, turned a cartwheel in midair and planted his face between two hard packed moguls. The Hurricane’s day was done but Mr. Nasty’s wasn’t as he earned frowns from spectators and competitors alike with his reckless disregard for safety and penchant for unsportsmanlike behavior.

“Yeah, that guy…you see that guy lemme know, alright? I want to see him in the parking lot.” Fumed Team Rabid Mice victim, John Durney. Durney was making good time when Nasty approached from behind and lodged an elbow into Durney’s side causing another glorious pile up which netted skiers from three teams. Nasty simply laughed at the allegations.

“I wasn’t even on the course at that time.” Nasty lied.

In what was supposed to be a coming out party of sorts from one of the ladies teams, Snowpatrollers Melissa Gerlach, Alex Shuppert, Amy Dorr and Beth Standbridge came away less than advertised with a slow showing and listless performance which quickly had fingers being pointed and tear ducts working overtime.

“Meli! Step Your Game UP!” An animated Alex Shuppert bellowed from the viewing platform as she saw her stallion-like efforts go for naught when Melissa Gerlach breezily swooshed her way down the course, oblivious to the pressures and tensions of competition. The resulting shouting match proved too much for Standbridge and the supporting cast who quit the race, melted into tears and angrily threatened each other with vows to forcibly take back loaned copies of Madmen DVDs.

“I thought I did very well, thank you.” Melissa said sweetly after she completed her run and the rest of the combatants were long vanished from the staging area.

More drama ensued on the back side of the race as the course’s longest leg stretched from Skye Peak though the Snowshed beginner’s area and under the access road via the ski tunnel. Team Iron Balls honcho, Tucker Lange, still seething at Cutter’s lamentable showing, tore through the run with a vengeance as he tracked an elusive Slopes who held a slim margin over Curfew House, The Snow Gunners and Rookie House. Rookie House front-runner, Kat Lafferty had one desire, to finish in the hunt and get the baton to their anchor-lady, Monica Marois. She came close but as she cut the corner into the tunnel her inside leg was cut from underneath by Tucker in an obvious effort to dislodge her from her skis. The ploy worked and as Lafferty careened into the tunnel wall and vanished from view her screams terrified the assembled crowd. The hollow thunk of bodies flailing into the tunnel walls could be heard above the maniacal laughter of Tucker who emerged from the darkness and handed the baton to Iron Balls anchor, Uncle Bob who boarded the chair just a few slots behind race leader, Lisa Solinger of Team Flowrider.

The sketchiness of Tucker’s action was not lost on those who saw it and possible repercussions could be aimed Tucker’s way once the authorities are able to conclude their investigation.

“We do not encourage the aggressive style of skiing Mr. Lange showed today and we will look into the matter to see if punishment is warranted.” Ski Patrol spokesman, Randall Van Aardsmore said when contacted.


Digging into his ample supply of Busch Light Uncle Bob fortified himself for the final dash to the finish line in front of the Roaring Brook Umbrella Bars but Solinger was not about to allow the race to become close. She waited at the top of Ramshead Quad and just as Uncle Bob disembarked she swung the lift operator’s shovel into Uncle Bob’s face. His beer exploding into a cloud of foam, Bob coughed and sputtered through the confusion but by the time he’d regained his senses Solinger was long gone and Curfew House anchorman, Steve “The Gunslinger” Andrew wasn’t far behind her.

Looping past the K1 Lodge via the Great Northern trail, Solinger took the rope and capped an impressive outing for the unseeded Flowrider Team. Gunslinger Andrew held his Euro tuck for the final charge and eased under the gates a few moments before Uncle Bob who nailed down a solid third place finish for the Iron Balls squad. Showing the ‘refuse to lose’ spirit that the Swanson Brothers are known for, Team Swanson Chaos made steady progressions after elder brother, Bob’s disastrous catapult into the woods and finished a respectable ninth with Justin’s impressive anchoring job.

Straggling in far behind the leaders were the Ass Magnets, Trench Rats and Glass Chalice but it was nearly an hour by the bar clock before Amy Dorr sidled under the rope and signed the card for the Rocket Ladies who locked up last place and the honor of picking up the tab for the post-race party.

“I gotta do what, now?” Dorr asked in confusion when told of the fine print rule. “So that’s why everyone was taking this thing so seriously?”

With the third leg of The Killington Cup now in the books the leader board has shrunk and top honors might soon be decided.

“If that cup don’t say, ‘Zack Nasty Ducharme on it by April I’m gonna be out to hurt somebody.” Nasty D. said as he worked a file on his ski edges in preparation for the forecasted retaliations he knew were coming.

Killington Relay Final Results

1st Place- Team Flowrider (Mark D., Mustang, Slopes and Solinger)
2nd Place- Curfew House (Grady, Healy, Ducharme and Andrew)
3rd Place- Team Iron Balls (Tucker, Lil’ Tuck, Cutter and Uncle Bob)
4th Place Team Sneak
5th Place Coon Snakes
6th Place- Rabid Mice
7th Place- Rookie House
8th Place- Snow Gunners
9th Place- Team Swanson Chaos
10th Place- K-Fives
11th Place- Ass Magnets
12th Place- Trench Rats
13th Place- Glass Chalice

Last Place- Rocket Ladies

Government (In)Action

A short glimpse into the state of the nation as we close the book on summer 2011 finds a country mired in a zero-growth economy with just over 9% of the eligible workforce sitting on the sidelines. Add to that a dismal housing forecast which predicts record numbers of homes entering the foreclosure stage and you’ve got yourself a reason to feel slightly uneasy about not only your future but the future of those retirement plans you’ve been funneling into that diminishing 401K for the last few years.

In a nutshell, times are hard, things are bad and man, we could really use a knight in shining armor to come riding into town with a message of “Hey, don’t you worry, things are gonna be alright!”

Well, thank God for the United States Government because here they come, right on cue and wow, do they have a plan for us.

You may have heard whispers in the wind about a Jobs Bill which the president put to congress last week. Might have seen that stirring speech he gave as part of the pre-game hype before the NFL kicked off last week? To recap that all you gotta know is if congress passes this bill we can all look forward to a reborn economy and brighter days ahead.

Sounded good to me and being of the sort who likes to offer an even chance to back a claim I thought the bill might be worth reading to see how this brighter tomorrow is to come about. 451 sections of legalese spread over 199 pages later I think I can offer an insight as to what this bill means, how it’s supposed to work and who it’s going to benefit. So let’s dive in and see what the latest version of an American Stimulus Package is all about.

First off, the thing is a spending bill. It plans on dropping over $450,000,000,000 into the American economy in the hope 1.9 million people will find gainful employment as a result. And if the bill does nothing else I will admit its free use of all those zeros at the end of every expenditure do an effective job of placing some hard to swallow reality to the thing. A billion dollars really is an extremely impressive amount of money.

So we’ll spend $450,000,000,000 to fix the economy. Okay, sounds like a plan. Anybody who has looked around the country over the last decade can certainly reel off a list of projects that could use some cash and I wonder what kind of pride and unity could be gained from a bold idea like “Let’s go to the moon!” or “Let’s build a railroad from New York to LA which takes six hours to get there!” could do so yeah, I’m intrigued.

But for anyone out there who thinks this “Jobs” bill is about setting a bold national plan to rebuild the country and have physical testaments to what we’ve done along the lines of 1930’s depression projects like the Hoover Dam or the citizen labor brigades of the Civilian Conservation Corps is going to be sadly disappointed. Because unless you work for the government, or were recently laid off by the government, this plan is most likely not going to touch you in the slightest.

There are jobs in the bill, don’t forget that. It’s just the jobs they’re primarily talking about are the ones cops, firemen and teachers hold. Public sector jobs. And I’m all in favor of teachers, cops and firemen but I do kinda wonder if we really and truly need all the cops we currently have. I mean, I see at least two cops (at good hourly wages) working highway roadwork details as I do for every cop doing something (anything) else. And when we’re as strapped as we are do we need to spend those types of wages on what, in all reality, is not much more than a work zone flagman?

I’m just saying, we’re in a very serious national state of peril right now and as such, could we maybe look around for areas to streamline instead of jacking up the status quo?

Okay though, what else is in there? Surely there’s a plan to put people to work, isn’t there? Get some things lined out, identify some areas where improvements are needed and set some systems to attack the issue?

Well, one doesn’t need to look farther than America’s decaying infrastructure to locate some areas where immediate improvements are needed. Our highways, bridges, levees, rural roads, etc…are in dire need of repair or outright rebuild. The congressional study sighted by the bill itself says we’ll need to spend $2,200,000,000,000 (that’s trillion) over the next five years alone just to raise our infrastructure to an “adequate” level. So there’s $27,000,000,000 set aside for highway spending, $2,000,000,000 on airports and $2,000,000,000 on Amtrak. Good start, right? Well, aside from the Amtrak thing. We did that already with Stimulus One and travel by rail in America is still 3rd Class anyway you look at it.

But take a look into the highway plan. That’s a lot of money so somebody should be in control of how it’s spent and where it goes, right? Well, this is where the government of The United States of America truly displays its excellence. What will we do?

Create another layer of bureaucracy, of course!

So let me introduce you to the American Infrastructure Finance Authority. There’s going to be a board of directors, a CEO, full slate of senior management and office space in DC. Now I will say, these are a few of the actual jobs which the bill will manage to create but again, I don’t think these jobs are for the average Joe American. They’re presidentially appointed and subject only to a Senatorial consent.

It will be under this authority where the money will be distributed. They’ll be in charge of a huge budget and will make loans of that money to those they feel worthy. Not such a terrible idea but then, remember the $550,000,000 given to that solar company out in California with Stimulus One? The company that was supposed to lead the way in a new field of Amer-I-CAN technology?

Yeah, that money’s gone. Company went bankrupt two weeks ago.

Government bureaucracy just doesn’t have a great track record so my confidence is less than stellar when it comes to this latest government plan.

Moving on though we see a little organization called Project Rebuild which will get $15,000,000,000 to spend on urban clean up. 66% of this 15 bill is going to the HUD who is tasked to fill the ranks with low income labor to ‘clean up’ urban blight. Correct me if I’m wrong but haven’t we been doing this for like, what forty years? Been downtown lately? Still looks kinda grim, don’t it?

But there is some positivity in this part too. There’s $1,500,000,000 in grant money available to those who wish to train the labor force. But unless you can prove you’re only going to train low income people you won’t see any of this cash. The 2 Billion set aside to subsidize labor is restricted to hiring either the unemployed or low income adults.

A few years ago I worked construction in the low income neighborhoods of Richmond, Virginia. Worked for a crew on an HUD contract and we employed some of the ‘low income’ types the government speaks so fondly of. We’d have plenty of work to do but the ‘hand out’ labor force we were assigned weren’t eager to work or proud to do so. They refused to invest in tools (hammer, tape measure), failed to listen to instruction and were not of the sort who could be counted on to show up for work five days in a row. And a nine am start time for us meant 10:30 to them.

I’m not saying the lower income population should be left out in the cold and ignored, I’m just saying when we’re tasked with rebuilding the economy we might have better success if we set our sites a little higher and looked to employ those who actually want to work as opposed to those who are more than content not to.

I mean, the 99 week extension of unemployment benefits the bill provides should be enough to cover them anyway, right? I still scratch my head at the irony of a Jobs Bill which sets aside billions to keep people unemployed but then there is much to this world which I fail to comprehend.

Anyway, I could go on but I would imagine of the thirty or so people who began to read this there’s probably less than half of you left. So let’s hit a conclusion and see what happens from here.

Is this a good bill? No, it won’t do a thing to fix the economy. About all you’ll ever see of this government waste will be those pretty road construction signs saying “Your tax dollars at work! American Jobs Act of 2011!” Other than that you can kiss this cash goodbye.

But should it be passed into law? Yes, it should. Because at its root this bill is nothing but a political toy, a campaign chip. Obama and The Left put this ridiculous scam together with the belief it will be held up by a republican congress. When the republicans miss the boat on this (as they will) the Obama re-election crew can give us 14 months of speeches about how they had a plan to fix the economy but the republicans refused to ‘help the American people…”

So pass the sunuvabitch and put it back on the clowns in charge. Expect another year of 9% unemployment and let this administration hang itself with its own rope.

And remember this, your own indifference and refusal to look into what our government does is how we got to where we are. And as long as they can rely upon ignorance and apathy we can expect nothing less than more of the same…

September 11 and The Shadow Theory

September 11…Bring The Theories

I love conspiracy theories. Love the sound of Black Ops, Shadow Government and the thought of nefarious little schemers plotting for global control from underground bunkers. Magic bullets, secret wars and puppet masters pulling strings as they profit from our compliance.

But proving a theory isn’t as easy, or as sexy, as taking the baton and running with it. We’ll mark the tenth anniversary of the September 11 attacks this year and ten years on we’re still trying to figure out the who, what, why and how it all went down. Some buy the ‘accepted’ version of events while others don’t or won’t. Compelled to question, forced to refute and unsatisfied with the overall picture the 9/11 Conspiracy Theorists have made the claim it was not an Islamic motivated attack on America to spread a global jihad but an inside job planned and executed by those who sat in the power seats at the millennial turn.

I’m with it. I get it. I hear the noise and lend an eager ear to see if something’s there. And I dig through the rhetoric, peel back the layers and work my mind through history to see what the truth really is. And if it’s possible to back it, stack it and prove it.

And maybe what I’m saying here will make a little sense and sway some opinion. Regardless, I welcome the challenge and ask only if I’m wrong, to please verify my errors and provide evidence of contrarian support.

To begin, I believe September 11, 2001 was a coordinated attack on America by an organized, well funded and highly motivated terrorist network based in the Afghanistan caves with a tentacle reach through Europe and into the United States. In short, I’m buyin’ the advertised opinion. But I get the unease which follows the story and I’ve dug through the pieces to fight for truth and refute the other view.

So come on along and let’s see where you stand and if you’ll bite my bait or still swear allegiance to the sexier side of history.

To begin, let’s look into the ‘Conspiracy Theory’. Let’s take a peek and see what all the fuss is about and how something can get so twisted and bent out of shape. In a nutshell, according the 9/11 Truther movement, September 11 was a coordinated, government attack on America for the purpose of starting a foreign war for personal profit. Our own government planned the attack, sent in the planes, wired the buildings for controlled collapse, fire-rocketed the Pentagon and shot down Flight 93 to lull the citizenship into terrified compliance with their secretive strategy to enter America into an endless war for the control of oil and the formation of an authoritative state.

In other words, Dick Cheney planted detonation devices in the World Trade Center so that Haliburton would receive billions in government war contracts.

Now that’s what I call a sexy story. And I wish it were true. I wish it could be proved and I wish we’d rise up, throw the shackles of oppression from our shoulders and sling those perpetrators from the nearest branch.

But I can’t.

I can’t because I cannot find a single shred of verifiable fact to support the story. On the other hand, there’s a pretty well established trail of historical support to make a sound argument that a nest of radical Islamists got highly offended by the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in the fall of 1989 and gleefully fought a guerilla war against them which sent shockwaves of unity throughout the Muslim world and, after being shunned by the Saudi government with their voluntary offer to take care of Saddam in 1990-91, set out on an Islamic Jihad against the western world to fight for an Islamic state, free of the foreign infidel.

That’s the history side of the show and while there’s a lot to back it up that ain’t why you’re here reading this. We want to take the Truther Movement, hear their argument and then see if holds the water.

So let’s dive on in and sort some of this out, shall we?

Now, we’re not going to look at the big picture and try to find proof of Cheney’s wickedness or attempt to locate sources with knowledge of detonators laid throughout the World Trade Center complex or even try to come up with an explanation of where the 9/11 planes disappeared to or how, once the Iraq War was started, it actually brought down an administration instead of giving it permanent secret powers so hold on to your horses for the immediate present.

For now we’ll take the 9/11 Truther ‘evidence’ and see where it goes.

There is no shortage of websites and pamphlet proof to back the 9/11 claims of conspiracy. But they do, for the most part, follow some tasty newsbytes and singular events which then lead to the growing suspicions. Think about the JFK assassination and how the ‘Magic Bullet Theory’ was too hard to swallow and thus made for a reasonable assumption that something had to be amiss. That’s where this movement took its root.

And among the bullet point discrepancies which litter the internet there are a couple which stand out for their peculiarities. We’ll look at those and go from there.

WTC 7 was a controlled collapse, Flight 93 left a debris field, no plane hit the pentagon, jet fuel doesn’t burn hot enough to melt steel and the towers came down due to secondary explosions planted prior to the attacks.

On their own these are pretty wild claims. Bundled together they can pose a host of questions but like most things, if you peel the layer back and look at it from the source things begin to make more sense.

And again, all this starts because the Truth varies from what the government has told us. Remember, we aren’t asked to think for ourselves but to blindly accept what they’d like us to believe.

And while I’d like to believe my health care costs will go down, Social Security will be there for me, we went to war to bring ‘democracy to Iraq’ and the Department of Homeland Security is well-tuned, efficient machine of bureaucracy…well, I already bought the Brooklyn Bridge and it never got delivered.

Anyway, here we go. In no particular order let’s debunk some theories.

Jet Fuel Doesn’t Burn Hot Enough To Melt Steel: No. It doesn’t. But 9/11 Truthers want us to believe the government is telling us the jet fuel which started the fires in the Twin Towers melted the steel trusses and brought the buildings down. In fact, all the jet fuel on the site is generally considered to have burned off within ten minutes of impact.

So if jet fuel didn’t melt the steel trusses what did? Well, first off, the steel didn’t melt. It did expand, it did weaken and it did fail but it didn’t melt. The planes’ impact pushed vast amounts of combustible material into the buildings (chairs, rugs, desks, etc…) and the ensuing fire was estimated to have reached 1832 degrees Fahrenheit (Popular Mechanics). A fire of that strength could soften the trusses enough to fail, thus forcing the floors above to collapse upon themselves and each pan-caked floor below would fail in rapid succession. This pan-cake effect also accounted for the ‘explosions’ which sounded very much like a controlled detonation not unlike something we’d see on great television shows like “When Buildings Collapse”.

WTC North and South Were Controlled Collapses: Uhhh, no they weren’t. They were actually quite out of control and quite different from each other. But let’s say for the sake of argument they were controlled collapses and they were brought down by previously planted explosives (that damned Dick Cheney!).

The overwhelming video evidence marks the point of initial building failure. You can clearly see the steel exterior of the buildings snap as their supports give way. I believe they snapped due to weakened steel caused by the fire from the planes’ impact but hey, let’s say there were explosives attached to the vertical supports and they were ignited in sequence to begin the reaction.

Well, this has to mean the planes were precisely sent to their corresponding floors to ignite the diversionary flames which then masked the explosions…So hey pilot, while you’re flying that massive jet into a building (on live TV in the case of the South Tower) make sure you park it exactly between the 94th and 98th floors (North Tower) and the 78th and 84th floors of the South Tower so we can synchronize the collapse, alright?…

Both Frontline and National Geographic, among many others, have video evidence of the collapse beginning at these locations so…well, I’ll leave it at that.

WTC 7 Was A Controlled Collapse- Well, of course. It had to be. Why? Well, because there’s a recording of an NYC Fire Chief saying into his walkie-talkie “Pull It” a few minutes prior to the collapse. ‘Pull It’ of course, is a term used by demolition crews to announce the firing of the detonators during a demolition. While it can also be used as a phrase to ‘pull’ any personnel from a flaming building that wouldn’t support our claim that Bush Lied and People Died, would it?

The collapse itself is questioned though. Far too neat to be the result of a huge chunk of falling debris and a fire which burned out of control for nearly five hours. Of course the unique design of WTC 7 and the way its support columns were located (and subsequently taken out by the afore mentioned falling debris) wouldn’t make much scientific sense (sarcasm) but then who needs science when we’re talkin’ ‘bout Shadow Governments, right?

Flight 93 Was Shot Down- One part of the 9/11 Truther movement I find so amazing is the incredible ability of our own government (the ones who brought you the TSA! And Medicaid!) to operate with such pin-point precision during hours of remarkable chaos. So, Flight 93 (the final plane) was shot down on its way to Washington. Why? Well, to prevent it from hitting the White House…or the Capitol Building.

Now this one is one I’d actually like to believe. I mean, the government, knowing we’re under attack by elements willing to kill us, can flip into action and rustle up a fighter to knock the offending missile from the sky. And while this is probably the one aspect of the Truther movement the government wished were true it simply did not happen because without the transponder on Flight 93 (those bastards turned the locators off) we had no idea where this thing was exactly. But due reports of a ‘debris field’ found several miles away at Indian Lake it could have only meant one thing…which was the plane was shot down.

Turns out the ‘debris field’ story originated from a single article on CNN.com written on September 13, 2001 which did reveal the presence of debris 3 miles from the Flight 93 crash site. The debris in question? Paper, tatters of clothing, seat fabric…that sort of thing. The same kind of things which could get carried by the wind after a catastrophic impact…

Oh, and the ‘white plane’ seen in the area which of course shot 93 down? That was a corporate jet from the Wrangler company obliging the FAA and landing at nearby Greensboro Airport. Air traffic control asked it to investigate during its descent and it diverted its flight plan to take a ‘look see’ which it did and reported from 1500 feet that yes, there was a pretty large hole in the ground.

Pentagon Ws Hit By A Rocket- Well, no it wasn’t. A plane flew into the building and shredded itself on the re-enforced concrete (which explains why you don’t see an outline of a plane on the exterior). But since there was no video imaging of the impact it could only mean the US Military fired a rocket at itself to…to…wait a minute…to throw suspicion off! Yeah, close enough.

Plane residue, tail section and the black box were all retrieved from the Pentagon site but…well, that doesn’t help us out ‘cause damn it! We want some conspiracy goin’ on!

Anyway, there’s a start. I understand it doesn’t sound as cool as the Shadow Government but hey, truth is sometimes lamer than fiction. And I know there’s room to pick and pull the story above apart and I welcome the discussion but if we are to argue let’s try to argue these points as well. Gimme some opinion on these questions:

1. If 9/11 was a conspiracy and the planes weren’t commercial aircraft then where did those planes (and passengers) go? Where?
2. If demolitions were planted in the towers (and let’s at least agree they had to be at the impact floors) how were they not noticed prior to 9/11? The South Tower impact zone was right at the 78th floor Sky Lobby, one of the most trafficked areas in the entire building…how they’d go unnoticed?
3. Please explain away the Islamic Jihad…
4. No really, explain how Mohammed Atta and Co. were taking flight classes, living in America and being associated with radical Islamists well before September 11…
5. Please explain the 1993 WTC attack and how that fits, or doesn’t fit into the method and mayhem of Al-Quaida
6. Explain the assassination of Northern Alliance general Ahmad Shah Masoud on September 9, 2001…a key opponent to Al-Quaida whose strategic removal hindered the Northern Alliance’s leadership during the ensuing retaliation by Western forces…
7. Please provide a motive for 9/11 to be an ‘inside job’…why would anybody think this would be a worthwhile idea?


Anyway, hopefully this will get us started. I welcome the rebuttals but let’s make sure we’re using fact, not opinion. Give me the verifiable proof to support your stance. I’ll listen, I’ll expand. I’ll take it with respect and we can debate intellectually.

But bring the argument and make it stand.

Live Free Or Die,

Jed Dunham
July 16, 2011

Sources consulted include: CNN, PBS Frontline, CBS News, National Geographic, Time Magazine and Popular Mechanics…also, 911truth.org, infowars.com and 911 Loose Change.

Friday Prayers and Change in The Middle East

"Egypt? Isn't that where they have all those pyramids?"


Yes. Yes it is...


So maybe you heard they have a little 'sumpthin sumpthin' going on over there these last few days? Maybe you've heard enough to start asking yourself "Why do I keep hearing about this?" Maybe you want to know why it's starting to matter and, to be more specific, why it's going to matter to you?


For starters pretty much anything that happens in the Middle East is going to have an impact on your daily life. There's that whole oil thing which, I must admit, I'm pretty dependant on. Then there's that Suez Canal which allows a significant portion of the world's commercial shipping traffic to flow through thus saving the arduous circumvention around the Horn of Africa. And, if memory serves correctly, there's still that situation involving global terrorism which, difficult as it may to be to admit, is centered on a belief in radical Islam.


So when a hard party rule that's kept the status quo in the world's most populous Arab country begins to ride the wave of revolution threatening both our valued ally (despot though he may be) and, far more importantly, a fragile peace with Israel...well, maybe you start getting the idea.


But what's it mean? Why now? Who's who and how did it come to this? And of far more interest, what happens next?


Well, nobody really knows what happens next but by the time your eyes have scrolled this deep into the story we may begin to see the direction the ball will roll. Friday Prayers will probably make the global headlines and might even be bench-marked as the moment when it all began to change in the Middle East. That's about 24 hours from now.


A best case scenario might mean a transfer of power and a peaceful move to a representative democracy where the good of the people comes before power, wealth and might. Could be a moment for us all to link arms, drop a few bars of 'Kum-Bay-Yah' and marvel at how cool it was to actually give peace a chance.


But, like they say in Vegas, "Good Luck With All That."


It could be the start of a worst case scenario which, in the darkest hours, means the tearing up of the fragile peace treaty with Israel, a ground war in the region and, if lunacy gets an upper hand, the first nuclear device detonated in anger since early August of 1945...


So yeah, you might say this is kind of a big deal.


So take a peek back and follow the story and let's see if we can't make our own conclusions on the subject. To refresh, a few weeks ago, mid December, a young Tunisian man who couldn't find work, couldn't pay the bills and was kept down by a government that lived by the principle "It just ain't about you" felt pushed enough that the only way out was to voice a protest. So he doused himself in gasoline and lit the match. Publicly. And The People dug it. Said, "Damn, man! If that cat has the stones to do that then I'll do this."


And thus began the Middle Eastern Twitter Revolution of 2011 which resulted in a dictator being overthrown by the populace. There was bloodshed, there was strife and the young man did eventually die. But Tunisia changed it's own history and things are looking up for them.


So The People got excited and said "Why not try that for ourselves?...well, aside from that whole lighting ourselves on fire thing..." And the streets of the region began to fill as the oppressed united their voice and called for Change.


Enter the Egyptians and despised president Hosni Mubarak. Apparently he's not so generous with the two billion dollars we Americans fork over annually to keep him from invading Israel or allowing his compadres to do so. Which is a bit odd since 1.3 of those billions are sent directly to the Egyptian military, but that's another story for another day.


Anyway, Mubarak's time is up. Or is it? The people want him gone, that much is certain. But the military hasn't weighed in yet (wait for Friday Prayers). And Mubarak's answer to The People of sacking his cabinet and promising to leave office in September just hasn't been enough to sway the protest back underground.


So what is a dictator to do? Well, he doesn't want to leave power, that much he's shown. And while the world praises the military's restraint (wait till Friday) and the protest turn towards violence the world wonders who will fill the stage once Mubarak is gone.


That's quite the question because if Egypt goes democracy then so will the region and that is something nobody thought possible. But it might not go straight democracy. Could go hard line Islamic much like Iran did in 1979 and thus the parallels are drawn. That's a fear because again, it threatens the peace with Israel which threatens everything as we know it.


I don't see that parallel though. I see a similarity along the lines of another major revolution from our modern era which has changed our world more than any other event aside from 9/11.


Beijing. June, 1989. Everybody thought the wind of change was swirling there too and that The People! would rise and rule. Then, the Communists split the opposition, made a deal with the military, sent in the tanks and Squash! so went democracy in China...


That's what I see here. Could be wrong. Hopefully I am. But the longer Mubarak stays in power the stronger he becomes. And that military? Those 468,000 active duty troops who control some 1/3 of the Egyptian economy? Well, maybe they've been silent because there's some deals being made. Deals like, "Hey, I'll give you the top spots in my new cabinet and you keep me in power, capaiche?"


So keep it tuned these next few hours. When prayers let out there could be some very serious action going on in the streets of Egypt.


And if Mubarak is still in power come Monday...well, then he may be in power for a long time to come and thus the Middle East may swing deeper into hard line rule and farther from a democratic styled government.


It's major world history and it's happening right now...

Human Disaster

The disaster in the Gulf of Mexico has produced at least one piece of positive news; the finger nails on chalkboard screech of 'Drill Baby Drill' seems to have been eliminated from the political rallies of the upcoming dirt-slinging season.


Sadly, that appears to be the end of the good news as best case scenarios now include spraying the gulf waters with a chemical variation of Agent Orange (so toxic it is banned in the UK), a Hail Mary attempt to plug the leak and an estimated 185,000 to 7.7 million barrels of oil desecrating the coastline of the southern United States.


It is, as they say, a pretty Bad Deal.


But what happened? What is happening and what does the future hold?


The facts are nearly as murky as the dark stained sludge which now coats the wings of the Louisiana State Bird. This much we know; on April 20 at 11pm an explosion occurred on the Deepwater Horizon, an exploratory, deep water oil rig 52 miles off the coast of Louisiana. The resulting fire killed eleven people and unleashed a gaping hole some 5000 feet below the surface from which crude oil is now gushing at a rate of 5,000-210,000 barrels per day, every day, for what could be the rest of our lives.


The Gulf of Mexico, as we remember it, may be no more.


British Petroleum, the London based company which leased the rig from Transocean, bears the weight of the responsibility but we will uncover more than enough scapegoats within the confines of the courtroom in the decade to come. Blame, at present, is not our primary concern.


Containing the leak, cleaning the mess and implementing changes to ensure this cannot happen again are where our attentions must now be focused. And this will challenge us to our collective core because greed, impatience and inattention are traits which have plagued humanity from the moment we emerged from the caves.


It is slowly being revealed that the Deepwater Horizon suffered from colossal oversights in regards to the proper methods for extracting oil from beneath the earth, whether that that extraction was taking place on land, off shore or, in this case, far off shore. And since the expenses incurred during this difficult process are staggering, BP was on the hook for one million dollars per day to lease the rig, the motivation to exceed established goals was, to say the least, extreme.


The rig was behind schedule, which, to any sane Capitalist, means it was losing money. Hours before the rig exploded a team of BP executives visited the site and, finding the results lacking, encouraged the pace of drilling to be increased. This resulted in the removal of heavy drilling fluid from the underwater pipes and replacing it with seawater, the final nail in a coffin which was set afloat months, perhaps years, perhaps generations ago. A methane bubble of gas gurgled through the line, ignited upon some unknown trigger and sent a fireball into the Gulf night. Two days later the rig quivered, then toppled into the ocean and the oil continued to spurt at an alarming rate from the broken 21 inch pipe.


Our attention was diverted due to our inability to comprehend what was happening so far off shore. Out of sight, out of mind. And the initial projections seemed to alleviate our fears. It wasn't so bad, those who were supposed to know kept saying.


38 days later it's no longer out of sight. And most assuredly, it will not be of mind for many, many years to come. Human error abounds throughout this colossal disaster which has the potential to make Hurricane Katrina look like a mid-summer rain shower if we are unable to implement a solution.


The anger which is brewing along the Gulf Coast threatens not only the existence of the world's third largest oil company but the multi-layered bureaucracy of the federal government and perhaps, even, the presidency of one Barrack Hussein Obama.


There is an invasion occurring along our southern shores by a relentless force which knows no mercy, bears no feelings and will not be stopped unless action is inflicted on a mammoth scale.


And as this attack happens we have placed our security in the hands of a foreign company which dictates to us what will be done, how it will be done and who will do it.


America's chickens, as the fiery Reverend Wright predicted, have finally come home to roost.


We're 38 days in at this point and every card in the deck is in the hands of a company with a financial stake on how the disaster is perceived, not on how it is resolved. BP would very much like to have the images of an oil slicked ocean surface removed from the nightly news. It is for this reason they are inundating the gulf waters with a chemical toxin banned in their own country. This chemical, applied by our own Coast Guard, might very well 'disperse' the crude oil from the surface but what then of the oil as it sinks a mere fifty feet below it? Out of sight, out of mind?


What happens in ten years when Gulf Coast shrimp becomes a cancer causing carcinogen far more lethal than cigarettes?


Oh, I forgot. We'll all have government sponsored health care by then.


The very same government ineptitude which failed in the aftermath of Katrina now seats a thousand at shore-side tents for daily buffets while the marshy wetlands on the outer perimeter of the gulf are being overrun by the relentless sludge of our latest enemy.


Where is the action? Who owns the back-up plan? Why, when the enemy is storming the gates, must we seek permission to defend ourselves?


Governor Bobby Jindal of Louisiana has pleaded with the federal authorities for over a month for the green light to enact a dredging operation which might protect the wetlands. His calls to Washington go directly to voicemail.


Shrimpers all along the coastline, with boats able to tote slick-stopping booms, have begged to join the fight. BP turns a blind eye, the Coast Guard deflects requests to another authority and the man with unlimited miles on Air Force One says we won't rest until the situation is resolved, yet still finds time to stump for campaign contributions in California and won't post-pone a weekend holiday in Chicago.


"Enjoy the carnival." Nero said while Rome burned.


The Untited States of America is the greatest nation on Earth. We will prove this once again in the years following this desecration upon our land and our people. We have placed enormous responsibilities upon our government. In exchange for this we funnel tax dollars to DC which far exceed the return on our investment. We give power to those we elect because we expect government to be our protector when we cannot protect ourselves. When the very responsibility of government is so blatantly disrespected the people will once again rise against.


We elected this president on a platform of change and in turn we get Katrina on steroids. We elected a leader and got a community organizer with a silver tongue. Washington drives our limos, flies our jets and dines on our dime and in doing so has neglected a simple reality.


These are our waters, our shoreline, our borders, our money and this is our country.


We now enter a time when we begin to take it back.


2010 MOTV8R Ski Champion

I got a friend named Tucker. Yeah Tucker.


Go on, say it. Tucker.


Sounds good, right? Yeah, say it loud.


"TUCKER!"


Still sounds cool. You can even say it in passing, like 'Oh, then Tucker rolled by...' and it still holds the edge of conversation. Or late night under darkness in a soft and cooin' like fashion.


"Ohhh, Tuck-ER!"


'Course I never heard those sort of recantations unless Tucker himself was doin't the story tellin'. Usually talking about something he'd already done or was soon about to do '...yah, like it's gonna be...' he'd sometimes say.


See, Tucker is a skiin' machine. Really, he can probably, pretty much ski better than you. Put it this way, I'm a good skier. I'll throw against anybody and look the hell out if you're in my wheelhouse. I can hit the high speeds and on occasion can do so with some pretty good style.


And Tucker? Well, Tucker's a better skier than me. It's in him, kinda like Bo Diddly's daddy told his son; 'Boy, it's in you and it's got to get out!'


And get out it does. Almost every day. One hundred and forty-plus of 'em as a matter of fact. And when you hit the mountain that many times in a season you are not going to be gettin' the bluebird pow-pow that those kids out west gloat about. This is East Coast, bro. Or East Coast Brau-Brau as they'd say in that western type of talk they use out there.


See, East Coast is a little different and as such we're able to swell the chest a bit more than they are out there. But it's not a competition, they got theirs and we got ours and they're welcome to sample our flavor any time they choose. 'Come on out!' we're always sayin' but it's a rare day to find a lift-mate who stacked up the flier miles to jump an eastbound plane so's he could shred the tight and windy steeps of Cannon Mountain. I mean, I suppose I can understand because when you come out here it's like jumping into big league skiing with minor league conditions. It's usually colder, always icier and we don't go for that gourmet lunch line with a catered wait-staff, silverware and cloth napkins. Out here it's pack a lunch, toss it under the lodge table and get your runs in. Then crack the cooler and clank a few PBR's against each other in a congratulatory celebration of survival.


It's just a little different, see?


This ain't about East v. West though and we aren't even going to discuss Europe. This is East Coast and it's about our team and which one of our Rallied Rowdies made the grade, hit the list and is now being called to the podium for the medal drapin' ceremony.


It's the MOTV8R Ski Champ of the 2010 Season and we had some action in the polls this year. Action like Good Action. So we'll gaze upon the head-boppin' crowd assembled and after the band breaks, the SWAG is tossed and every body's got their refill we'll kick off a few of the minor awards to set the flow.


Startin' off let's bring the Rookie of the Year to the stage. This Cat came East from West where he'd built a solid rep and learned the ropes. Turned it into a fine season on all fronts; Pre-ski, Ski and Apres-ski. Held his own and even brought a bunny with him. Mr. Greg Stevens get yer ass up here and take a bow.


Hostess with the Mostest- You know her name, you've heard her roar and she gets more done before three am than most folks do before six...whatever that means. She's Grace Chen, she's SnowHo royalty and she's All Good.


Best Retirement and Turned Out To Pasture was a tough dig because there's so many to pick from. You know these kids, the ones who killed it in high school and didn't know the meaning of 'take it easy' Yeah, those guys. Well, they're out suburban bound now, livin' with the lady (and she don't ski), they got the pretty dog and they might have got out once this season. Too busy they say. Doin' what they won't tell. But to keep them hungry for a possible rebound next year I'll keep the lid on the identity...for now. You know who you are, don't let it happen again...


Comeback of the Year goes to Jeff Madzgiasz. Check his action out in the MOTV8R flick 'Gunstocked Sunday' He rips. Nice job.


Best Irish Ripper? Hands DOWN Brenda Hourihan. She jumped the digs in NYC to get closer to the mount and if you haven't seen her shred you missed out.


Best Skier in the US Army. As far as we know it's Justin Nevins and although he's National Guard we're giving it to him anyway. Put in a solid season then shipped out to Afghanistan. There's a vacant stool at the bar till he gets back. See the flag over the window in the corner? Turn, get the back straight and rip a solid salute (raised fist, hang loose wrist flip or a hats off twirl also acceptable).


Best Bunny? This one's not easy 'cause an East Coast Bunny doesn't care about the weather, will head out solo if she feels it and calls her day complete only when the runs are maxed, the apres sold out, the hot tub ripped, dinner rolled, dancin' done, last call made and the after hours won. Like I said, it ain't an East Coast v. West Coast thing 'cause out here we like a little competition, dig? And while the Tele-Markin' Champ currently resides out west and claims East Coast roots a Bunny, by definition, can't be married. Sorry Heather Paul Featherman but this one was earned by Killington's own Miss Nancy McLaughlin. Holla!


And now we'll get down to the business of the Top Slots. The MOTV8R Medals for the 2010 Champ. And throwing the disclaimer out there, it doesn't matter if you ski or snowboard, it's all about the mountain day and it doesn't matter what gets you out there. I'm just not going to continually write 'ski or ride' every time I'm talking about it. Dig? Sure you do.


So the list of eligibles was long and deep but after the December Days went by and the January storms rolled into February rains and March Madness came and went there were those who started strong, held the edge and finished with a Bang! We start early out here and we hang on till the snow is gone. The easy nod? That's the Honorable Mention which is, of course, the lamest of all the awards because it basically says 'Yeah, you were good but not good enough'


Zack Nasty Ducharme get your ass on up here and then get your ass back to your seat. Congratulations, I guess.


Third Place and Bronze Medal Man? That's Mr. Billy 'BG' Sincavage. Hit it hard, hit it early and kept hittin' it long after the lifts had stopped. He ripped the whole season, summitted Mt. Washington and then flew across the pond (and no, I'm not talking about the A. Ocean, I'm talking about the Killington Pond for Season's End Pond Skimmin') Nice work, take a bow and go on backstage, there's some sumpthin' sumpthin' waitin' on ya.


Second Place and Silver Medal? Tough call and to the wire. Not decided on by days alone because how can you measure heart? This cat ripped East, went West (twice) and showed 'em what it was like and then came back, led the Tuckerman Trip (17 Freaks), got to the summit, shredded it down and turned around to take the Pond Skimmin' Title! Mr. Shane P. Grady unlock those lips from your lady-friend and bow your head for the Champagne Dunk. Nicely done and well earned.


Gold Medal Champion and Overall Winner...The hush settles and the crowd murmurs the obvious for if it wasn't Shane then it could have only been one other. So answer the bell Mr. Tucker A. Lange and clunk on up to center stage to bask in the glory. It was a close shave but the early season hikes, the rainy day refusals, the daily grindage, the Wildcat Sub-Zero, The 140+ days of foot 'n boot skiin' and the one that tipped it, the one piece that edged the Man was a late season cruise to Canada. He hit it all, did it well and earned turns even after the lifts shut down by donnin' the skins and rockin' uphill under his own steam.


Anything to say, Mr. Tuck? What's that? Seems to be a bit speechless but trust your MC this dude ain't afraid to run his mouth when the duty calls. Jimmy, let's go to the tape and listen in as Tucker runs a Chairlift Lesson on the varied styles and forms of a cascading cast of East Coast flingers workin' down the mount. Tucker was there to offer his opinion on the style...


"...Arms to far back, this guy's legs aren't bent, eyes out front!, No style at all, this chick is all over the place, too stiff, no balance, this guy?...this guy's actually doing okay, she's leanin' too far back, she's a mess, arms way too wide, draggin' hands, too stiff, what the hell is he doing? Bend your knees, eyes up front, look out! No form at all, she shouldn't even be on the mountain, too squirmy, hands waaay to far back, look at him, no form at all..."


So there it is. Controversial? Sure, Shane coulda grabbed the title and who says a Bunny can't be married? But that's how it is out here, we don't do things to make you feel all warm and sweet inside, we don't ride the fence, we just call it as we see 'em.


And that's how we saw 'em this year.