Another revolting development

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Village Voice
"Last week, however, Comey announced he was leaving the Justice Department to become the general counsel of the defense contractor Lockheed Martin. In his absence, Associate Attorney General Robert McCallum is the most likely choice to be named as the acting deputy attorney general, and thus the man overseeing special prosecutor Patrick J. Fitzgerald's work. But McCallum has been a close personal friend of President Bush. Justice Department officials are once more grappling as to how to best assure independence for investigators. And Democrats on Capitol Hill are unlikely not to question any role in the leak probe by McCallum."

If you're at all conscious, you have at least heard of Plamegate. You get extra credit for knowing that Fitzgerald is the prosecutor in the case. He's investigating the administration's outing of CIA undercover agent Valerie Plame. Now with McCallum's appointment, Rove has direct control over the prosecutor investigating him. Too bad for truth and justice. No surprise though. These days it's either "truth and justice" or the "American way". Can't have both. With the radical right, they are mutually exclusive. McCallum will do whatever Karl tells him to do, which is exonerate him and the rest of the administration's treasonist nazi bastards. Revolting.

Road's end

At first I rode aimlessly around town, then at last came upon the intriguing and lovely Gasoline Alley. Naturally I took it, enjoying its 10 foot hollyhocks and weathered shacks. It was a wonderful distraction but unfortunately, very short. However, in another few blocks and I found myself near the cemetery, a place I'd been meaning to visit ever since we moved here four years ago. I generally feel peaceful in graveyards. It's one of the few places outside the fray. So in I went.

I recognized some of the names. Stodick has a park named after them, the Ruthenstroths a particular part of the valley but I was drawn to a lonely looking white picketed grave in the back corner. It turned out to be the resting place of a boy who died when he was fifty days old. I'm guessing that his parents have since left the valley because the paint was curled, pealing and half gone. I sat nearby and watched the clouds turn from dark gray to pale lavender and finally got centered. After a while I took out my notebook and finished a poem I've been working on for months called "Presence of Mind". It's part of a longer piece that's really perplexing me so making progress was a huge relief.

By this time, the Pine Nut mountains in the east were ghost white beneath a purple sky. Before I left, I strolled around a bit and read some of the tombstones. The saddest was a tiny little grave from the beginning of last century. It was piled with rocks the size of small fruits and measured from the tips of my fingers to the curve of my elbow. It had a cheap aluminum marker the size of a postcard; a pauper's grave. The individual letters were slotted in rather than engraved. The first two, U and n, had fallen out. I looked among the rocks but couldn't find them. The marker simply said "_ _ known Baby Boy".

This evening the clouds were an astounding shade of tangerine. Even the dirt reflected their glow.

Dog days

I'm frazzled from going in circles all day so I'm off for an evening bike ride. Maybe it will help.

Got gas? Got a hundy?

I took this photo in LA a couple of weeks ago. I posted it then as part of an article about the La Brea Tar Pits but I think it's worthy of it's own space. Put it in the Future Nostalgia category.

This particular station was not in the Brentwood area or the Beverly Hills district. It was in a regular neighborhood, as in "previews of coming distractions". Break em in gently, I suppose. While everyone's still discussing the rumor it's already a fact. We'll be happy to buy gas for three dollars a gallon when we see it's on its way to four.

This photo is actually part of the memorabilia of the Bush administration. It's a nostalgic look at cheaper gas, when the nasty elixir was still under $5 a gallon. Don't think that can happen? I just filled up my "fuel efficient" car yesterday and it cost me nearly $30. It used to cost me $10. Before Bush & Co. took over. I can't imagine what people are paying to fill up their ridiculous SUVs. Four, five hundy a month?

I hear Toyota can't keep up with the demand for Prius, their hybrid gas/electric car. We saw several of them when we were in LA. I hear they are particularity desirable because they are hackable. With a few tweaks they can be turned into a fully electric vehicle. Sweet.

Australia's secret shame

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals have called a 45-day moratorium on the campaign against mulesing mutilations and live-sheep exports to allow the Australian Wool Growers Association time to reach an agreement with its members. According to AWGA chair Chick Olsson, talks with PETA have established "workable criteria, that will ultimately benefit all, wool growers, retailers and consumers as well as animal welfare concerns."

I certainly hope so. Mulesing is the process of cutting flesh from the bodies of unmedicated sheep. It defines barbarism but not if you go by Woolisbest sanitized version of the process. Like most propaganda, their argument is based on fact, but like all propaganda, it squints at reality, obscures the argument and omits crucial facts. PETA offers a far more realistic view of mulesing.

What the industry film omits is the fact that they don't anesthetize the animal first. The sheep and lambs are aware, terrified and in a lot of unnecessary pain. They call their technique "surgical". Big whoop. Nazi "doctors"called their death camp experiments "surgical". They splice in the beatific faces of peaceful lambs hoping we will assume this is how lambs look as they are being hacked.

The agreement also raises the standard of care given sheep while shipping them to the slaughterhouse. Ironic, isn't it? As it stands, after the sheep are no longer profitable to the wool merchants, they are crammed aboard multilayered, open deck, disease ridden ships, with little or no access to food or water and must endure a weeks- or months-long journey through all weather extremes to their awaiting deaths. Along the way, sick and injured sheep are routinely ground up in a mincer while fully aware.

Unfortunately the AWGA does not represent the majority of  in Australia who are still opposed to giving up mulesing or medicating the sheep during the process. They'd rather cling to their oh-so-conveniently ignorant past. Old ways die hard. Ask the sheep.

Nugget's hot August night

I can only take so much of even my own ire, the yelling camp to camp, idea clashing against bloody idea, the frenzy of who is right, who is wrong. Like they say, what counts is who is left. Here I have to take the long view. "It" won't go like any of us say, think or feel, right or wrong. Of that I am sure. That's how life is and for me that's a relief.

When I get sick of it all, as I do on a very regular basis, I think about our sun burning out, imploding on itself and becoming ... a dark star? a black hole? an event horizon? ... and I visualize the atoms of our bodies, worlds and "possessions"..... being drawn back into Maha Vishnu's body, perhaps not forever because the idea of forever is a material calculation, but for longer than any of us fussing around in this shit storm can ever have any hope of even beginning to comprehend or respect. It helps me get my perspective back.

So...it's a lovely, peaceful hot August night here in Nevada, and I'm taking a break from it all with my friends Nugget and Delicata. You can join us if you like for Nugget's midnight adventure.