Irony quote of the day

Israeli Deputy Defense Minister Matan Vilnai has threatened a “holocaust” in Gaza if rocket fire continues. “The more Qassam fire intensifies and the rockets reach a longer range, [the Palestinians] will bring upon themselves a bigger holocaust because we will use all our might to defend ourselves,” Vilnai said, momentarily forgetting why his family eventually migrated to Israel after escaping the Nazi death camp, Auschwitz, in southern Poland in 1945.

Don't worry, be happy!

President Bush speaking to Ann Curry earlier this month when asked if he thought the war might be adversely affecting the U.S. economy (with most recent estimates of the total cost of Bush-Cheney war now exceeding three trillion dollars) :

I don't think so. I think actually the spending in the war might help with jobs…because we’re buying equipment, and people are working. I think this economy is down because we built too many houses and the economy’s adjusting.

Dada suggests Bush might just want to consider declaring war on the whole damn Earth if war is so good for the economy. Certainly, with all the rumors of a recession going around, a Third World War might just be the ticket to American prosperity again. Certainly, historically it always been our best economic stimulus.

But yesterday as Bush reassured us the U.S. was not headed for a recession, he had the following conversation with a curious reporter as the price of oil settled well over $100/barrel and the cost of gasoline easily surpassed $4/gallon in San Mateo, CA:

Unleaded gas prices yesterday in San Mateo, CA.
AP photo by Paul Sakuma

Reporter to president Bush: "What's your advice to the average American who is hurting now, facing the prospect of $4 a gallon gasoline?"

Bush (the president seemed baffled): "Wait a minute. What did you just say? You're predicting $4 a gallon gas?" was Bush's first response.

Reporter: "A number of analysts are predicting $4 a gallon gasoline this spring when they reformulate."

Bush: "That's interesting. I hadn't heard that."

Dada wonders about the last time Bush ever filled up his own gas tank. Dada wonders if Bush even knows how, or where to find the little hole the gas goes in?

Asthetics trump warming. Pfffffth!

Today I was surprised around 8:15 in the morning when Sam, my editor, started barking for what I thought was no apparent reason. As I went into the bedroom to apologize to Mrs. Dada who was still asleep for Sam's strange behavior, I was surprised to see she was already awake and to hear her say, "Someone's on the roof!"

As I hurried to the front of the house to peer out a window, I was surprised to learn she was right! I had forgotten today was the day the roofing company promised to arrive when last I spoke to them three months ago.

It was a wonderful, mixed blessing. Wonderful because we were finally getting the roof we've been wanting ever since the El Paso floods of '06 from a local roofer with excellent reputation (and a six month waiting list, which I ruefully refused back in '06 and again in the spring of '07). Bad because I was sitting in my skivvies and robe still sipping on my first cup of coffee trying to get my eyes to focus on the computer monitor's overnight news.

Sam, after initial shock at the perturbance of his daily status quo, accepted all the disconcerting racket over our head's better than I. It's amazing to me how closely the removal of an old roof and installation of a new one sounds remarkably like how I would imagine the advancing sounds of insurgents/revolutionaries fighting U.S. and Canadian forces just inside our city limits might sound. This, of course, as a result of our over stretched military being unable to respond to natural emergencies inside our own United States, or--god forbid--to angry Americans trying to overthrow the present regime with no one to stop them. (You can read about the Civil Assistance Plan pact between the U.S. and Canada here...it didn't get much coverage in American MSM.)

Anyway, whether true or not, in deciding the color of shingles we wanted on the new roof, we opted for -- what else? -- "desert tan." Despite the warning of my gossipy neighbors that it will draw more heat into the house instead of the former white shingles that adorned our rooftop, I have a secret. It won't matter in the very near future what color our shingles are re energy conservation -- that's because there won't be any energy to be conserved!

But more on all of this later. In the meantime, know our darker, heat absorbing desert tan shingles will be working overtime in the global warming days that lie ahead for not only us and all Americans, but citizens globally as well! But the contrast with the white bricks of our house will look just great with the desert tan roof shingles as we swelter beneath 'em in our home sans airconditioning!

Election year, or bringing out the best in everybody!

Just when my faith in mankind as a species was in extreme sag mode, we are blessed with another presidential election year. We couldn't be more fortunate. Suddenly, those 2004 swift boat boys are reemerging from the stagnant slime mold infested bathtubs where they've hibernated since torpedoing wimpy Vietnam hero and presidential candidate John Kerry's bid for the oval office.

Coming in their brightly colored little yellow toy submarines with proof Obama is a suspicious character who refuses to wear a cheap US "made-in-China" lapel flag, or place his right hand over his heart (maybe because he's left handed and that would place his left palm over his right lung?) while reciting the pledge of allegiance, they also come with the rumor Obama is an extremist muslim on a secret mission to destroy the US from within for our enemies, the terrorists. This from extremist right winger slime boat captains who see nothing wrong dragging the country into the international sewer of political opinion in blind support of their president, Bush, as he lies, wages endless wars, tortures and dismantles American's constitutional rights in the name of security.

One must wonder who's really the greater internal threat to the security of the nation -- Bush, his blind swift boat lackeys or Obama.

But as if that weren't enough, there surfaces a picture of Obama on the Drudge Report allegedly sent to Drudge by the Hillary Clinton camp. It's from 2006 in which Obama donned traditional dress during a visit to Africa.

When asked by ABC News' Teddy Davis and Jacqueline Klingebiel about passing the photo to Drudge, Hillary "did not flatly deny the Drudge Report's charge that her campaign leaked a photo of rival Barack Obama in traditional African dress," calling the incident "laughable."

I can only conclude that maybe Barrack's scaring the hell out of a lot of people because suddenly the torpedoes are not just coming from the swift boat captains on the right, but maybe from Hillary on the left as well.

One thing's certain: There'll be no shortage of things to talk about this year!

The Sands of Time

A couple of pictures from last Monday's President's Day trip up to White Sands National Monument. Contrary to my pre-trip plan to contemplate the late president Hoover who set aside this monument for all to enjoy, I confess: I never once thought of Herbert Hoover during our entire visit there.

(Click to enlarge all photos.)

As we drove into the gypsum dunes, I was awed by scenes like these . I would stop and take a picture or two. Then, after recording each pristine scene, Sam and I would go out and trample all over it, for as we long ago learned it is our destiny, no - our duty like all good Americans - to track up the landscape and leave our footprints wherever we go, not just in New Mexico, but globally.

After a particularly arduous workout messing up the sand dune (in the background) with foot and paw prints, Mrs. Dada, Sam and I paused to picnic beneath one of the sheet metal shelters built as a source of the only shade to be found in White Sands. (Unless one spreads a blanket under the car to eat.)

The dunes, incredibly white and reflective, especially in the brutal sun of summer, make it possible to get an even tan all over one's body, i.e., armpits, bottom of one's nose, and inner thighs, by the solar rays reflected back up and off the sands. This makes the price of admission ($3.00) well worthwhile for those conscious of the cost of tanning lotions and salons for those normally "hard to reach places" (for the sun).

Sam and I atop a fast moving dune. (Photo by Mrs. Dada. Con-
trary to the photo's impression, Sam's tail is NOT cropped!)

Finally, one tidbit of information we learned: There are four types of sand dunes and the fastest among them is capable of moving 30 feet/year. Here, Sam and I stand (or, squat) atop one of the faster moving dunes. (Standing was a bit difficult because of the dune's disorienting forward motion.)

As we learned after descending from this one, the scars on the forward front of the dune were formed by tourists scurrying up its face to escape being buried beneath the encroaching sands. (The thought of slower, unsuspecting visitors who didn't make it in time being buried beneath Sam and I was particularly disturbing, as demonstrated by Sam's fascination with the interesting scents he was picking up at the dune's advancing base.)

But the continuous onward march of the dunes bodes badly for Alamogordo, NM, just a few miles eastward and in the direct path of White Sands. But that's actually not so disturbing if one thinks about it. After all, isn't that how each of us inevitably ends up - buried beneath the sands of time?

***

Once more, Bush watches out for we the little people

In light of the most recent revelation about the border wall being constructed between Texas and Mexico, I can only thank my lucky stars knowing I'll be far better protected from the incursions of undocumenteds the terrorists who may dare to cross our Texas border than those less fortunate than I, i.e., those fat cat rich folks who will suffer the the onslaught of intruders through their property. I'm referring to the following from The Texas Observer article:

Holes in the Wall

Homeland Security won’t say why the border wall is bypassing the wealthy and politically connected.

Melissa del Bosque | February 18, 2008 | Web Exclusive

As the U.S. Department of Homeland Security marches down the Texas border serving condemnation lawsuits to frightened landowners, Brownsville resident Eloisa Tamez, 72, has one simple question. She would like to know why her land is being targeted for destruction by a border wall, while a nearby golf course and resort remain untouched.

Tamez, a nursing director at the University of Texas at Brownsville, is one of the last of the Spanish land grant heirs in Cameron County. Her ancestors once owned 12,000 acres. In the 1930s, the federal government took more than half of her inherited land, without paying a cent, to build flood levees.

Now Homeland Security wants to put an 18-foot steel and concrete wall through what remains.

While the border wall will go through her backyard and effectively destroy her home, it will stop at the edge of the River Bend Resort and golf course, a popular Winter Texan retreat two miles down the road. The wall starts up again on the other side of the resort.

“It has a golf course and all of the amenities,” Tamez says. “There are no plans to build a wall there. If the wall is so important for security, then why are we skipping parts?”

Along the border, preliminary plans for fencing seem to target landowners of modest means and cities and public institutions such as the University of Texas at Brownsville, which rely on the federal government to pay their bills.

The complete article can be seen at The Texas Observer.

Dada finds it astounding that Homeland Security and the Bush administration are willing to sacrifice the wealthiest and biggest contributors to American society while protecting us, the poorest. As the article further points out, less than 70 miles north of the Brownsville wall gap, another gap appears. It's at the 6,000 acre property development of Dallas billionaire Ray L. Hunt who recently donated $35 million to Southern Methodist University to build the George W. Bush presidential library.

Wouldn't you think the least Bush could do is see Hunt's Sharyland Plantation in the tiny border town of Granjeno, population 313, is afforded the same protection as the properties of us poor folks enjoys?

More dripping hypocrisy from our president.

President Bush spoke Wednesday from Ghana about Cuba on news of Fidel Castro's resignation.

Here then is Bush publicly slipping on his Freud. (Parentheses are my Freudian interpretations.)

"The international community should work with the Cuban (American) people to begin to build institutions that are necessary for democracy. And eventually this transition ought to lead to free and fair elections, and I mean free and I mean fair. (Here Bush was referring to the 2001 U.S. election.) Not these kind of staged elections that the Castro (Bush) brothers try to foist off as being true democracy."

Bomb's Away!

I was just reading an article about our aging air force; about how seven years of Bush-Cheney global domination policy has stretched air force equipment to the breaking point. I didn't finish the article. That's because my mind drifted.

I imagined myself as an Iraqi gathering with my family as another day winds down. Despite the failings of the dismal world outside, inside there are still moments for laughter and the sharing of stories from our day as our evening repast is prepared. But all of the stories and laughter are shattered when the last sound any of us hears is an American air force jet flying thousands of feet above us.

That was just a split second before the bomb hit. In the ensuing explosion that flattened our home killing my mother, two younger sisters, my father, an uncle and cousin named Ahmed and me, does it matter if the bomb that unexpectedly dropped in for dinner killing us all was released from an ancient B-52 or stressed B-1 bomber, an old F-15 or newer F-22 Raptor? I imagined not. Dead is dead.

But it matters to the U.S. air force. After all, if they're to continue doing their missions for the forever future in Iraq and Afghanistan, an extra $20 billion/year for the next five years should do nicely to remedy things, they say. Sadly, Bush's "smaller government" with ambitions for global dominance financed with insurmountable national debt may not be able to afford such luxuries says congress, leaving the entire future of the empire in doubt.

(NOTE: Dada is a former pre-teenager and recovering model airplane builder of sleek sub- and supersonic aircraft which he was especially fascinated with because of their ability to deliver inescapable death before victims knew what hit them. Much like today's U.S. Air Force, Dada enjoyed the dominance that comes with having the largest air force of any kid in his neighborhood. Sadly, my once mighty air force fell into decay as I grew up and my priorities evolved.)

President's Day, 2008. Today we take time to honor President Herbert Hoover

Seventy-five years ago last month, President Herbert Hoover, recognizing the uniqueness of the 275 square miles of pure gypsum comprising White Sands, New Mexico, declared the site a National Monument.

Note the road in darker area, lower right, which ventures into and among the gypsum dunes.

Today, Editor Sam, Mrs. Dada and I will take a drive up to the monument to commemorate President Hoover's decision to set aside this area for all to enjoy. Maybe we'll help sweep some of the shifting sands off the monument's roadways forever facing the threat of being covered over by sand dunes.

With temperatures predicted to be in the 60's, we look forward to a nice drive and maybe a few pictures. Happy holiday to all!

Whoops!

Notes from Whoopsie World:

An out of control secret U.S. satellite containing hydrazine gas, extremely toxic to humans as well as members of the animal kingdom, is due to crash to Earth in early March. 

Apparently out of much concern as to where it might come down, the U.S. military will attempt to shoot down its own satellite when a window to do so opens up beginning next week. If successful and the satellite is destroyed in space, the upper atmosphere will be seeded with the deadly hydrazine.

Let's hope for success. It seems only fair all of mankind should share in our increasingly deadly atmospheric follies. By seeding this poison in the upper reaches of the atmosphere rather than allowing it to enter and disperse in the lower, closer-to-home atmosphere, precious time will be bought by the Defense Department, i.e., we'll all be dead before our grandkids begin wondering why they're dying miserable deaths from hydrazine poisoning. 

Are there any misanthropes out there secretly wishing for a total screw-up that would get Homo sapiens off the face of the Earth as quickly as possible?   

*****

  Iraq contracts escape Bush's fraud crackdown.

(from an AP article by Lara Jakes Jordan, 2/13/2008)

"A Bush administration plan to crack down on contract fraud has a billion dollar loophole: the proposal to force companies to report abuse of taxpayer money will not be applicable to work overseas, including projects to secure and rebuild Iraq and Afghanistan."

(Note: "The Justice Department, which pushed for the self supporting requirement, called the overseas exemption a mistake that should be fixed before the plan becomes final," which is probably the very bottom item on the Bush list of priorities.)

*****

Squeezing a lemon for all it's worth?

In his eighth and final State of the Union message last month, president Bush once more sprinkled his speech generously with images of clean energy, touting his state-of-the-art $1.5 billion FutureGen coal burning industry flagship that would capture 90% of its own CO2 emissions and store them safely undergound somewhere in Illinois.

How wonderfully promising that sounded, what with America rich in filthy coal deposits. (Whoops, make that "filthy rich in coal deposits.") But that being Bush's last State of the Union where he would need to spout such bullshit to the public, high-tech FutureGen was scrapped shortly afterwards. Reason: cost overruns. 

The timely cancelation of FutureGen  just after, not before, Bush's last SOTU speech  was an unbelievable coincidence, wasn't it? But elimination of the project, saving taxpayers expensive cost overruns, will allow Bush to divert the savings of future overrun funds to fund overruns in Iraq where his fraud crackdown doesn't apply and the Bush administration is heavily invested in war profiteering reliant on unregulated cost overruns and fraud.

Happy Valentine's Day from the Texas Commission on "Environmental Quality"

Last Tuesday, in my blog Q: What's in a name? A: Sometimes a lot of shit! I wrote about the final hearing by the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality trying to decide whether or not to approve a permit allowing American Smelting and Refining Company to reopen it's copper smelter inside the city limits of El Paso. (It has been closed since 1999.)

The hearing went pretty much as I anticipated in Tuesday's blog. After a couple hours of charades that were video streamed live to El Paso from Austin, the TCEQ decided to approve the reopening of the smelter by a unanimous vote, 3-0. (To placate anti-ASARCO advocates present, one commissioner expressed reservations, but qualified them by saying, under Texas law, his hands were tied. It made all of us anti-ASARCO people feel a little better, I guess.)

Now I confess, one of my objections to the restarting of this foul industry dumping poisonous metals of lead, arsenic, cadmium and a host of other metals in unacceptable levels is the location of ASARCO's operation.

Note the blackened, dead Earth.

You see, ASARCO was established in its present location over a century ago on the outskirts of a small outback, western town. Today, however, El Paso has grown up and around ASARCO, absorbing it into the city's midst. The smelter is now just a mile north of the campus of the University of Texas, El Paso.

Anyone familiar with UTEP football in the 70's through the 90's knows their reputation for some of the worst collegiate football teams in the nation. Aligning almost perfectly with the state of Texas' reputation as the "Pay Toilet for Industry," it leads one to ponder if, aside from bad recruiting, UTEP's football program wasn't suffering from practicing/playing in a toxic metals laden cloud wreaking of sulfur? And maybe it's just coincidence that after the ASARCO smelting operation shut down in 1999, UTEP football improved dramatically, making a couple of post-season bowl appearances after the beginning of the new millenium?

Another mile or two north of ASARCO is a major shopping mall and downwind neighborhoods to its east have grown up all around the smelter in the past 100 years.

My objections to the reopening of this toxic industry are strictly unscientific and personal, unlike the State of Texas' loose "scientific" studies from this particular Texas Commission and it's even loser enforcement of those environmental standards. And yet, I am convinced my subjective objections bear some consideration, to wit:

• As a student of UTEP during the 70's, I walked between classes choking (no, no hyperbole here, I was often literally choking!) from the strong, strong taste of sulfur in my nose, mouth and throat. Every student attending university experienced this. Driving into El Paso late one Sunday Thanksgiving weekend night upon return from a California trip, I witnessed enormous discharges of noxious clouds raining from the 828 foot smokestack down upon Northwest El Paso while its residents slept.

• In the 1970's, the on site ASARCO "company town" had to relocate its employee residents and the community was bulldozed because it was so poisoned with lead from the smelter.

• In the 90's I learned of a wonderful university classmate who had resided on the blackened landscape of an ASARCO worker's neighborhood (see above picture), where her husband was employed as a company chemist, had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Connection? I don't know. Like I said, my ASARCO reactions are visceral rather than scientific.
  

• In the 90's, designated a Superfund clean-up site as a result of ASARCO's operations, the company began replacing the earthen yards of homes surrounding the University. (I assume because that was cheaper than moving them out and bulldozing their neighborhoods?)

• Etc. (In the new millenium, ASARCO started up once more it's replacement of soils around homes in the elite neighborhood above the University.)

An El Paso neighborhood under the cloud of toxic ASARCO?

And so this Valentine's Day, El Pasoans were given the gift by the state of Texas of a possible future of toxic fumes they've not experienced in almost nine years. It's just another part of the great American Dream to dread, yet take solace in knowing the state of Texas has again preserved it's reputation as "Pay Toilet of Industry" over the health concerns of its citizens!

Reminder: Be sure to wipe your feet!

Please note the seventeen senate democrats who sided with the minority party earlier this week by voting against their sworn oaths of office to uphold and defend the constitution of the United States by granting president Bush continued domestic surveillance powers and immunity to telecom companies abetting in his illegal activities.

The seventeen senate democrats in this Hall of Shame are as follows:

Baucus, Montana
Bayh, Indiana
Carper, Delaware
Casey, Pennsylvania
Conrad, N.D.
Inouye, Hawaii
Johnson, S.D.
Kohl, Wisconsin.
Landrieu, Louisiana
Lincoln, Arkansas
McCaskill, Missouri
Mikulski, Maryland
Nelson, Florida
Nelson, Nebraska
Pryor, Arkansas
Rockefeller, W.Virgina
Salazar, Colorado
Webb, Virginia
Whitehouse, Rhode Island

Misquoting senator Orrin Hatch of Utah after passage of the bill, “Stripping the bill of immunity for telecom companies would have been an unacceptable risk; a risk our country couldn’t afford to take,” Hatch said. “We can’t jeopardize the safety of our president, the vice president and the ass of every administration member and supporting members of the congress for conspiring to dismantle the Constitution."

"Failure to grant such immunity would fail to protect those guilty of seditious acts. Without immunity, fears of government conspiracy would be exposed as well as classified information designed to protect the guilty."

Thursday's McCain video

Anyone who's watched a fish jerked from its home waters and be "air-boarded" as it flips and flops over and over on a ship's deck, gasping for water, has to appreciate senator John McCain's efforts to speak out against waterboarding and to take the lead in congress as an advocate against torture but then flopping over and voting against a ban on waterboarding yesterday in the senate.

Fortunately, the senate's vote against this form of torture passed without senator McCain, 51-45.

I don't pretend to understand what's with McCain's flip-flopping. Maybe his presidency bid needs to appeal to those God fearing compassionate conservatives who seem to embrace the creation and spread of human misery whenever possible. Maybe McCain's five years of torture in captivity have screwed up his senses. Or perhaps senator McCain's motives are not anything that can be analyzed or comprehended, being McCain may just be plain fucking nuts.

Whatever the reason, I dedicate today's 81 second video to John McCain's apparent state of confusion.

Who the hell writes the titles for these internet stories?

Last evening I got very excited for just a minute. Booting up the computer, the first thing I saw was the AP headline saying, "US Compares 9/11 Trials to Nuremberg.

Remembering the Nuremberg Trials consisted of the prosecution of the prominent members of the WWII military and political leadership of Nazi Germany, I took the headline to mean someone in the United States had finally gotten the juevos to stand and put Bush, Cheney, Powell, Rice, Rumsfeld, Bremmer, General Miller and a host of other administration war criminals on trial. For just a second, images of sugar plum fairies and hangman's nooses through my mind.

Obviously, as I read the article I learned, the headline was misleading. It was referring to six Guantanamo detainees accused of participating in the 9/11 tacks. I guess I'll have to wait awhile longer for those other trials.

~~~~~

Dada addendum: Later in the evening I experienced a true synchronicity. I watched Bush celebrating Black History month on TV. In his brief speech, he mentioned the word "noose" five times. While presenting a noose in the context as historical symbol of physical and psychological suffering by African Americans, I couldn't help wonder if it's prominence in the president's remarks wasn't the result of his same misinterpretation of that AP article's title that may have triggered horrendous images to Bush of the Nuremberg war crimes trials, of war criminals and of the twelve found guilty and hung...from a noose?

As Bush said, "some Americans do not understand why the sight of a noose causes such a visceral reaction among so many people." I'm sure Bush does.

Wednesday's John McCain video

Today's presidential flashback

We do share values. And they're universal values, they're not American values or, you know - European values, they're universal values. And those values - uh -being universal, ought to be applied everywhere. ~ spoken by George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., February 13, 2005 (while bombing the shit out of Iraqi's universal values)

Q: What's in a name? A: Sometimes a lot of shit!

All aboard!

Today, groups of angry El Pasoans will venture down to the state's capital, Austin, for tomorrow's Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) decision that will directly affect the air all El Pasoans may be breathing in the near future.

TCEQ is one of those agencies former governor George Bush and his successor, governor Rick Perry, just love because the name implies concern for the public and its environment but whose decisions are often the exact antithesis of that, serving instead the interest of industry without a modicum of regard for public health or safety.

A prime example is the decision of another great named Texas agency, the Texas Natural Resource Conservation Commission. (Ooh, it just gives me the "willies" knowing these Texas agencies exist out of concern for me and my environment. )

Shortly after assuming office as governor, George W. Bush, in political payoff to large campaign contributors, began staffing (or should I say "stacking") that commission's board of directors. Bush's first appointment was Ralph Marquez, a 30 year employee of Monsanto and former consultant for Texas Industries and vice president of environmental affairs for industry's Texas Chemical Council. Two other Bush appointees were eventually made with the result wolves were now in charge of security for the hens in the chicken coup.

Hence, there was little surprise when the controversial approval of a cement company's furnace 30 miles southwest of Dallas which had been incinerating a 100,000 tons of hazardous wastes per year, including large volumes of it from gulf area refineries and chemical plants, was cleared to up the public's annual dosage to 270,000 tons. Texas' Natural Resource Conservation Commission determined no additional risks to people would result.

Another fine example of Bush/Perry environmentalism came from our public guardian, the Texas Water Commission, which in 23 just days - without public process, a chance to question, or environmental impact statement - gave its approval to a company named Merc to dump 250 tons of raw New York City sewage per week (!) on a 102,000+ acre "ranch" just three miles outside the small (poor) town of Sierra Blanca, Texas.

This was waste formerly dumped in the ocean by NYC until outlawed by congress. And in trying to find a new home for its toxic sludge, the state of Oklahoma listened to its citizens protests and rejected it as did Arizona after samples revealed it contained high levels of petroleum and infectious disease.

But Texas has gained a reputation as "A pay toilet for industry".* And while some other states may listen to their citizen's concerns or reject shit because of its high toxicity, in Texas, water, environmental and resource conservation commissions are total misnomers. Such commissions are "open for business." It's an operating procedure George W. Bush proudly took with him to Washington, slashing his way through agencies like Environment Protection, Food and Drug, the FCC, FTC, etc, staffing their leadership with industry cronies who give not a fuck for the public interest.

And so today, a band of determined, upset El Paso citizens trek to Austin. Denied a hearing by the TCEQ last week, they will travel to a city 500 miles distant, to visit an "environmental quality" commission that will decide if the air we may be breathing in the future (air the TCEQ and Austin won't be breathing) shall once more contain the lead and arsenic particle excrement passed from the stacks of Superfund polluter American Smelting and Refining Company with a permit allowing them to reopen copper refining operations within the city limits of El Paso that have been closed down since 1999.

I don't know why I have a bad feeling about the decision that will be rendered tomorrow. Maybe it's because of the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality leader's warning to El Pasoans about Wednesday's meeting. It will "be conducted just like any other agenda hearing of this commission, with respect and civility, and so I ask that you all prepare for that and remember that," reminded chairman Buddy Garcia.

I guess you have to say something like that when rendering what will likely be a very unpopular populace decision; to avoid an uprising and save your ass. That, plus Texas' well earned reputation for being "a pay toilet for industry."

* "Pay toilet for industry" as coined by Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility

*****

A John McCain video answer to Will.I.Am's
Barack Obama "Yes We Can" video

Tickling the fear factor (sigh) again!

"Barack and Hillary have made their intentions clear regarding Iraq and the war on terror. They would retreat and declare defeat. And the consequence of that would be devastating. It would mean attacks on America, launched from safe havens that make Afghanistan under the Taliban look like child’s play."

Mitt Romney ~ spoken during his presidential race drop-out speech last week, demonstrating a lapse in memory that the worse terrorist attack in American history took place under the reign of those now claiming to be the best able to protect us, i.e., conservatives like George Bush (who continued reading "My Pet Goat" with second graders 7 minutes after he was told of the second attack on the World Trade Center).

Romney then regained some prescience of mind predicting more attacks on America but miscredited Barrack and Hillary for that increased likelihood instead of attributing the tremendous growth and cultivation of appreciative terrorists to Bush and Cheney's own acts of torture and terrorism.

Today's definition: HSA

HSA: n., Health Savings Account:

1.) - a uniquely American idea for people with declining health insurance coverage and skyrocketing costs and deductibles, i.e., those Americans with insurance that does not reimburse for expenses incurred for health problems, a government program devised by the health insurance, banking and investment industries and enacted by representatives (with excellent health insurance benefits) that allows people to set aside a portion of their "disposable, discretionary income" to pay for health costs formerly covered by insurance companies.

2.) - politely stated, a government program for underinsured Americans to "go insure yourselves."

3.) - impolitely stated, a government program for underinsured Americans to "go fuck yourselves."

Sooner or later, we're all linked!

Being among others of far greater import than himself, Dada learned yesterday of the gratification
to be gained simply by "inclusion" or "recognition" than the more disparaging myth "size matters."

Anyone familiar with this blog knows one thing I've demonstrated erratically with much irregularity is the love I have for the state of New Mexico. Just six or seven miles south of its border, I never intended to land in Texas. Fortunately, escape is always within close proximity.

There are many things I love about New Mexico. Previous blogs have hinted of some of those things. But there are other things that amuse me. For example, were New Mexico to declare its independence, it would immediately become the world's third largest nuclear armed nation, landing it high on the U.S. list of axis-of-evil states I suppose. Or there's its most recent distinction. New Mexico can pride itself in being the last Super Tuesday state to report its primary outcome via caucuses. (Don't hold your breath, it still hasn't.)

Maybe it's fitting that the surprise I received yesterday should come from The Land of Enchantment. That's because I was honored when I learned the online version of a fiercely independent newspaper, The Grass Roots Press published in Las Cruces, New Mexico, included a link to Dada's Dally!

Describing Dada's as "defying description," I was truly honored. (I think.) But to be listed among the links of writers I have come to enjoy and look forward to reading is a little overwhelming. People like Carolyn Baker, author of her upcoming book, The Spirituality of Collapse: Restoring Life On A Dying Planet, or James Howard Kunstler, author of The Clusterfuck Nation Chronicle website. These are people whose dark views I appreciate for their sobering assessments. (I'm equating dark in this sense to "realistic," a sense desperately missing in reporting of today's state of things.)

To appear as a link alongside these analysts who dare to warn of what may lie ahead for all of us I feel very appreciative. It's a tack I share but shy from here on Dada's Dally lest I scare away my remaining six or seven regular readers.

So here's where I pay gratitude to the person responsible for wrapping me in this same package with the other, bigger, links he chose to highlight. That would be the publisher of The Grass Roots Press, Stephen Klinger.

Thanks, Steve! I like to think these are all links of pure pork, but I opted for the Fresh Turkey Sausage label for that foul that may linger among them. I encourage interested Dada readers to sample these links. They're made of real meat!

Astonishing coincidence?

It is now being reported a forth internet cable that serves mid-east communications and its link with Europe and North America has been damaged.

With the latest news of two additional cables serving Middle East communications, Earthfiles.com is reporting "geopolitical speculation is that cutting major undersea fiber optic communication cables is deliberate sabotage before some unknown upcoming event in the Middle East or elsewhere."

San Miguel, New Mexico or "On the Road With Dada Kuralt " (aka "The Honda Civic Diaries, part 37").

Note: The following blog is the result of two trips to San Miguel, New Mexico several months apart. The first took place last August. A small town just over the Texas border, San Miguel is one of those places I've passed through many times before on my way to someplace else. Last August, for the first time, it was my intended destination. It won't be my last.)

*****

Heading into New Mexico on Interstate 10, the fastest way to the slower life.

One morning after editor Sam and I had just finished publishing a blog for that day, we turned on the TV and sat down for our breakfast of Frito chips doused in pico de gallo. (Sam prefers a hard boiled egg and puppy kibble, having not yet outgrown his teenage appetite for junk food.)

As I flipped through the 240 channels with blind optimism we might find one worth watching, I stumbled across a public service announcement by the Department of Homeland Security. In it, an ominous voice asked children home alone, "Do you know what to do if you're parents are away when there's a terrorist attack?"

I was blown away at the effectiveness of this PSA. That's because it frightened me. I could only imagine its effect on kids. I'm pretty sure Homeland Security was proud of that one for accomplishing their intended purpose -- scaring the shit out of little children!

That's when I looked over at Sam and asked, "What say we take a little drive; get away from this bullshit for a few hours?" I suggested our destination -- San Miguel, New Mexico. Only thirty-two miles and fifty minutes away , I was surprised when Sam declined. I concluded that's because, to Sam, San Miguel is over 230 miles and nearly six hours drive in dog miles and time -- and that's just one way! He would miss his midday nap.

Earlier I'd seen a geologist on TV studying the dormant volcanoes of New Mexico. She said because of it's pyroclastic past, walking in many areas of New Mexico is about as close as you can get to walking on Mars. Perhaps that explains the attraction, i.e., that in less than a gallon of gas I can be in an other worldly place without leaving the Earth. (I'd only need to leave Texas, but that's something I've always enjoyed.)

Unlike all those times before when on the way to someplace else we simply passed through San Miguel, this day we stopped and learned this village is more than a short 25 mph speed zone in the road to Las Cruces.

The church at San Miguel, NM

Next time in San Miguel, I shall catch the name of this pretty little church a web search failed to provide. A local volcano that erupted several million years ago provided the basalt from which it is constructed or, as I like to think maybe, from the area's hail, fire and brimstone. There's something ironic about a place devoted to getting us to heaven built of material from the bowels of the Earth.

In search of Tortilla Flats

On our many trips past San Miguel over the years, one of the things that enchanted me were a small series of adobe apartments that hug the highway, which is also its main street. I would point to these crumbling structures with a romantic fervor telling Mrs. Dada, "Someday I'm going to live in one of those."

The crumbling adobe apartments of San Miguel, New Mexico

Those were really the words of me speaking as a teenager romanticizing the lives and times of John Steinbeck's paisanos from his novel Tortilla Flats. Characters like Danny, Pilon, Big Joe Portagee and the Pirate. As a kid, these societal misfits spoke to me as outsiders continually being tempted by the ideals and endless mantra of America's dream for them.

As much as Danny and his friends lusted after her, as much as their American siren seduced them, on those occasions when they succeeded in climbing upon her bed, the resulting greed and materialsim always brought disaster. They could never perform to her expectations! They were destined to dream, but never realize the satisfaction of their yearnings.

And so, as a paisano, this is where I would live. I would have no car for everything I needed was here or just across the street. No TV either because the better dramas of life play out just beyond my apartment door. Notions like that. This probably explains why Steinbeck rendered me, just out of college, impotent in the world of insurance underwriting as the 70's began.

And so, after years of rushing through San Miguel at the posted speed 0f 25 mph, I found myself suddenly walking its street!

Just half a block from my apartment is the local watering hole (or is it a dry well?)
Always remember when entering to step up and more importantly, when exiting
after several hours inside to step down. This to avoid fouling up and falling down.

Weekend afternoons would begin in the watering hole with my dipsomaniacal paisanos. There, several hours of jokes, arguments, and resolution of world problems across a sticky bar top of spilt beer would ensue.

As the fading light of a sinking sun is replaced by a subtle neon glow of Tecate signs emanating from the windows of the dance hall across the street, I would amble over to the Riverside for a night of entertainment and fun with the Steinbeck women like Dolores "Sweets" Ramirez or Mrs. "Butter Duck" Torrelli (as Mr. Torrelli busies himself in the back of the hall with local politics and deal making).

The Riverside Dance Hall of San Miguel where each weekend
night far better dramas unfold than anything on cable TV.

*****

What I really found in San Miguel

Dada, with camera drawn, shooting up "Main Street" in front
of his future home? (The tourist garb would definitely have to go.)

It was a weekday afternoon when Mrs. Dada and I visited San Miguel. It was very quiet. The street was empty. There were no signs of paisanos. The local bar was closed. It's permanent state? I like to think not.

A graffitied wall getting plastered over.

Mrs. Dada and I walked the street freely, shooting pictures and capturing San Miguel's soul. We saw a new "canvas" being prepared for a younger generation of upcoming graffiti artists, although there was absolutely no sign of anyone working here at that time.

One of the few people we saw was a small boy, about five years old. Emerging from this ochre building, he ran a half block down the street and disappeared into a complimentary colored purple storefront we were soon to learn was the "City Market ".

San Miguel's Art Department and Youth Center. Training ground for budding community muralists?

Emerging moments later, this small boy ran empty handed back to his Art Department and Youth Center building. As we continued to explore the heart of "downtown" San Miguel, this same boy reemerged some minutes later repeating his sprint for the City Market.

San Miguel's "City Market" shown here in purple. It's centrally located between
the "Art Department and Youth Center" and the "Riverside Dance Hall."

The boy again reappeared moments later, racing once more back to his youth center. This time I noted a bag of potato chips in his hand. As we later learned, his first trip was for a burrito, made fresh daily and sold in the market. But he had been too late. The burritos had sold out by lunchtime.

In Steinbeck's Tortilla Flats, the market was owned by Mr. Torelli who also sold bootlegged wine to the paisanos on the side. His wife, Senora Torelli, while her husband was away, sometimes bartered commodities for other than money, "despite Mr. Torrelli's efforts to keep her pure."

Being the only place which had betrayed the notion of San Miguel as a ghost town, I decided I must enter the City Market. I would buy a soda or maybe a candy bar.

The first thing I noticed before entering was a sign on the door warning visitors to "step down." This made sense, being as how the market is across the street from the bar where upon entering one must take care to "step up." Apparently San Miguel is built on a subtle slope.

San Miguel's "City Market" is like a pleasant violation of the space/time continuum. While
there was no Beeman's Pepsin chewing gum, the atmosphere is wonderfully "last century"
and the store absolutely immaculate, leaving one pangs of guilt at the thought of removing
a dust free, perfectly arranged shelved can of anything.

The only one present was the owner who was wiping down the already spotless cashier's counter in the back of the store. As Mrs. Dada and I browsed the store shelves, we learned while staring at an old photo on the wall it was Estella's, the owner's, father who had established the City Market back in 1925! Estella, who described herself as "a Mexican who hated chile," is a most pleasant person with a wealth of knowledge of the area's history.

Sadly we learned San Miguel, while appearing off the beaten path and removed from many of the encroachments of civilization, is feeling the pinch of progress. As Estella revealed, the big wholesalers don't make deliveries to City Market anymore. It would take a thousand little markets to move the same goods they can sell in one stop at a Wal-Mart. There just isn't enough money in it to make it any longer worth their while.

The spotless counter, neatly arranged market shelves.

As a result Estella closes down the store for a few hours some days to run to city suppliers to restock her shelves. Because of this, I got a hint of pessimism but Estella is undeterred. I know this, because hearing rumors after our visit her store was for sale, I returned in December to find out. Estella looked at me dumbfounded. "Absolutely not!" Not City Market, I learned to my relief.

We had a wonderful visit. We learned after her father's passing, Estella's brother had taken over the apartments -- "my apartment" -- across the street. But having been abused by tenants, they had fallen into neglect.

As we departed, Estella invited us back the following weekend for San Miguel's biggest annual celebration -- Labor Day. We thanked her and departed. We didn't make it back that next weekend. Sometimes it's difficult enough to make it back to the same place twice in one lifetime; twice in the same week absolutely impossible!

*****

Dada follow-up: We did return in December when I briefly spoke once more with Estella. After confirming the market is not for sale, I learned the annual pecan crop so important to the local economy was still on the trees, in danger of being severely damaged or lost due to lack of a hard freeze.

I asked if I might return again one day, visit, and learn more of San Miguel. To inquire if the bar across the street is still open. If the dance hall still swings on weekend nights. And, oh yeah, to learn if there's any vacancies in those apartments just across the street! Estella said "Yes!"

Saturday blather.

You know, this nation gets more laughable by the day. I thought I'd just mention a couple recent examples that have become the staple of American's diet, so accustomed have we become to eating it daily:

Chill Specter! Senator Arlen Specter wants to know why the New England Patriots destroyed those illegal spy tapes of their National Football League opponents. My advice to Arlen, "Forget it, it's just no big deal!"

You think maybe the New England Patriots are only following the protocol for such incriminations as have been established by our national leaders, be they the CIA and its torture tapes, the White House and those tens of thousands of destroyed e-mails on sensitive "security matters" Americans have no right to know about, or that grand congressional whitewash report on 9/11 in which no one was found to blame for the blackest day in American history?

And you're worried about a few destroyed Patriot's spy tapes? Lighten up. I say, "Good work, Pats!"

As goes the nation's health care, so goes the nation's health! Believe it or not, I did watch an interesting segment on CNN yesterday where a health care expert answered citizen's questions of concern.

The first was from a woman with a health problem that is nickel and diming her to death (I know, nickel and dime is archaic when it comes to parking meters, pay phones and health care). That's because the insurance her employer provides has a $5,000 deductible before it begins to kick in.

Her advice from the expert? Look for a new job with a lower deductible that accepts people with pre-existing conditions. If the deductible is still too high, she may need to procure additional insurance to supplement her primary coverage, the expert advised! (She can't afford what she has now!)

The second question was from a woman on Medicare who lives in a smaller town that has no doctor that will take Medicare patients because the government's reimbursements for such are too low. (NOTE: If Bush has his way, his latest budget will cut them even lower.)

The expert's advice to this woman was to consult some national registry that lists doctors willing to work for little or nothing by taking people on Medicare. In other words, say that woman lived in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. Using the registry she might find a doctor willing to see her and her Medicare coverage in Cheyenne, Wyoming. (Yeh, I know, that's in another state - just my example, but that's only 113 miles away and with the way things are going, certainly within the realm of possibilities.)

Meanwhile, as the little people are struggling to keep their heads above water, the pools are filling up swimmingly for the wealthy among us. Just know that while struggling with $3+/gallons of gas and growing energy bills to heat/cool our homes, the latest earnings report from Exxon Mobil was a record breaker. On sales of $404 billion, Exxon's net profit amounted to a mere $1,287 PER SECOND (!) for an annual take of $40.6 billion!

These are the highest profits recorded by any company in the history of planet Earth! You might think such a glowing result might be an indication of a nation prospering. But seriously, put in perspective, Exxon's earnings exceeded the gross national product of 120 countries, or in just every four seconds Exxon earned more than enough to pay one American's health care deductible of $5,000 annually.

Thanks for sacrificing at the pumps America!

Time for a change!

"The people can have anything they want. 

The trouble is, they do not want anything. 

At least they vote that way on election day." 

Eugene Debs

Change seems to be the key word of both party's candidates in this election year. While I don't expect anyone running to offer the significant changes needed to salvage this nation, I'm amused at the polls showing Arizona's senator McCain in a virtual tie with Hillary should he win the republican nomination. In other words, America's choices for "change" are so repugnant, I guess, that if Hillary is nominated it's a toss-up between her and four more years of more "republican" (and 100 more years of his wars!)

Sadly, we have been brainwashed to disdain anyone with the courage to open the flush valve and relieve the pressure on this nation before the pipes burst. Those people are out there, but we never hear about them. Sadly, when the pressure becomes too much, it's gonna blow and shit's gonna fly!

In the meantime, just think of these amusing stories of growing poverty and opulence as simply a redistribution of the wealth. One can never have enough now, can they?

***