A Monday Morning Walk Through Facebook

Well, well, it’s a Monday morning, and isn’t it time to walk through Facebook?

Bloggers get to do this, you see, or maybe we have to, since there are days when the news is so unremittingly bad that The New York Times and El Nuevo Día are merely siren songs for suicide (sorry for that alliteration—all this poetry stuff I’m doing must be rubbing off). So what can I tell you, or rather, in what new ways can I derich your—perhaps/ probably—difficult Monday morning.

Well, start off briskly with this:

Do I have to? Because—talk about a graphic being worth a thousand words—who needs to make that click? I know perfectly well what’s happening, I know perfectly well how I feel about fracking (essentially, frack that), and so why make myself crazy?

Does it get better? Of course not, because then we have to come to this:

Wonderful! Investigated that just enough to know that vegetarianism is out, too, since the storage tanks holding all that highly radioactive water? Do I have to tell you?

Move on to this:

Why isn’t Congress acting? Do you think I haven’t asked myself that question? Of course, and here’s the answer, if you really didn’t know: Congress is not acting because, for the last six years, a bunch of elderly white bigots ostensibly called Republicans have been in a frenzy of obstructionism. You see, the world changed—you see, they don’t. Oh, and guess what? Because here’s what’s next….

Devoted as I am to you, Dear Readers, who wake every day thirsting to read this blog, whose one reason is to wake…oh, skip it. I checked it out and yes, Thomas reasons that Congress can’t establish religions, but that doesn’t mean that a state can’t. So you Mormons out there in Utah? Feel free!

Well, the Supreme Court is taking a well-deserved rest, having busily fucked everything else up for the rest of us, who are going to have to get busy and do stuff like this:

 

Go to it guys!

At last, I have uncovered the reason for the deeply addictifying nature of Facebook, since the site puts you into such a state of catatonic rage—don’t know how they do that, but they got it figured out—that you then have to turn to stuff like this:

Well of course, of course, I had to spend seven minutes of Monday morning looking at the movie references to Wisconsin—you, Dear Reader, deserve nothing less—but having done that, please don’t waste your time. Somebody, after all, has to keep this world together.

But now, I’m saved by Montalvo, who arrives with the news that his poetry is driving him crazy, since he spent five years making the same mistake, namely writing lines of two words each. I’ve told him, the feeling of reading poem like this is just like bumping down the stairs on your rear-end. So it’s time for a challenge: write a poem of four four-line stanzas, with each line being at least eight syllables each. The first line is “Your memory is a silent ghost,” and you have half an hour to do it. Get to work.

Well, can I do that? I decide to try:

Your memory is a silent ghost

That still cries at night, when the wind,

Cold and unwanted, forces itself through the

Cracks of my empty heart, which even now

Has a ventricle for the eyes that saw no one but me,

Before they misted, clouded, became watery, then pus-filled

And at last, all desire lost, refused to see.

A ventricle to, for the voice, which once was only

Laughter, then turned to song, and then

Hardened slightly, turned as somber as mute swans

In a chill Autumn pond, until your voice, as they, fell silent.

I fled, then, to the other chambers of my heart, places

You were little likely to go, places I might have shown

You, but did not.  I slammed the valves shut, cemented them

With hurt, grief, the usual glues of a deadened love.

I waited, alone, in a dusty corner, and listened—

Thump-thump, thump-thump; you knocking insistently

For a while, but each day more silently, weaker, until at last,

Tired of a call never answered, you left, and it was silence

At last.

Scrambling to Keep Up

“I can be the president of the United States or I can control Alice, but I cannot possibly do both,” famously said Teddy Roosevelt about his hellion daughter. And every father in America knew just what he meant.

And that’s the way I feel about Wisconsin governor Scott Walker. Consider—I emailed myself an article my friend Gary posted on Facebook; here’s the headline: 
    

Wisconsin Prepares to Hand Half-Million in Taxpayer Funds to Koch-Tied GOP Lobby Shop

OK—that was something I had to check out. But it was late, my brain was tired; I sent it off to my inbox to be dealt with in the morning. Well, it’s 11:50, and where have I spent the morning? Right up there in Wisconsin—virtually—looking at, among other things, a map of frac sand mines and production centers.

Sorry, I couldn’t copy / paste the map, but here’s the link.

In Iguanas, I reported that South Western Wisconsin is known as the Drift-less Area, so called because the glaciers never rolled into the area. So it’s hillier, and there are curious rocks, the Niagara dolomite limestone, or some such thing. And that’s precisely the area where there were a few sand mines, because Wisconsin is one of the few, or at least one of the richest, places to produce this:

OK—that’s frac sand, or “silica sand: smooth, round grains of almost pure quartz that can be found in lower Wisconsin’s sandstone bluffs.”

A couple years ago, Wisconsin had fewer than ten sand mines; today, it has over one hundred. And here’s what they look like:

And what’s the big deal with frac sand? Well, it’s the only sand you can use for fracking, a process which involves drilling extremely deep vertically, then drilling horizontally several lines, and then forcing a water mixed with frac sand at extremely high pressure. The water / sand mixture fractures (hence the name, get it?) the shale and natural gas is released.

Those fussy environmentalists, of course, have various quibbles. The process requires enormous amounts of water, and thus lowers the water tables, and makes irrigation all the more difficult. Oh, and it also produces some really gunky byproducts—water and sand and a lot of toxic petrochemicals. And where do you put that? Into the river? Dump it on the ground, or in ponds?

Never mind—says the industry. It produces natural gas, and that’s a clean fuel, and don’t we want to be energy independent?

OK—to get at all this sand, the Koch brothers, owners of Koch Industries (a huge petrochemical concern), had to run up to Wisconsin and find someone they could work with. And they certainly did—Scott Walker, who promised to relax Wisconsin’s fussy environmental regulations. How fussy were they? Quite a bit like Minnesota’s, which also has the frac sand deposits. And how many mines / processing plants does Minnesota have today? A handful.

Which tells you how effectively Walker made a “business-friendly” environment in Wisconsin.

So what’s the problem, you say. We create all this sand, ship it off to North Dakota or Texas. That’s their problem, right?

Well, beyond being just a bit callous…no.

“It was clanging railroad cars at night, underground blasting that put cracks in the walls of peoples’ kitchens,” she said. “I had emails that said, ‘I don’t know what they’re doing, but there’s sand all over the inside of my house.’” 

That’s what Kathleen Vinehout, a Wisconsin state senator, said.

Right—sand all over your house is an annoyance. But what about sand in your lungs?

These particles are associated with an increased risk of a battery of illnesses that Crispin Pierce, a professor of environmental public health at the University of Wisconsin–Eau Claire, ticked off for me: “Silicosis, bronchitis, tuberculosis, chronic pulmonary diseases—it’s a really nasty, toxic substance.”

Well, there are emission standards for each mine—but they measure the emissions from one mine only. And what happens when there are three mines, one processing plant, and trucks filled with the stuff—all in one area? Sadly, because this industry is so new—no one knows. So we’ll find out in a generation or so, when Wisconsinites all start wheezing (in the Drift-less Area, of course).

(Added value to Wisconsinites in that area—definitely consider taking up smoking, because guess what? Your lungs are fucked, anyway….)

Oh, and there are social costs, too. The mining companies are coming along waving huge checks at people who will either sell or lease their land. Here’s one account:

She was offered more than $100,000 from the mining company EOG Resources Inc. to move but declined, citing high moving costs and a connection with the area. Since then, she said, her home value has dropped by about half, to around $60,000. The mine provides subsidies for lower property values, but Sonnentag said her property is too far away to qualify.

What happened? Reading further on in the story, it’s clear. She said “no,” her neighbor said “yes.” So she saw the value of her property fall, due to the mine, which was too far away to qualify for the mine subsidy program.

From the same story:

As the mines have been built, a chasm between some neighbors has widened.

"Why should I have to move because my neighbor wants to be selfish?" said Sonnentag. "If I had trouble, I always used to know I could count on my neighbors.

"Not anymore. Now, it's the sand people versus the anti-sand people."

Remember how I was going to tell you about the half million the State is going to give a Koch brother lobbying group?

And remember Teddy Roosevelt and his daughter—Alice ?

See what I mean?