Showing posts with label Politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Politics. Show all posts

Sunday, January 18, 2026

Eutrapelian LandMinds: Letters to the Editor on the Matter of the Proposed Nora Mega-Dairy

 


Eutrapelian LandMinds




LTEs on the Matter of the Mega-Dairy


Ag-Ignorance Ain't Bliss

The late Philip Rieff has noted "[t]hat the propertied classes, their lawyers and editorial writers, are self-interested, which is not the same as conservative." Similarly, there is seldom anything remotely conservative about anything labeling itself "traditional." This is particularly the case when it comes to "Traditions Investments, LLC."; i.e.,  the actual name for the proposed mega-dairy deemed viable by Judge Ward.

Despite whatever images that readily come to mind regarding "the countryside," acres of manure-filled lagoons and warehouses filled with large mammals could hardly be thought of as bucolic. Yet this is the imagery the livestock industry trades in and feed its "ag-ignorant" audiences. Or if red barns and happy cows grazing in green pastures doesn't cut it, the high-tech showcases are offered, highlighting the advances industrial agriculture has made--dutifully ignoring the growing safety and health concerns that seem to be part and parcel of ever-larger operations.

Worse, perhaps, is how so many local civic and business leaders--often one and the same!--sign off on permitting such obvious detriments to their communities. Clandestine investors? Ego enhancements? Short-term gain for long-term pain? Rieff has also commented that our culture is "constituted by its endless transitionality" and our leaders "have learned to want it that way."

Unfortunately, even Warren and Nora's self-styled elites, perhaps Mr. Bos's "strangest of bedfellows," will have nowhere to run when their neighbor's limited liability enterprise "transitions" their little utopian dreams of progress and profit into dystopian twin nightmares of aquifer contamination and even worse rural blight.

(Originally published in The Galena Gazette, 1/13/2010)



I believe it may have been Mr. Benjamin who once said that our new nation was "a republic" if we "could keep it." If nothing else, the megadairy controversy has demonstrated that the hold the American people have on their republic is tenuous indeed. How else can one explain the replacement of politics by legal action, and politicians by lawyers? By allowing our local and state government officials to abdicate responsibility for issues related to the health and welfare of their constituents, we let them off easy. Any good bureaucrat is only too happy to relinquish authority over any matter that might mean eventual consequence; that doesn't mean we should permit them that luxury. Judges are not legislators; a team of lawyers do not a public make. Retaining our republic will  require fewer lawyers, less bureaucracy, and a citizenry more concerned with the "whys" and "hows" of politics than the "whos" and "whats." Foes of the mega-dairy had no real allies in either political party. One seemed intent on abusing them, the other content with using them. Lessons need to be learned in a hurry and efforts recalibrated to focus on a state-wide ban on any future factory farms and to seek the means by which local control is fully restored.

(Originally published in THE ROCK RIVER TIMES, 6/24/08)



Big Developers Forcing Out Local Owners

There is no denying that the civic leaders of the towns of Nora, Warren and Stockton have let their constituents down. The respective village councils and mayors must be regarded as either guilty of complicity or blind acquiescence, given their deafening silence on the potential disaster that the mega-dairy and future factory farms portend to unleash. One would think that even the most remote possibility of ground water contamination would elicit some response. Instead, it would appear that the heavy-hitters lurking behind developments like the Bos dairy--organizations like the "Blackhawk Hills Resource Conversation and Development"--have greased enough local palms and pulled enough local strings to nurture and sustain the learned helplessness and resignation of area residents.

As land values continue their vertiginous rise here, one must wonder if future land ownership will be restricted to the likes of "ordinary farmers" such as Mr. Bos, and "local folks" of the Eagle Ridge variety. Current trends suggest that true family farms will be forced to sell out, while the remaining towns become post-colonial, "quasi-colonies," parasitic partners of whatever "boon" the likes of Blackwater Hills sees fit to bestow on them.

(Originally published in THE ROCK RIVER TIMES, 10/22-28/08)


Mega-Dairy Boycott Letter

Last checked, America was still a free country, and we all are yet able to choose to support whatever political or economic endeavors we please. As a business, you have chosen to support Traditions Dairy. My family and I are in opposition, for all of the health and welfare issues that we are all familiar with by now. As you have chosen to support Mr. Bos's dubious business efforts, we so choose to not support yours, and we will also encourage others to refrain from spending their hard-earned dollars in your establishments as well.

We realize that you will hardly feel the impact of the loss of our purchases at this time or perhaps even in the near future; regardless, we believe it important to remind business owners that they do not function in a vacuum, and do indeed have a civic responsibility as well as an economic one to and for the communities that they are an important part of. By putting profit before people, we believe that you put the very community that you economically benefit from in jeopardy. Nothing could be less dime-wise and more penny-foolish.
 
As Wendell Berry has remarked, "To have everything but money is to have a lot." There is much wisdom in Berry's words; and on the remote chance that you might one day see their merits, here's my contact information. Give me a holler. Until then, though, my dollars and those of hopefully many others will be spent elsewhere. 

(Distributed to various owners of local businesses who had publicly shown support for the Bos megadairy, one of whom attempted to get me fired from my job at the Journal-Standard.)

Toxic Subsidies


The irony of our area's farmers belittling the regulatory efforts of the federal government needn't be lost on any of us. After all, these same farmers are generally this county's greatest beneficiaries of corporate welfare in the form of crop subsidy allotments. If the meager requirements of government oversight and crop mandates are proving to be too much, foregoing said subsidies is always an option. Doing so would of course leave one at the mercy of the market, just like the in-town neighbor struggling to make this month's mortgage payment. But any self-respecting member of Jim Sacia's Republican Party wouldn't want it any other way....

(Published in The Rockford Register-Star and elsewhere.)




Thursday, July 17, 2025

CHASING NATURE: Floods and Smoke: The world we now share with children in Florida and Texas By Bryan Pfeiffer

 

CHASING NATURE

Floods and Smoke

The world we now share with children in Florida and Texas

Bryan Pfeiffer



THE first of three floods laid waste to my city. From my canoe on Montpelier’s downtown streets, I could see that nearly every business, our fire station, our library, and city hall offices were wrecked. The Great (Terrible) Vermont Flood of 2023 happened that year on July 10.


Next came the flood of 2024. Although Montpelier escaped with relatively minor damage, floodwaters elsewhere across Vermont destroyed roads, bridges, and homes, and killed at least two people. The flood that year also happened on July 10.


And then came the flooding of 2025. It flipped cars, tore apart highways, uprooted homes, and turned mud into a menace across the northeastern corner of my state. That one happened a week ago, on July 10.


In the wake of that first flood, I published an essay titled “Our New High-Water Mark.” Little did I know at the time that the new normal would become so normal—not only here in Vermont, where we once had the illusion that our state was relatively immune to global warming, but in too many other places as well, most recently in New York and most tragically in Texas.


Soon after that initial flood, as Vermonters were still grieving, still mucking out basements, still uncertain about the future, I received a hand-written letter from a 13-year-old girl living in Tarpon Springs, Florida. (Because we haven’t yet communicated about this essay, I’ll give her the pseudonym Amelia.) She’d been reading my essays on nature and admiring my photography in between her volleyball camp and other summertime activities.


“I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate the hard work and time you put into nature and photography,” she wrote (most likely before the flood had hit my city that year). “It has really fueled me to continue loving science and everything living. Thank you so much.”


Amelia included with her letter a sketch she’d made of a Hermit Thrush, the Vermont state bird. (“I hope the pencil doesn’t smear when I fold it!” she wrote. “It’s not the best, but I tried my best.”)


At which point I set Amelia's letter and sketch on my desk ... and wept. As a human, as a writer, as a seeker of hope, I needed absolutely nothing more from the world that day. In my reply, which no doubt failed to convey the depth of my gratitude, I thanked Amelia for her drawing and kind words, and I welcomed and encouraged her love for science and nature. (She’s particularly fond of ducks.)


But it turned out that Amelia and I would have more in common than our bond with the natural world. Soon after our exchange of letters, Hurricane Idalia made landfall along the Big Bend area of Florida. Fueled and intensified by record-high sea-surface temperatures in the Gulf of Mexico that year, Idalia’s storm surge flooded Amelia’s community of Tarpon Springs.


Watching news accounts of the city’s streets as rivers, of people stranded, of vehicles submerged, I re-experienced some of the trauma of my own city’s flooding only a few weeks earlier. I wondered about the fate of Amelia’s home, about her sketches, about how water can be so hospitable to the ducks we both admire and yet so devastating to our communities—whether we live at sea level or in a mountainous state.


Vermont and Florida have little in common by way of terrain, culture, and politics. The same goes for Vermont and Texas, where the terrible flood of July 4 took the lives of at least 27 girls playing, singing, praying, and enjoying nature at a summer camp along the Guadalupe River, a tragedy of unfathomable pain and heartbreak.


Unlike most voting Texans, we’re no fans of President Trump here in Vermont—not even our Republican governor voted for him. Still, no matter where we live, no matter our politics, all of us draw our breaths from the same atmosphere—now warmer, now carrying more moisture, and now posing greater risks of deadly storms and floods.


As I write from home in Vermont, the air I breathe also carries soot from wild fires burning across central Canada and often fueled by the warming climate. It’s not unlike the polluted air inhaled by Texans living downwind of fossil fuel processing plants along the Gulf coast.


We’re burning our way toward pain and loss. I can practically set my calendar to it: July 10. If only we had a president who didn’t deny the cause. He may be clueless or corrupt or indifferent or greedy or all of the above in his denial—I have no idea. But it’s hard to ignore a house carried away in floodwaters, a community burned out of existence, or the new waves of heat causing suffering and death around the world.


Those of us not in denial seek our ways forward. For me, it's living smaller, ever closer to nature, writing for you here, and finding my inspiration and guidance from scientists, activists, and other writers who help me find my footing on a planet heated and transformed.


It’s a planet we’re leaving to Amelia and to countless other children who should be outside playing and enjoying nature this summer without the threats of floods and fires. There will always be tragedy, not the least of which is war—always a crime against children. If only the perils didn’t come as well from something as essential to our lives as air and water.


If you haven’t yet been inspired or in a position to help out, paying subscribers keep me writing and keep Chasing Nature published for everyone. Thanks.

Monday, March 10, 2025

"Tomorrow, You're Homeless. Tonight, It's a Blast!"

 

“Tomorrow, You’re Homeless. Tonight, It’s a Blast!”

John Jankowski
1 min read

Trump and the non-ideological wing of the protesters have at least one thing in common: a lack of faith. And that lack of faith drives them to create their own particular and specific idea of utopia or heaven here on earth.

Trump has obtained his (wealth and power) by way of corruption, and aims to keep it — by any means necessary. Same for his most powerful and wealthiest of supporters.

Rioters have neither the means nor the same ends as the filthy rich; but their demands for “a better future” are as real and as essential as Trump’s grip on wealth and power. Trump’s Bible-debasing and hate speech are signifiers of his true and only heaven on earth. Violence and outrage are those of the weak, whose heaven may only amount to the desire for a few crumbs from the rich man’s table. Rioting renders the formerly invisible, visible. The weak, powerful.

As Malcolm X once quipped regarding violence during the previous Civil Rights Era, “The chickens have come home to roost.” They most certainly have. And Trump is no farmer.


Riot

Song by Dead Kennedys ‧ 1982

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: D.H. Peligro / East Bay Ray / Jello Biafra / Klaus Flouride

Riot lyrics © Kobalt Music

Rioting, the unbeatable high

Adrenalin shoots your nerves to the sky

Everyone knows this town is gonna blow

And it's all

Gonna blow right now

Now you can smash all the windows that you want

All you really need are some friends and a rock

Throwing a brick never felt so damn good

Smash more glass

Scream with a laugh

And wallow with the crowds, watch them kicking peoples' ass

But you get to the place

Where the real slave-drivers live

It's walled off by the riot squad aiming guns right at your head

So you turn right around

And play right into their hands

And set your own neighborhood

Burning to the ground instead

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Riot, the unbeatable high

Riot, shoots your nerves to the sky

Riot, playing right into their hands

Tomorrow you're homeless, tonight it's a blast

Get your kicks in quick

They're callin' the National Guard

Now could be your only chance to torch a police car

Climb the roof, kick the siren in and jump and yelp for joy

Quickly, dive back in the crowd, slip away, now don't get caught

Let's loot the spiffy hi-fi store, grab as much as you can hold

Pray your full arms don't fall off, here comes the owner with a gun

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Riot, the unbeatable high

Riot, shoots your nerves to the sky

Riot, playing right into their hands

Tomorrow you're homeless, tonight it's a blast

Yee-ah!

Yee-ah!

Yee-ah!

Yee-ah!

Yee-ah!

Shit!

The barricades spring up from nowhere

Cops in helmets line the lines

Shotguns prod into your bellies

The trigger fingers want an excuse

Now!

The raging mob has lost its nerve

There's more of us but who goes first?

No one dares to cross the line

The cops know that they've won

It's all over but not quite, the pigs have just begun to fight

They club your heads, kick your teeth

Police can riot all that they please

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha

Ah, ha-ha, yeah!

Riot, the unbeatable high

Riot, shoots your nerves to the sky

Riot, playing right into their hands

Tomorrow you're homeless, tonight it's a blast

Riot, the unbeatable high

Riot, shoots your nerves to the sky

Riot, playing right into their hands

Tomorrow you're homeless

Tonight it's a blast

Tomorrow you're homeless

Tonight it's a blast

Tomorrow you're homeless

Tonight it's a blast

Tomorrow you're homeless

Tonight it's a blast

Tomorrow you're homeless

Tonight it's a blast

Tomorrow you're homeless

Tonight it's a blast

Tomorrow you're homeless

Tonight it's a blast

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O69MTDdhHDk




Tuesday, February 18, 2025

Down with the People


Down with the People

John Jankowski
4 min read

Eutrapelian LandMinds: Letters to the Editors of Local Papers Regarding Local Issues and Current Affairs

    Eutrapelian LandMinds Warren Wind Farm: The Fix Is In In his book, The Careless Society , John McKnight has written that "revolutio...