who ain't crappin' themselves at the sight of hosni mubarak gettin' tanked in Tora prison and potentially facing, of all things, a trial in egypt? i figured he'd be on fox news in no time, a middle east expert of the kind fox news likes: authoritarian. whew, missed that one.
is this a feint? real? who knows these days, but if it happens, well, one must conclude that hosni mubarak is seriously, if only recently, unliked by the global elite, which usually manages to cobble together some sort of luxury decampment for those so deposed. even lefty elites get to hang out in some nice digs in zuid africa when the shit hits. so what the hell did hosni do to piss off the world so badly that he is about to face trial for murder and corruption in his own country? couldn't get his ass into switzerland? given that much of the murder and corruption has been conducted under the auspices of us government aid and approval, what has ol' hosni done to warrant such unprotection from the junta in egypt? poor hosni. defenestrated from the Burj Dubai cocktail party.
was it the seventy billion? what? too much?
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
hue and cia cry
For the second time in five months, the Pakistani authorities have angered the Central Intelligence Agency by tipping the Pakistani news media to the identity of the C.I.A. station chief in Islamabad, a deliberate effort to complicate the work of the American spy agency in the aftermath of the raid that killed Osama bin Laden, American officials said.
New York Times, 09.05.2011.
The US and Pakistan struck a secret deal almost a decade ago permitting a US operation against Osama bin Laden on Pakistani soil similar to last week's raid that killed the al-Qaida leaderthat looks outside the bounds of "hue and cry," don't it? stuffin' the chief 'n all. but those little back-to-backers might also suggest that this so-called leak is the station chief wanting out and "using it." can hear 'im almost: just get me the fuck outta this hellhole! leak me! leak me!
"There was an agreement between Bush and Musharraf that if we knew where Osama was, we were going to come and get him," said a former senior US official with knowledge of counterterrorism operations. "The Pakistanis would put up a hue and cry, but they wouldn't stop us."
Guardian, 09.05.2011
something like that. can't imagine anyone really diggin' it there. except the criminally insane. which goes a long way in explaining why the us military is trying to quell an insurgency against their own military invasion, and wondering why those damned natives just don't like us.
so we got the paks dumpin' the id of islamabad's oga chief, who, if in any way rational, probably wants out of afpak nuthouse. hence, the leak. and the whole affair looks like a serious rift. a hue and a cry.
is the leak of the cia station chief in Islamabad a hue, or a cry? i'm thinkin' cry.
definitely a cry.
Friday, May 6, 2011
professional magnificence
what a fukkin phrase that is. say that out loud, with a hearty Gilbert and Sullivan gusto . that awesome phrase was horked up by NCTC head James Clapper in praising the bin laden hit.
"never have I seen a more remarkable example of focused integration, seamless collaboration and sheer professional magnificence."can't be hatin' professional magnificence, can we? it sounds so good.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
nailed it
“Wiping out Bin Laden has been almost 10 years in the making, so it’s really significant,” Ms. Bottum, a retired university professor, said. “I’m convinced he’s nailed the next election.”electoral success in america. revenge killing; ordering a stealth lethal head shot for a baddie. the bigger the baddie, the better. more often than not, the baddies were once buddies in one bygone covert era or another.
damn, is it that easy now? just storm some foreign land, shoot a coupla publicized pricks, and it's all yours? announce the lawless revenge killing to the american public, who sickeningly oblige noblesse lawlessness with raucous chorus in the streets, hopped up on blood feud revenge. well, as a campaign strategy, it has its up sides, like a "raucous chorus in the streets, hopped up on blood feud revenge." and there are a lot of baddies around. baddies the us gov says are baddies anyway. the ones that count. obama could just start the baddie assassination march to overwhelming electoral success! like fdr. there'd be a movement to repeal the twenty-second amendment, obama's killing spree would be so popular: the march against the baddies! like against hitler, only badder.
the burp is from the nyt sump pump, smearing ink about obama's post double tap "bump." it's both a great great victory and the most morbid of reasons to stay vigilant in this persistent war on terror. killed the terror leader, they say, and this is a grand thing, but the terror will remain and may even get worse. revenge, they say. by those crazy muslims.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
spanning na doden bin laden
that was the headline on het parool today. thought it had a nice ring. and it's dutch, ferfuksakes. blie dat? were one to catalogue the sonic qualities of the dutch language, "nice ring" would not likely abide. pearl in a gritty oyster.
anyway, big front page pic, you've seen it, with all the goombahs hunkered down in the situation room. man. pathetic. that's the world's superpower's situfukkinwaytion room. fuck dudes, take a pointer or two from golf ball blitzer -- give it some zing! get some csi lookin' shit in there, zaz it up. good grief, this is just sad. ya'll look like a buncha bobos humped around someone's suburbanite coffee table, grimacing through an online poker tourney. but the secret kind, that only the white house gets to play now. think it's outta russia.
what a sight, ain't it? the grand poobahs layin' out the hit, and watching it play out in real time. we all get to revel in ex post exposition of glorious vengeful illegal murder by those precise killing machines so wonderfully and lethally trained under the auspices of american taxpayers. that america has military kill squads operating in far far away lands, secretly roaming and killing, under no writ but by the hand of obama, is now openly celebrated as a good and great thing, this lawless murdering. damn, they's efficient killing machines, ain't they? teevee americans marvel. it's such a great thing we have, these international know no law kill squads. and so the corporate media launches a full warp press release on the hollywood details (count on it!) of the courageous bold strike by an american assassination team "secretly" operating in pakistan to take out bin laden. think i've seen five different ways he was shot. media horndoggin' this one. now, the white house is pondering whether to release photos of the hit, because, of course, the natural conspiracy theories arise in the wake of bizarre behaviour.
shall we release the photographs of our most recent and surely most glorious and well publicized assassination? a beautiful dilemma for the assassination bureau. offend or forfend. such a difficult choice in the age of the kill squad cult.
way back when kids had a hopeful future, like most kids then, we all figured we'd be zoomin' around in flying cars by now, zip-zppin' around in the air. what a hoot! we'd have awesome giant ring cities in orbit, would excavate the moon. couldn't wait for that future. didn't quite go that way though, did it? the world, that is, and what the world chose to do. what we got, instead, is "persistent conflict," stealth bombers, killer satellites, flying death bots, stealth flying death bots, remote control DARPA moths, and globally available whisper tip kill squads. what we also now have is digital high-definition satellite teevee and the DARPA internet for viewing ghastly images of the imperial footprint, the dead, the dying, the murdered, and football in the comfort of the modern plasma screen living room. mostly football though. if recent images brought thusly indicate anything, americans loves them a righteous killin'. jump for joy at the killin'. much as they would for football. decades of psychotherapy have brought them, finally, to know that revenge killing is actually a much softer, warmer thing: closure. hear that a lot lately. justifying the myriad sins of empire, kill squad death dealing is therapy.
not exactly flying cars.
anyway, big front page pic, you've seen it, with all the goombahs hunkered down in the situation room. man. pathetic. that's the world's superpower's situfukkinwaytion room. fuck dudes, take a pointer or two from golf ball blitzer -- give it some zing! get some csi lookin' shit in there, zaz it up. good grief, this is just sad. ya'll look like a buncha bobos humped around someone's suburbanite coffee table, grimacing through an online poker tourney. but the secret kind, that only the white house gets to play now. think it's outta russia.
what a sight, ain't it? the grand poobahs layin' out the hit, and watching it play out in real time. we all get to revel in ex post exposition of glorious vengeful illegal murder by those precise killing machines so wonderfully and lethally trained under the auspices of american taxpayers. that america has military kill squads operating in far far away lands, secretly roaming and killing, under no writ but by the hand of obama, is now openly celebrated as a good and great thing, this lawless murdering. damn, they's efficient killing machines, ain't they? teevee americans marvel. it's such a great thing we have, these international know no law kill squads. and so the corporate media launches a full warp press release on the hollywood details (count on it!) of the courageous bold strike by an american assassination team "secretly" operating in pakistan to take out bin laden. think i've seen five different ways he was shot. media horndoggin' this one. now, the white house is pondering whether to release photos of the hit, because, of course, the natural conspiracy theories arise in the wake of bizarre behaviour.
shall we release the photographs of our most recent and surely most glorious and well publicized assassination? a beautiful dilemma for the assassination bureau. offend or forfend. such a difficult choice in the age of the kill squad cult.
way back when kids had a hopeful future, like most kids then, we all figured we'd be zoomin' around in flying cars by now, zip-zppin' around in the air. what a hoot! we'd have awesome giant ring cities in orbit, would excavate the moon. couldn't wait for that future. didn't quite go that way though, did it? the world, that is, and what the world chose to do. what we got, instead, is "persistent conflict," stealth bombers, killer satellites, flying death bots, stealth flying death bots, remote control DARPA moths, and globally available whisper tip kill squads. what we also now have is digital high-definition satellite teevee and the DARPA internet for viewing ghastly images of the imperial footprint, the dead, the dying, the murdered, and football in the comfort of the modern plasma screen living room. mostly football though. if recent images brought thusly indicate anything, americans loves them a righteous killin'. jump for joy at the killin'. much as they would for football. decades of psychotherapy have brought them, finally, to know that revenge killing is actually a much softer, warmer thing: closure. hear that a lot lately. justifying the myriad sins of empire, kill squad death dealing is therapy.
not exactly flying cars.
Monday, May 2, 2011
imaginary aurelius
that ambinder, he's such a war whore. adorable. just revels in the deep n' dirty low down jsoc shit. a pig in it, really. you can read it, taste it, live his kill cult thrill, wafting off the page like a militarized florient mist, masking the ghastly horror gwot cow pie. "double tap" to osama's head, marc militarily relates. oh, sorry, that was, "to the left side of the face," as marc unnecessarily but orgiastically details. damn, those jsoc dudes make marc horny. to the fukkin face osama! pap pap. how's that?
double tap to the face. ouch. seems non-standard for head shots, no? not exactly a brain drainer. to the face, that is. hard to identify easily, though. dump a sorry face shot carcass into the sea as quick as possible, because the us just gotta make sure that face-shot osama gets dumped into the sea, eh ess eh pee. respectin' those islamic trads n' what not. that's big on the war agenda.
marc ambinder. note the "c."
double tap to the face. ouch. seems non-standard for head shots, no? not exactly a brain drainer. to the face, that is. hard to identify easily, though. dump a sorry face shot carcass into the sea as quick as possible, because the us just gotta make sure that face-shot osama gets dumped into the sea, eh ess eh pee. respectin' those islamic trads n' what not. that's big on the war agenda.
marc ambinder. note the "c."
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
libyan mystery tour
man o man is it ever easy to get a fukkin war goin' these days. no congress. no real enemy, no nuthin', just fuckin' go. the un practically demands it. an easy bake oven: pop a few ingredients in there, turn some diplomatic knobs up a couple notches, and poof, in a matter of minutes, out pops a hot yummy war. hell, all ya really got to do is start off with some half-assed, quarter-assed, humanitarian intervention disaster in the waiting, which are all over the freakin' place. pretty much guarantees full entry for the war machine these days. think of it as america's jobs program for the twenty first century.
trusty battleship USS Grey Lady is steaming out of port, spewing a fit to print black cloud of war smoke, calling nato a joke and let's please stop pretending. and stop fukkin around obama. do it. you know you want to. laws, rules be damned. of course, since we're in anyway, if we leave, why that maniac gadaffi will unleash a slaughter upon the land. definitely cannot have that. we've spent a lot of time convincing everyone that gadaffi is a murderous nutjob. we. are. in. go big.
never can figure out if obama is fucking around. cuz he sure acts like a guy who can't shit without messin' himself. but we are told he is so clever. which can only mean that obama actually wants his own war -- his very very own -- one unbesmirched by the previous pack of dolts and idiots. but he has to make it look like others make him do it. look reluctant to go to war. which is vital when one is a Nobel Peace Laureate. don't wanna give that back. nope. can't really stomp around, gettin' all anxious 'bout gettin' a bit o' the ol' ultraviolence with that peace achor hangin' around your neck, a dead useless weight, spoilin' the fun. so, a charade is enacted, one providing minimal cover for the Peace Laureate, when the gruesome fact is that the world's Peace Laureate is actually totally jazzed about bombing the shit out of libya and taking it over. cuz this time, with obama being so eleven dimensional smart n' all, why this time, he'll get it right!
so, what is it? fuck up, or 11-D war whore dominatrix?
trusty battleship USS Grey Lady is steaming out of port, spewing a fit to print black cloud of war smoke, calling nato a joke and let's please stop pretending. and stop fukkin around obama. do it. you know you want to. laws, rules be damned. of course, since we're in anyway, if we leave, why that maniac gadaffi will unleash a slaughter upon the land. definitely cannot have that. we've spent a lot of time convincing everyone that gadaffi is a murderous nutjob. we. are. in. go big.
never can figure out if obama is fucking around. cuz he sure acts like a guy who can't shit without messin' himself. but we are told he is so clever. which can only mean that obama actually wants his own war -- his very very own -- one unbesmirched by the previous pack of dolts and idiots. but he has to make it look like others make him do it. look reluctant to go to war. which is vital when one is a Nobel Peace Laureate. don't wanna give that back. nope. can't really stomp around, gettin' all anxious 'bout gettin' a bit o' the ol' ultraviolence with that peace achor hangin' around your neck, a dead useless weight, spoilin' the fun. so, a charade is enacted, one providing minimal cover for the Peace Laureate, when the gruesome fact is that the world's Peace Laureate is actually totally jazzed about bombing the shit out of libya and taking it over. cuz this time, with obama being so eleven dimensional smart n' all, why this time, he'll get it right!
so, what is it? fuck up, or 11-D war whore dominatrix?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
libya.so
libya is now a shared object library, providing various users with any number of functional excuses for KMA. the expected creep is taking hold. sarkozy is struttin' his damned best bush, as good a bush as bush could ever manage. sarkozy actually strode to the mike, grinning, to announce his attack. ha ha ha. and now? now the dipshit française "pledged to intensify French airstrikes." team france, fuck yeah! but the sad way. the french. you know. 'cept for sarkozy. he's all wound up on the juice.
more though. boots on the ground, comin' to a libyan a long way from you. "liason" they call 'em. there for training those feckless dolts, er, uh, "help the makeshift rebel forces 'improve their military organizational structures, communications and logistics.' " see. totally benign. just helpin' out those poor disheveled devils.
after sometime, the training will prove worthless, and then, well, you know, we had to go in with our actual boots. yes, it contravenes the un thingy. we can live with that. had to go. those guys? mait. worse than useless. barely keep 'em from shootin' each other. they drive around aimlessly, shooting into the air. one asshole shot an rpg backwards and took out a school bus. didn't think bein' that dumb was possible. well, you know how these things go. just have to show the swarthies how to get things done.
the libyan charade now appears to be more about the west not backing off for fear of "losing" or more aptly looking like they are losing. 'bama, 'kozy, they've all stated the aim: qaddafi must go. can't back down from that. world police.
more though. boots on the ground, comin' to a libyan a long way from you. "liason" they call 'em. there for training those feckless dolts, er, uh, "help the makeshift rebel forces 'improve their military organizational structures, communications and logistics.' " see. totally benign. just helpin' out those poor disheveled devils.
after sometime, the training will prove worthless, and then, well, you know, we had to go in with our actual boots. yes, it contravenes the un thingy. we can live with that. had to go. those guys? mait. worse than useless. barely keep 'em from shootin' each other. they drive around aimlessly, shooting into the air. one asshole shot an rpg backwards and took out a school bus. didn't think bein' that dumb was possible. well, you know how these things go. just have to show the swarthies how to get things done.
the libyan charade now appears to be more about the west not backing off for fear of "losing" or more aptly looking like they are losing. 'bama, 'kozy, they've all stated the aim: qaddafi must go. can't back down from that. world police.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
bachmann jesus overdrive
in what appears to be not just acceptable political rhetoric, but fixed and dipshit hardened, like uber fukkin supremo dipshit michelle bachmann is, which is a lot, guess what counts as a campaign signaler in america? if ya didn't guess jeesuz, well, where the fuckuhya been?
sounds all fukkin christian 'n shit, though, don't it? sure does. that's gotta sell. in the run to be the pouring out president of the united jesustates. see how all blends?
Recounting the story of a woman who was criticized for pouring an expensive fragrant ointment over Jesus’ head, Bachmann said “[w]e should pour ourselves out for Jesus” and recounted, in what had the feel of a campaign speech, ...... tzchzcht uh, negatory Dawson radio, got no idea what the fuck "pouring" yourself out for jesus means.
sounds all fukkin christian 'n shit, though, don't it? sure does. that's gotta sell. in the run to be the pouring out president of the united jesustates. see how all blends?
Monday, April 18, 2011
precog cog
readin' about this COG monstrosity. wow, quite an edifice the buggers have built for themselves, so protectin' n' all. a secret society subdural hematoma of plans and bunkers and on-the-fly law writing schemes to save their asses and restore, well, them. can't keep the levees in shape but by gawd they sure can stuff 20 bills at cheney's dark lairs -- the only real cog that mattered in any of those sites, post 9/11. more like COUGH -- continuity of u gawdamned hustlers. pretty much confirms that, indeed, cheney just took over, bush conveniently out of the loop and a long way away in kindergarten, where he belonged.
as stunning as the plans to cover and save their own asses are, it's the wild eyed yet oddly limited imaginings that begin to take hold. pretty much all about them. oh, and the calm they will bring the american public by their mere presence and authority. for instance,
plans. there is a prevailing wisdom about plans. and it is not good for plans. it seems entirely bizarre that these guys imagine being wiped out in significant numbers and expect there to be some governable population remaining. if the way things are going keep going the way they are going, it could very well be that it will be that very same population that will be wiping their asses out. an imagined "best case scenario." more joy.
doubt they have a plan for that.
don't matter. the security state must plan to save itself, like congress gettin' wiped out, and the executive branch havin' to take over ... everything. that'd be shame, but they do have a plan for it. comm links and command bunkers upgraded and rarin' to go.
as stunning as the plans to cover and save their own asses are, it's the wild eyed yet oddly limited imaginings that begin to take hold. pretty much all about them. oh, and the calm they will bring the american public by their mere presence and authority. for instance,
"The Bush-era COG plans were based on the commonsense premise that no post-disaster government would be legitimate unless people perceived it to be a valid expression of their will ..."uh, hellooo? people don't perceive that now. they don't need a "post-disaster government" to perceive illegitimacy, because they have a full blown "disaster government" right now, complete with fully perceived illegitimacy. the cog machine can't imagine that america or the world could live without their wise and munificent sangfroid strutting and fretting upon the world stage. a world without the american political class. actually, one imagines such joy quite easily, if not routinely.
plans. there is a prevailing wisdom about plans. and it is not good for plans. it seems entirely bizarre that these guys imagine being wiped out in significant numbers and expect there to be some governable population remaining. if the way things are going keep going the way they are going, it could very well be that it will be that very same population that will be wiping their asses out. an imagined "best case scenario." more joy.
doubt they have a plan for that.
don't matter. the security state must plan to save itself, like congress gettin' wiped out, and the executive branch havin' to take over ... everything. that'd be shame, but they do have a plan for it. comm links and command bunkers upgraded and rarin' to go.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
the glut and the glory
got the kicks for this gawdamned keystone xl pipe now. cursed. diggin' round, trying to answer the question of "why?" why the pipeline, and why now? didn't take long to find out.
there is a glut of oil in the united states. midwest refineries cannot handle all the tar sands oil pouring in now from two pipelines. that's right, a glut of oil in the american heartland. a glut so bad, the oil sands corporations and the canucks are taking a ten per cent haircut, losing twelve to eighteen bucks a barrel. not happy, that bunch. not happy about that at all. the american refineries are the bottleneck, and the xl is supposed to widen distribution and get more oil refined, or shipped to wider world markets. meanwhile, as more oil pours into the united states than it can handle, forcing a price cut on suppliers, americans are still enjoying rocketing gas prices, based on the price of oil that is not the oil sitting right there in their backyard. then, the idiot man-boy obama says that maybe that dirty tar sands oil ain't so good after all. the "stakeholders" are like, fucking what? you assholes wanted all this goddamn oil, and now you don't? of course, they do. this is what obama does. he makes big bold-ish statements, and then slinks away, hoping no one will notice. which is stupid, because everyone notices.
so, that's the low down on the xl pipe; things are bunged up, obama's there, gumming up the works and stalling the inevitable, as usual. guess that's supposed to make his administration look pensive 'r sum shit. it's at this point, however, that the mind also begins to question the efficiencies of those lauded privateers, those titans of superfluid free market industry. bottleneck. couldn't see that comin'. nope. seems that free market doesn't look too far ahead. buildin' a bunch oil pipes and punching that go goo into the yooessofehh. oops. forgot about that whole refining capacity thing. more pipes will fix that! this is eerily familiar territory: what? war not working? clearly then, more of it!
lest one imagine that this is part of some long term scheme to deliberately drive down oil prices on the canadians, well, let's just say, doubtful. highly doubtful. so doubtful, in fact, that the canadians have decided that they can't trust the yanks to get their shit together anytime soon and want to build a pipeline to supply china via the west coast. much shorter, but way worse terrain (or beautiful in non oil pipeline contexts). first nations, definitely gonna howl. hell, those radical environmental puppets (see below) are howling already. for all the howling about what the oil industry wants to do, it sports a rather remarkable record for getting just what it wants anyway.
anyway ... what the hell ... oh yeah, china, pipeline. yeah, canucks are shopping the oil sands around. can't be trusting those damn yankees. plan to screw us or just the usual bungling, whatever, fuck them. china wants the oil, of course, but detests all the hassle introduced by those blasted natives and their protests about the pipeline. 'cause ya know what they do in china. they just pick up your ass and move it. china feels very embarrassed by the quibbling. at best, all theses plans will only be delayed, because alberta now is being sold as the saudi arabia neighbour the united states have always deserved: friendly, next door, not muslim, practically empty and ripe for the taking, blinded by oil wealth, though a bit too conscious of their native population. hell, don't even have to invade, just shovel the shit at us. for their part, the canadians just want an out from a less than trustworthy neighbour. from a long way off, this whole scene is a ghastly hilarity; the americans are buying up canada's oil and water, and the canadians are happily shoveling everything to them. the unique insight for the oil blind canadians is that they've realized they should continue to drain their land and befoul their wilderness and keep shoveling those precious goods to somebody else, too.
naturally enough, this little dither round that regionalized energy sector space would most assuredly fall upon the oil patch baptized pages of the calgary herald. it's like fox news in print, at least when it comes to discussions about the tar sands. albertans are rather touchy about it, i've been surprised to learn. surprising how ungreen one gets when the billions are pouring in. foxtrotting in tone and stance, one holding to a global hoaxer conspiracy of "climate change" as absolute fucking fact, some boiling albertan roundhouses all the nay sayers of the pipeline, such as those nefarious and "well-funded environmental radicals" and "big money environmental groups." indeed. i was not aware that there was "big money" in environmentalism. if we could only figure out who the hell all these "big money" environmental groups are, that would be start. soros. he's in there. somewhere. that's what bill o'reilly would tell canadians. and gawdonlynoes what evil lurks in those dark green hearts, known to be "using Canadian aboriginal groups as puppets." what nerve. using aboriginal groups to protect their own native lands. dastardly! did you know that obama adheres to "draconian action on climate change," and yet, and thank goodness, "President Obama did not mention climate change either in his State of the Union speech or at yesterday's press conference"? stealth draconian.
in the alternative energy world of the herald and other boiling albertans, "climate science is collapsing," which seems to indicate that this particular boiling albertan is rather behind the curve, surely a "climate gate" ruminant, convinced that the appearance of the word "trick" in an email between scientists is proof, proof! of a global climate caliphate of egghead puppeteers intent on defunding industrial society.
by the end of the steam letting, the boiling albertan heaves a sigh of relief for middle east turmoil, happy in the knowledge that the kindly canadians won't ever put up a fuss about gouging and befouling their own lands in order to keep the american behemoth sputtering on two cylinders, driving and shopping. that's oil patch gold. that's oil patch glory.
there is a glut of oil in the united states. midwest refineries cannot handle all the tar sands oil pouring in now from two pipelines. that's right, a glut of oil in the american heartland. a glut so bad, the oil sands corporations and the canucks are taking a ten per cent haircut, losing twelve to eighteen bucks a barrel. not happy, that bunch. not happy about that at all. the american refineries are the bottleneck, and the xl is supposed to widen distribution and get more oil refined, or shipped to wider world markets. meanwhile, as more oil pours into the united states than it can handle, forcing a price cut on suppliers, americans are still enjoying rocketing gas prices, based on the price of oil that is not the oil sitting right there in their backyard. then, the idiot man-boy obama says that maybe that dirty tar sands oil ain't so good after all. the "stakeholders" are like, fucking what? you assholes wanted all this goddamn oil, and now you don't? of course, they do. this is what obama does. he makes big bold-ish statements, and then slinks away, hoping no one will notice. which is stupid, because everyone notices.
so, that's the low down on the xl pipe; things are bunged up, obama's there, gumming up the works and stalling the inevitable, as usual. guess that's supposed to make his administration look pensive 'r sum shit. it's at this point, however, that the mind also begins to question the efficiencies of those lauded privateers, those titans of superfluid free market industry. bottleneck. couldn't see that comin'. nope. seems that free market doesn't look too far ahead. buildin' a bunch oil pipes and punching that go goo into the yooessofehh. oops. forgot about that whole refining capacity thing. more pipes will fix that! this is eerily familiar territory: what? war not working? clearly then, more of it!
lest one imagine that this is part of some long term scheme to deliberately drive down oil prices on the canadians, well, let's just say, doubtful. highly doubtful. so doubtful, in fact, that the canadians have decided that they can't trust the yanks to get their shit together anytime soon and want to build a pipeline to supply china via the west coast. much shorter, but way worse terrain (or beautiful in non oil pipeline contexts). first nations, definitely gonna howl. hell, those radical environmental puppets (see below) are howling already. for all the howling about what the oil industry wants to do, it sports a rather remarkable record for getting just what it wants anyway.
anyway ... what the hell ... oh yeah, china, pipeline. yeah, canucks are shopping the oil sands around. can't be trusting those damn yankees. plan to screw us or just the usual bungling, whatever, fuck them. china wants the oil, of course, but detests all the hassle introduced by those blasted natives and their protests about the pipeline. 'cause ya know what they do in china. they just pick up your ass and move it. china feels very embarrassed by the quibbling. at best, all theses plans will only be delayed, because alberta now is being sold as the saudi arabia neighbour the united states have always deserved: friendly, next door, not muslim, practically empty and ripe for the taking, blinded by oil wealth, though a bit too conscious of their native population. hell, don't even have to invade, just shovel the shit at us. for their part, the canadians just want an out from a less than trustworthy neighbour. from a long way off, this whole scene is a ghastly hilarity; the americans are buying up canada's oil and water, and the canadians are happily shoveling everything to them. the unique insight for the oil blind canadians is that they've realized they should continue to drain their land and befoul their wilderness and keep shoveling those precious goods to somebody else, too.
naturally enough, this little dither round that regionalized energy sector space would most assuredly fall upon the oil patch baptized pages of the calgary herald. it's like fox news in print, at least when it comes to discussions about the tar sands. albertans are rather touchy about it, i've been surprised to learn. surprising how ungreen one gets when the billions are pouring in. foxtrotting in tone and stance, one holding to a global hoaxer conspiracy of "climate change" as absolute fucking fact, some boiling albertan roundhouses all the nay sayers of the pipeline, such as those nefarious and "well-funded environmental radicals" and "big money environmental groups." indeed. i was not aware that there was "big money" in environmentalism. if we could only figure out who the hell all these "big money" environmental groups are, that would be start. soros. he's in there. somewhere. that's what bill o'reilly would tell canadians. and gawdonlynoes what evil lurks in those dark green hearts, known to be "using Canadian aboriginal groups as puppets." what nerve. using aboriginal groups to protect their own native lands. dastardly! did you know that obama adheres to "draconian action on climate change," and yet, and thank goodness, "President Obama did not mention climate change either in his State of the Union speech or at yesterday's press conference"? stealth draconian.
in the alternative energy world of the herald and other boiling albertans, "climate science is collapsing," which seems to indicate that this particular boiling albertan is rather behind the curve, surely a "climate gate" ruminant, convinced that the appearance of the word "trick" in an email between scientists is proof, proof! of a global climate caliphate of egghead puppeteers intent on defunding industrial society.
by the end of the steam letting, the boiling albertan heaves a sigh of relief for middle east turmoil, happy in the knowledge that the kindly canadians won't ever put up a fuss about gouging and befouling their own lands in order to keep the american behemoth sputtering on two cylinders, driving and shopping. that's oil patch gold. that's oil patch glory.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
fed r rated
matt's onna nother tear: free money for filthy rich people. headline news apparently. he digs into the easy tax payer money shenanigans of a cupula wall street twat hangers, cashing in on the Fed for rich people bailout bonanza. one, the partner in crime of morgan stanley's john mack. the other, widow of a now dead president of morgan stanley. cashed in pretty good, by the looka things.
fed was shoveling money at everyone, foreign auto makers even as congress is howling about bailing out gm and chrysler. weird, matt thinks this. matt stumbles a bit on credulity when he says,
so, no matt, it ain't crazy for the Fed to do this. it does indeed look crazy, which is great. when people think that, they give up on the question of why.
but face it. they all want to bust the unions. all of them. it's the forefront and fashion these days, and even the Fed will take a shy stroll down the cat walk.
fed was shoveling money at everyone, foreign auto makers even as congress is howling about bailing out gm and chrysler. weird, matt thinks this. matt stumbles a bit on credulity when he says,
the Fed's massive purchases of securities in foreign automakers, including BMW, Volkswagen, Honda, Mitsubishi and Nissan? Or the nearly $5 billion in cheap credit the Fed extended to Toyota and Mitsubishi? Sure, those companies have factories and dealerships in the U.S. — but does it really make sense to give them free cash at the same time taxpayers were being asked to bail out Chrysler and GM? Seems a little crazy to fund the competition of the very automakers you're trying to rescue.let us all recall those heady and shout filled days of the auto bailout. fun, i know. the busting of the auto unions was on full throttle, republican senators and 'gressers hooping a battle cry against the last vestigial organ of once powerful organized labour: the american auto industry. happily, many of those same said republican senators and congressmen represented states and districts that host production plants of those very same, and blessedly non-unionized, "foreign automakers."
so, no matt, it ain't crazy for the Fed to do this. it does indeed look crazy, which is great. when people think that, they give up on the question of why.
but face it. they all want to bust the unions. all of them. it's the forefront and fashion these days, and even the Fed will take a shy stroll down the cat walk.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
silver surfer and the magic kingdom
isn't it fun? watching what those americans call their "elections"? funny, in a sad, yet ultimately deadly way. american elections are like watching groundhog day, where, every morning after, new votes pop up like a shadowless rodent, over and over again, and swing the election decisively in favour of ... the republican. elections, as a term, is hardly applicable, but we are encumbered thusly by the strictures of tradition, myth, and jaw dropping ignorance about the electoral system of the united states.
what is fun about the american election is watching all those republican votes magically pop up in the night, like conservative turd-fertilized ballot shrooms, to be brought forth into the light of a new and ferociously democratic sun. rejoice at these newly found votes. they shall nourish and sustain us. fret not their provenance, for we are with god.
okay, they don't actually say that last part, but that's what a lot of 'em think. one of the remarkable semi-buried truths of american politics is the control of the us electoral system by private corporations, Diebold cum Premier, ES&S, Sequoia, all owned and operated by avowed, if not near rabid christian fundamentalists who see it their duty to "save the babies" and run the country with the ten commandments and that's it. and they really don't give a shit about democracy. and it ain't just the machine owners; the nutjobs and lackeys are drilled down and embedded at the county level, as this little episode in wisconsin so fruitfully demonstrated.
what? didn't hear about this? New York Chimes not telling you any of this? nope. spend what little time they do attacking anyone questioning the integrity of elections in the greatest democracy in the world! can't have that. in the american media, well, what we have here is just adorable fuddled-up bungling. that's real, human democracy, fulla mistakes. all having to be corrected to the republican way. two days after the election, a shady repub county hack squirts +norecount number of votes out of her ass and onto the guy she used to work for, and there's nate "the establishment date" silver, now in the hallowed pages of the new york times, showing everyone why this is entirely reasonable. what a fukkin buffoon. silver bases all of this nuttin-funny-here "analysis" on turnout, and only turnout, on already jiggered election results -- never addressing the distribution of the votes -- and entirely ignoring the fact that there is literally no way to know where the votes came from. for all we know, the dipshit clerk could have given prosser 100% of the vote, and nate silver's kindergarten analysis wouldn't have noticed a thing. from poker dope bluffs to election shenanigan cover-ups in the pages of the new york print fit times. nate is trending establishment up, and with a statistical silver lining.
the us hasn't seen anything approaching a reasonable election since two grand. rube nate doesn't seem to understand this, or does and pretends otherwise. it may have been that he has even argued against the fact that the electoral system is completely compromised. does he not know this? if not, why not?
oh fuck, who should care about the drip nate? what we out here in the real world want to know is, will the magical appearance of just the right amount of votes to give prosser the "win" without the annoyance and cost of a recount be enough to bring the whole gop-xtian electoral conspiracy to light?
doesn't appear so. magic votes count in the magic kingdom.
what is fun about the american election is watching all those republican votes magically pop up in the night, like conservative turd-fertilized ballot shrooms, to be brought forth into the light of a new and ferociously democratic sun. rejoice at these newly found votes. they shall nourish and sustain us. fret not their provenance, for we are with god.
okay, they don't actually say that last part, but that's what a lot of 'em think. one of the remarkable semi-buried truths of american politics is the control of the us electoral system by private corporations, Diebold cum Premier, ES&S, Sequoia, all owned and operated by avowed, if not near rabid christian fundamentalists who see it their duty to "save the babies" and run the country with the ten commandments and that's it. and they really don't give a shit about democracy. and it ain't just the machine owners; the nutjobs and lackeys are drilled down and embedded at the county level, as this little episode in wisconsin so fruitfully demonstrated.
what? didn't hear about this? New York Chimes not telling you any of this? nope. spend what little time they do attacking anyone questioning the integrity of elections in the greatest democracy in the world! can't have that. in the american media, well, what we have here is just adorable fuddled-up bungling. that's real, human democracy, fulla mistakes. all having to be corrected to the republican way. two days after the election, a shady repub county hack squirts +norecount number of votes out of her ass and onto the guy she used to work for, and there's nate "the establishment date" silver, now in the hallowed pages of the new york times, showing everyone why this is entirely reasonable. what a fukkin buffoon. silver bases all of this nuttin-funny-here "analysis" on turnout, and only turnout, on already jiggered election results -- never addressing the distribution of the votes -- and entirely ignoring the fact that there is literally no way to know where the votes came from. for all we know, the dipshit clerk could have given prosser 100% of the vote, and nate silver's kindergarten analysis wouldn't have noticed a thing. from poker dope bluffs to election shenanigan cover-ups in the pages of the new york print fit times. nate is trending establishment up, and with a statistical silver lining.
the us hasn't seen anything approaching a reasonable election since two grand. rube nate doesn't seem to understand this, or does and pretends otherwise. it may have been that he has even argued against the fact that the electoral system is completely compromised. does he not know this? if not, why not?
oh fuck, who should care about the drip nate? what we out here in the real world want to know is, will the magical appearance of just the right amount of votes to give prosser the "win" without the annoyance and cost of a recount be enough to bring the whole gop-xtian electoral conspiracy to light?
doesn't appear so. magic votes count in the magic kingdom.
NAAFRITO
ol rozoff is pilin' up the shit about nato movin' in on africa, pulled there by the relentless us military monster via africom. i quite enjoy rick's fresh and assailing perspective. it's kinda like reading about the russians in american media, always up to some shifty eyed, vestigial commie plot, except, rozof's stories are actually true. nato and africom and monstercom are doing this shit, right in front us, and all day and every day long. wars and ops in central asia, occupations in the middle east, missile sites planned to encircle russia and china, reactivation of the fourth fleet, wars games with like minded fools all over the damn globe, and now it's time to stomp on a few uncooperative twerps in africa. thank goodness for that revolutionary spirit!
there are, or soon to be were, only five nations in africa that have not signed nato alliance or cooperation deals. not oddly at all, two of those five nations are currently under nato attack. for humanitarian reasons, of course. or to install a guy who used to work for the IMF as some internationally recognized leader, by the un security council no less! and humanitarian reasons. the three dawdlers, eritrea, sudan, and zimbabwe, well, as you can certainly tell by your own cynical chuckle, those dullards have already been pegged to the board. years long support for the spla has finally paid dividends with the look of session by south sudan. privatize is the oil play, forcing china into a mix of competitors. china gained by that in iraq, will loose a lot in sudan. mugabe has been on the skewer for awhile now, turning slowly. and eritriea? doubt anyone gives a fuck. china will certainly object to any fiddling in sudan, but then, that is one of the points.
rename? anyone?
there are, or soon to be were, only five nations in africa that have not signed nato alliance or cooperation deals. not oddly at all, two of those five nations are currently under nato attack. for humanitarian reasons, of course. or to install a guy who used to work for the IMF as some internationally recognized leader, by the un security council no less! and humanitarian reasons. the three dawdlers, eritrea, sudan, and zimbabwe, well, as you can certainly tell by your own cynical chuckle, those dullards have already been pegged to the board. years long support for the spla has finally paid dividends with the look of session by south sudan. privatize is the oil play, forcing china into a mix of competitors. china gained by that in iraq, will loose a lot in sudan. mugabe has been on the skewer for awhile now, turning slowly. and eritriea? doubt anyone gives a fuck. china will certainly object to any fiddling in sudan, but then, that is one of the points.
rename? anyone?
Friday, April 8, 2011
war dink.
"kinetic military action." this is what the word masters of the obama white house call military action. with the word kinetic on the front. one surmises that this is to distinguish it from "potential military action," which is not military action. two possible explanations for this redundancy impinge the noggin. obama does not see the word action as enough of an action word. needs to punch it up. or, obama is unable to distinguish between action and inaction, and needs a "special" word to tell him shit is gonna get movin' around. that particular dyslexia explains a lot, actually.
anyway, obama went n' complicated shit up here, "military action" or possibly "military police action" used to be the chosen pentospeak phrase for undeclared and usually illegal war. until that fuckin' obama had to add another, entirely redundant word. that is what he does best. but the obama administration has fixed the communication problem introduced by having to mention the word "war." bummer stigma. and frankly, there's the legal thing they'd rather not get into. "war" get's all heavy and serious, when, really, ya just wanna take out this one guy. one pain in the fukkin ass. that's it. can't be callin' that a war now, can we? nope. KMA is what we got here folks.
on the plus side, and perhaps this will part of obama's legacy, WAR --> KMA. and declarations of KMA are not addressed in the Constitution. so, yipee ki yay muthafuckaaaaaazz.
anyway, obama went n' complicated shit up here, "military action" or possibly "military police action" used to be the chosen pentospeak phrase for undeclared and usually illegal war. until that fuckin' obama had to add another, entirely redundant word. that is what he does best. but the obama administration has fixed the communication problem introduced by having to mention the word "war." bummer stigma. and frankly, there's the legal thing they'd rather not get into. "war" get's all heavy and serious, when, really, ya just wanna take out this one guy. one pain in the fukkin ass. that's it. can't be callin' that a war now, can we? nope. KMA is what we got here folks.
on the plus side, and perhaps this will part of obama's legacy, WAR --> KMA. and declarations of KMA are not addressed in the Constitution. so, yipee ki yay muthafuckaaaaaazz.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
a court of little regard
well, i can scarcely believe it. did you know there was a civil action by a pentagon employee against dick cheney, rummy, myers seeking damages for harm done as a result of their personal actions on 9/11? it happened on april 5, 2011, and that said civil action did commence in the United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit? i didn't hear brian williams tell me about this interesting event. nor anyone else on the teevee for that matter. not even amy. google alerted the trial. know what popped up? one story from that pr newswire. one. that was it. that was the sum total of what google delivered from news sources about this trial. 'cause ya know, she's crazy, that top secret pentagon person. fortunately, the court did not have to restrict the press, because there were none. small mercies.
the pr newswire story is pretty good, though obviously bent. understandable. if you know anything about the ridiculous bullshit surrounding 9/11, then yeah, you're bent. and here's an even bendier part. of the, good grief, how many of these fuckers are on this bench? gobs of them. anyway, what are the chances that george bush's first freakin' cousin gets assigned the 9/11 case? doesn't matter. because there are no chances. george bush's first cousin, john walker, will preside on the three seat bench to hear the case of Gallop v. Cheney, Rumsfeld, and Myers. naturally, in the face of such blatant coi, the defense lawyer filed a motion to disqualify walker. fuck you, truther. let's get on with this farce!
the jurists seemed unfamiliar with certain high level us government testimony at the 9/11 Commission hearings, that dick cheney, chortling in is his evil bunker, let whatever the hell hit the pentagon, hit the pentagon. nope, never heard that crazy talk. jus' sounds crazy, don't it? one imagines these dipshits mulling it over. though they may play dumb, there cannot be complete ignorance on the bench. after all, george w. bush's first cuz is watching over things with a dead soul and clear allies on the bench.
the pr newswire story is pretty good, though obviously bent. understandable. if you know anything about the ridiculous bullshit surrounding 9/11, then yeah, you're bent. and here's an even bendier part. of the, good grief, how many of these fuckers are on this bench? gobs of them. anyway, what are the chances that george bush's first freakin' cousin gets assigned the 9/11 case? doesn't matter. because there are no chances. george bush's first cousin, john walker, will preside on the three seat bench to hear the case of Gallop v. Cheney, Rumsfeld, and Myers. naturally, in the face of such blatant coi, the defense lawyer filed a motion to disqualify walker. fuck you, truther. let's get on with this farce!
the jurists seemed unfamiliar with certain high level us government testimony at the 9/11 Commission hearings, that dick cheney, chortling in is his evil bunker, let whatever the hell hit the pentagon, hit the pentagon. nope, never heard that crazy talk. jus' sounds crazy, don't it? one imagines these dipshits mulling it over. though they may play dumb, there cannot be complete ignorance on the bench. after all, george w. bush's first cuz is watching over things with a dead soul and clear allies on the bench.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
our monsters
that whole Bindloss thing kinda tossed me onto that rather unpleasant slash across the earth, the tar sands. never nice, whatever they find out about what is going on there. latest thing to pop up ugly was a big study done of the co2 and methane gas emissions caused by the destruction of peatlands. terrible. that's it. not only that, but the lassitude of even conventional operations in Alberta generate greenhouse gas emissions "5-10 times greater than that of California's conventional oil wells." wide open spaces up there in alberta. no one buggin' ya.
the study doers come out all surprised and alarmed by what they found. because some of what they found was pretty fucking alarming, like a whole lotta methane gurgling out of the massive tailings ponds of extruded mining waste laced with toxic chemicals "due to explosive biological activity in the ponds." great. monster ponds.
there has been some remarkably silly shit flying around the minds of the petroleum industry in keeping the tar sands dream alive. already, a network of natural gas wells supply the energy to make crude oil. and nasty crude oil at that. other grand tar sand thinkers imagined a network of nuclear power plants to supply energy to the tar sands operations. nuclear fission to deliver dirty, low grade fossil fuel. how's that for a Jetsons to Flintstones power delivery vector? such forward thinking in that petroleum crowd. there's tell they are already working on using laser nuclear fusion and space warp technology to power all of their crude oil production operations. the green and super future.
so, why not add "explosive biological activity" into the mix? seems only fitting, really. what with the clear cutting, the planing, the vast scouring, and backhoe fucking of the earth's crust, that "explosive biological" monsters would burst forth from the noxious offal could almost be expected.
speaking of, now that fukushima has unleashed the rads into the sea, who cannot help but wonder: since the dawn of the nuclear age, will the Japanese, and the world, finally get the Godzilla we have always longed for?
the study doers come out all surprised and alarmed by what they found. because some of what they found was pretty fucking alarming, like a whole lotta methane gurgling out of the massive tailings ponds of extruded mining waste laced with toxic chemicals "due to explosive biological activity in the ponds." great. monster ponds.
there has been some remarkably silly shit flying around the minds of the petroleum industry in keeping the tar sands dream alive. already, a network of natural gas wells supply the energy to make crude oil. and nasty crude oil at that. other grand tar sand thinkers imagined a network of nuclear power plants to supply energy to the tar sands operations. nuclear fission to deliver dirty, low grade fossil fuel. how's that for a Jetsons to Flintstones power delivery vector? such forward thinking in that petroleum crowd. there's tell they are already working on using laser nuclear fusion and space warp technology to power all of their crude oil production operations. the green and super future.
so, why not add "explosive biological activity" into the mix? seems only fitting, really. what with the clear cutting, the planing, the vast scouring, and backhoe fucking of the earth's crust, that "explosive biological" monsters would burst forth from the noxious offal could almost be expected.
speaking of, now that fukushima has unleashed the rads into the sea, who cannot help but wonder: since the dawn of the nuclear age, will the Japanese, and the world, finally get the Godzilla we have always longed for?
Saturday, April 2, 2011
morass with the best of them
wallers comes down hard on the Saudis for the Libyan war, suckered the yanks right in. okay, maybe "suckered" isn't quite right. yanks always want to go in, one damn phony reason or another. what's that? you got the arab league on board? un security council resolution? super. okay, lads, it's tomahawk time! release the hounds!
can't say the i've seen wallerstein advocate revolt against a government before, but he did it here: "the best hope of everyone is that the second Arab revolt renews steam - perhaps a long shot now - and shakes first of all the Saudis."
afraid that pentagon plan for a new middle east, as engdahl credulously described, is being unwound on exigent autonomous interest vectors. doesn't seem, though, that wallers sees this revolutionary wave as the launch of some half-boiled pentagon scheme to remake the world. i mean, look at them. it doesn't look for long shitty minute like this white house could wipe it's ass with both hands.
can't say the i've seen wallerstein advocate revolt against a government before, but he did it here: "the best hope of everyone is that the second Arab revolt renews steam - perhaps a long shot now - and shakes first of all the Saudis."
afraid that pentagon plan for a new middle east, as engdahl credulously described, is being unwound on exigent autonomous interest vectors. doesn't seem, though, that wallers sees this revolutionary wave as the launch of some half-boiled pentagon scheme to remake the world. i mean, look at them. it doesn't look for long shitty minute like this white house could wipe it's ass with both hands.
liberal tar pitch
you know what it means to be an Alberta Liberal? It means you want to sell bitumen tar sands oil to the Chinese, as well as the Americans.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Bindloss
In my first summer of college, I did what most students do that first summer and went to the student employment center. I noticed a job advertisement requiring the ability to ride a motorcycle. "Must be able to ride a motorcycle," it said. Now, outside the rarified world of professional motor sports, I was not too aware of many jobs that would pay anyone to ride a motorcycle. This seemed a job that was, if not impossible, at least highly improbable -- rarified in its own way. I read the advert again. And then again. The words did not change. Amazingly, no one else seemed to note this employment nugget. I pulled the notice and ran.
"Must be able to ride a motorcycle." I had never ridden a motorcycle. But mutually supporting conditions of youth and idiocy convinced me I would be "able" to. In theory. I could ride a bicycle. I had a friend who had a motorcycle. I could drive a stick. Shit, dude, put it all together in your head and you're good to go. I called. Didn't know anything about geology, but sure as shit could I ride. I lied. How hard can it be? Cerebral synthesis of disparate knowledge and abilities would surely be sufficient, if not for complete mastery, then at least to keep from falling over. At the interview, I met the fellow new recruits and, after introductions and pleasantries, we all went out back to ride "the motorcycle." All of these guys looked like they could ride a motorcycle. Good grief. I was the only one who did not appear to belong to a biker gang. Now what? Well, just give it a go. I know it in theory. And we all know how well that usually works out. Fortunately at the time, I did not have much experience with how knowing only theory does or does not "work out." I could get the clutch thing, I knew I could.
Sweet blessed providence. The subject motorcycle brought out was an odd, undersized 75cc Honda enduro-bike. Clutchless. As in, no clutch. Automatic. Sweet heaven above, this was going to be easy. And it was. No problem. It was really just like riding a bicycle, only easier. I found the weight helped control. Got the job and it was off to the grain-belted steppe of southeast Alberta and southwest Saskatchewan. Soil sampling is what we were doing. This small exploration company had developed and patented some technique for analyzing hydrocarbon content in surface soil in order to determine likely deposits -- usually gas -- down below. Apparently successful and amazingly benign. Except for us. We were not benign at all. And it would soon become apparent just why these small motorcycles were chosen for the task.
We were two teams of three men; one crew boss and two riders. Originally, a notion of the job was that the crew positions would rotate. Once a rider, always a rider though, for the prospect of sitting in and driving a truck all day long paled next to the glee of bombing around on a motorcycle unfettered by road or law all day long. Be the chief? You mean be the guy who sits in a hot truck on a dusty road, swatting flies, while you guys are bombing around out there? The teams were fixed on day one and with no argument. The riders went out on a gridded survey, running east-west lines on section, half section and quarter section boundaries. Along the lines, we would collect soil samples every fifth or sometimes every half a mile. At every sample site, we were supposed get off the motor, walk some ten feet away to take the sample, then back. Over and over again. Hours on end. It took no more than a few samples under protocol before drudgery set in, each rider independently arriving at one common, inevitable conclusion: "fuck this."
First and many hand experience suggested that sampling protocol was not followed. Like I said, I might have made the trudge a few times, and just as the rest of humanity is wont, succumbed to the overwhelming temptations of unwitnessed laze: who the hell is gonna know if I get off or do not get off this motorcycle and walk ten feet and take the goddamned soil sample over there? Look at where I am! The barely and the bees and me. No one, that's who. Was I invested in the results of these tests? Not that I was aw ... uh, no. Mostly, like lazy human assholes would do, we gave into our lazy uninvested human side and just leaned over on the running bike, scooped some dirt, and then blasted off to the next poop scoop, yippee kiyay-in' all the way. In a survey drill down, the grid would be every tenth of a mile. It's silly riding a tenth of mile, more time scooping than moving. No time for yipee kiyay-in' and no speed. Dense grids were not enjoyed by any but those smelling gas.
The teams coordinated deploy and the four riders were dispatched. And dispatched we were, from all sense of decorum, probity, or consideration. We were, after all, ripping through fields on motorcycles! Woo hoo! We tore through fields, dutifully scooping dirt into labeled paper bags on the 0.20 mile, or the 0.50 mile, or the hated tenther matrix. We hauled our motorcycles under barbed wire fences, slung them over wooden fences, knocked fences over, terrorized cattle, pulled up posts, ripped through newly planted fields, farmers yowling behind us as we holy-shitted our way the hell out of there. The crew bosses were supposed to be out getting permission or warning people or something. Don't think they did much of that, though. For awhile, we surveyed open pasture, prairie seas of steaming cow shit that are quaintly known as "crown land" in Canada, zooming around cattle and cow pies in various stages of extroverted remediation. Occasionally, I would take a sample right next to a big wet turd, even plunk a little in there, wondering if that would cause some sort of statistical outlier in the data, get the petro-boys in the lab all wound up. Got your hydrocarbons, right here sir! It was early and half-formed fucking with the petroleum industry, though I was not consciously aware that that was what I was doing at the time. Mostly, I was just being a jackass, albeit with some minor bent toward scientific curiosity about the possible measurement effects of localized volatile organic matter on the hydrocarbon contents of surface soil sampling. Something like that. Mostly though, it was just jackass. I feel certain the lab had determined the jackass scale factor. Somebody may have even written a paper: "Measurement Effects of Localized Volatile Organic Matter on the Hydrocarbon Content of Surface Soil and Empirical Determination of the Jackass Scale Factor."
During one of the many dusty sojourns through and around the crops and cows of southern Alberta, picking up dirt, I stumbled upon the remnants of what was likely once a thriving prairie hamlet. Two elevators appeared to grow out of the surrounding grain. Near long abandoned rails, the elevators, still in apparent good shape, stood alone. As was standard, the side of the old elevators carried identifying labels: ALBERTA WHEAT POOL BINDLOSS. Bindloss. I wondered what Bindloss might have been like decades ago; a bustling, thriving wheat belt prairie town. There was no apparent reason why such a town and facilities would be abandoned. Forces unseen. That name has been stuck in my head, has haunted me really, ever since. Perhaps because it was such a stark image of a bright, sunny, serene doom, an oddly appropriate name: bind the loss, tie it off, walk away.
There were other little places like Bindloss scattered across the landscape, and gridding our way around the fields and pastures, we stumbled upon other notable derelicts: the charming Piapot. For some time, the two teams were holed up in the then dirt road town of Shaunavon, Sask. It was like living in Dodge, except with trucks. And no petticoats. Fortunately, the awesome job of bombing around on motorcycles in the lovely prairie summer and getting paid for it kept us out of Shaunavon for most of the day.
For five months we literally scoured the lands of the southern Canadian prairie. It was by the end of those summer days, late August, that the job was winding down. At this time of year, the crops are high and dry and ripe, and we were zipping through the last few lines of the final grid. As we happily motored and thrashed our way through the very dry barley, ripe grain and chaff would fly off, hit the motors. Some of the barley would pop, and popping barley smells surprisingly like popping corn. This, along with combustion exhaust, warm tire rubber, and human sweat, all combined to render an aromatic cocoon not unlike what certain colourful similes might term a "popcorn fart." Indeed, a motorcycle in a ripened barely field may be the only place outside the human gut where such an odor has been successfully synthesized. We bombed through, traces of wild thrashing amidst a vast plain of unwavering golden barley, popcorn fart wafting from our wake. Once in awhile barley stalks and grains and all that barley hair would get stuck on the motor and catch fire. That is an attention grabber. Motorcycles and popcorn and fire in the fields. We were lucky we didn't set crops ablaze. This would not have sat well with the locals.
But no wildfires commenced. Finished, we all pulled in and parked with the trucks. On some nameless gravel road somewhere north of Swift Current, we loaded the bikes and sat down on the side of that nameless road and had a beer, or some other, larger number. The gloaming of that last simmering day was a soft and subtle affair between land and sky, a long slow breath of burnt orange.
Which is a very long introduction to why a recent local Texas story perked my attentions. Texans are rightly fearful of their water supply should the planned extension of the Keystone XL pipeline go through to Port Arthur, Tx. This pipeline pops up on the business pages, and Energy & Capital Newsletters, on the ball Canadian outfits, but mostly, no one knows of this. Except the locals who are, or will be, directly impacted.
Like the Keystone pipeline, the planned Keystone XL will carry tar sands oil also from Hardisty, Alberta, but more directly to Steele City, Ks. and thence through Oklahoma and Texas. The Keystone XL line will pipe corrosive bitumen tar sands oil through the United States and is being brought to your locality by the good folks at Bechtel, who are always looking out for what's in America's best energy interest. No one wants this pipeline to leak. At all. Which means that some are arguing no pipeline. At all. Texans are starting to stir, and landowners in Oklahoma are challenging the expropriations for the pipeline. Nebraska, too, is concerned, as the pipeline route will span the Ogallala aquifer, a water source for eight surrounding states. The record on pipeline leaks and ruptures is long. But the Keystone pipeline has already been built, and runs from Hardisty, Ab., to Kansas and Illinois. Local protests may pop up, but for the most part the pipeline looks like a done deal. Who knows, though? Protest is in the air these days, despite the usual howling from the business pages about "dumb opposition" to the pipeline. For it's part, TransCanada offers website visitors testimonials in praise of the wonders of the coming pipeline, testimonials written by the likes of the American Petroleum Institute and various trucking associations.
But regular folk don't trust oil industry executives for the most part. Not sure why that is, but they don't. And so what is obviously lacking from TransCanada's sample of testimonials, however, are some salt-of-the-earth letters from salt-of-the-earth folk expressing joy and happiness at the prospects of the Keystone XL pipeline, something along these lines.
In looking at a large scale map of the entire pipeline route, I started to take curious about the part of the route through the southwest section of Saskatchewan, it looking close to those old motorized dirt picking grounds. The TransCanada website ("In business to deliver") kindly provides some nice maps of the Keystone XL pipeline route, and rather detailed and specific they are.
Bindloss is right on the line, "Bindloss South PS" the map says. Piapot's on there too. "Piapot PS". Past Piapot, the pipeline is due to churn and pour its noxious sludge, our dark and blasted energy, right past Shaunavon, Saskatchewan. Serene abandonment will soon be abolished. Canadian tar sands, Middle East turmoil, and the American market have put Bindloss back on the map.
"Must be able to ride a motorcycle." I had never ridden a motorcycle. But mutually supporting conditions of youth and idiocy convinced me I would be "able" to. In theory. I could ride a bicycle. I had a friend who had a motorcycle. I could drive a stick. Shit, dude, put it all together in your head and you're good to go. I called. Didn't know anything about geology, but sure as shit could I ride. I lied. How hard can it be? Cerebral synthesis of disparate knowledge and abilities would surely be sufficient, if not for complete mastery, then at least to keep from falling over. At the interview, I met the fellow new recruits and, after introductions and pleasantries, we all went out back to ride "the motorcycle." All of these guys looked like they could ride a motorcycle. Good grief. I was the only one who did not appear to belong to a biker gang. Now what? Well, just give it a go. I know it in theory. And we all know how well that usually works out. Fortunately at the time, I did not have much experience with how knowing only theory does or does not "work out." I could get the clutch thing, I knew I could.
Sweet blessed providence. The subject motorcycle brought out was an odd, undersized 75cc Honda enduro-bike. Clutchless. As in, no clutch. Automatic. Sweet heaven above, this was going to be easy. And it was. No problem. It was really just like riding a bicycle, only easier. I found the weight helped control. Got the job and it was off to the grain-belted steppe of southeast Alberta and southwest Saskatchewan. Soil sampling is what we were doing. This small exploration company had developed and patented some technique for analyzing hydrocarbon content in surface soil in order to determine likely deposits -- usually gas -- down below. Apparently successful and amazingly benign. Except for us. We were not benign at all. And it would soon become apparent just why these small motorcycles were chosen for the task.
We were two teams of three men; one crew boss and two riders. Originally, a notion of the job was that the crew positions would rotate. Once a rider, always a rider though, for the prospect of sitting in and driving a truck all day long paled next to the glee of bombing around on a motorcycle unfettered by road or law all day long. Be the chief? You mean be the guy who sits in a hot truck on a dusty road, swatting flies, while you guys are bombing around out there? The teams were fixed on day one and with no argument. The riders went out on a gridded survey, running east-west lines on section, half section and quarter section boundaries. Along the lines, we would collect soil samples every fifth or sometimes every half a mile. At every sample site, we were supposed get off the motor, walk some ten feet away to take the sample, then back. Over and over again. Hours on end. It took no more than a few samples under protocol before drudgery set in, each rider independently arriving at one common, inevitable conclusion: "fuck this."
First and many hand experience suggested that sampling protocol was not followed. Like I said, I might have made the trudge a few times, and just as the rest of humanity is wont, succumbed to the overwhelming temptations of unwitnessed laze: who the hell is gonna know if I get off or do not get off this motorcycle and walk ten feet and take the goddamned soil sample over there? Look at where I am! The barely and the bees and me. No one, that's who. Was I invested in the results of these tests? Not that I was aw ... uh, no. Mostly, like lazy human assholes would do, we gave into our lazy uninvested human side and just leaned over on the running bike, scooped some dirt, and then blasted off to the next poop scoop, yippee kiyay-in' all the way. In a survey drill down, the grid would be every tenth of a mile. It's silly riding a tenth of mile, more time scooping than moving. No time for yipee kiyay-in' and no speed. Dense grids were not enjoyed by any but those smelling gas.
The teams coordinated deploy and the four riders were dispatched. And dispatched we were, from all sense of decorum, probity, or consideration. We were, after all, ripping through fields on motorcycles! Woo hoo! We tore through fields, dutifully scooping dirt into labeled paper bags on the 0.20 mile, or the 0.50 mile, or the hated tenther matrix. We hauled our motorcycles under barbed wire fences, slung them over wooden fences, knocked fences over, terrorized cattle, pulled up posts, ripped through newly planted fields, farmers yowling behind us as we holy-shitted our way the hell out of there. The crew bosses were supposed to be out getting permission or warning people or something. Don't think they did much of that, though. For awhile, we surveyed open pasture, prairie seas of steaming cow shit that are quaintly known as "crown land" in Canada, zooming around cattle and cow pies in various stages of extroverted remediation. Occasionally, I would take a sample right next to a big wet turd, even plunk a little in there, wondering if that would cause some sort of statistical outlier in the data, get the petro-boys in the lab all wound up. Got your hydrocarbons, right here sir! It was early and half-formed fucking with the petroleum industry, though I was not consciously aware that that was what I was doing at the time. Mostly, I was just being a jackass, albeit with some minor bent toward scientific curiosity about the possible measurement effects of localized volatile organic matter on the hydrocarbon contents of surface soil sampling. Something like that. Mostly though, it was just jackass. I feel certain the lab had determined the jackass scale factor. Somebody may have even written a paper: "Measurement Effects of Localized Volatile Organic Matter on the Hydrocarbon Content of Surface Soil and Empirical Determination of the Jackass Scale Factor."
During one of the many dusty sojourns through and around the crops and cows of southern Alberta, picking up dirt, I stumbled upon the remnants of what was likely once a thriving prairie hamlet. Two elevators appeared to grow out of the surrounding grain. Near long abandoned rails, the elevators, still in apparent good shape, stood alone. As was standard, the side of the old elevators carried identifying labels: ALBERTA WHEAT POOL BINDLOSS. Bindloss. I wondered what Bindloss might have been like decades ago; a bustling, thriving wheat belt prairie town. There was no apparent reason why such a town and facilities would be abandoned. Forces unseen. That name has been stuck in my head, has haunted me really, ever since. Perhaps because it was such a stark image of a bright, sunny, serene doom, an oddly appropriate name: bind the loss, tie it off, walk away.
There were other little places like Bindloss scattered across the landscape, and gridding our way around the fields and pastures, we stumbled upon other notable derelicts: the charming Piapot. For some time, the two teams were holed up in the then dirt road town of Shaunavon, Sask. It was like living in Dodge, except with trucks. And no petticoats. Fortunately, the awesome job of bombing around on motorcycles in the lovely prairie summer and getting paid for it kept us out of Shaunavon for most of the day.
For five months we literally scoured the lands of the southern Canadian prairie. It was by the end of those summer days, late August, that the job was winding down. At this time of year, the crops are high and dry and ripe, and we were zipping through the last few lines of the final grid. As we happily motored and thrashed our way through the very dry barley, ripe grain and chaff would fly off, hit the motors. Some of the barley would pop, and popping barley smells surprisingly like popping corn. This, along with combustion exhaust, warm tire rubber, and human sweat, all combined to render an aromatic cocoon not unlike what certain colourful similes might term a "popcorn fart." Indeed, a motorcycle in a ripened barely field may be the only place outside the human gut where such an odor has been successfully synthesized. We bombed through, traces of wild thrashing amidst a vast plain of unwavering golden barley, popcorn fart wafting from our wake. Once in awhile barley stalks and grains and all that barley hair would get stuck on the motor and catch fire. That is an attention grabber. Motorcycles and popcorn and fire in the fields. We were lucky we didn't set crops ablaze. This would not have sat well with the locals.
But no wildfires commenced. Finished, we all pulled in and parked with the trucks. On some nameless gravel road somewhere north of Swift Current, we loaded the bikes and sat down on the side of that nameless road and had a beer, or some other, larger number. The gloaming of that last simmering day was a soft and subtle affair between land and sky, a long slow breath of burnt orange.
Which is a very long introduction to why a recent local Texas story perked my attentions. Texans are rightly fearful of their water supply should the planned extension of the Keystone XL pipeline go through to Port Arthur, Tx. This pipeline pops up on the business pages, and Energy & Capital Newsletters, on the ball Canadian outfits, but mostly, no one knows of this. Except the locals who are, or will be, directly impacted.
Like the Keystone pipeline, the planned Keystone XL will carry tar sands oil also from Hardisty, Alberta, but more directly to Steele City, Ks. and thence through Oklahoma and Texas. The Keystone XL line will pipe corrosive bitumen tar sands oil through the United States and is being brought to your locality by the good folks at Bechtel, who are always looking out for what's in America's best energy interest. No one wants this pipeline to leak. At all. Which means that some are arguing no pipeline. At all. Texans are starting to stir, and landowners in Oklahoma are challenging the expropriations for the pipeline. Nebraska, too, is concerned, as the pipeline route will span the Ogallala aquifer, a water source for eight surrounding states. The record on pipeline leaks and ruptures is long. But the Keystone pipeline has already been built, and runs from Hardisty, Ab., to Kansas and Illinois. Local protests may pop up, but for the most part the pipeline looks like a done deal. Who knows, though? Protest is in the air these days, despite the usual howling from the business pages about "dumb opposition" to the pipeline. For it's part, TransCanada offers website visitors testimonials in praise of the wonders of the coming pipeline, testimonials written by the likes of the American Petroleum Institute and various trucking associations.
But regular folk don't trust oil industry executives for the most part. Not sure why that is, but they don't. And so what is obviously lacking from TransCanada's sample of testimonials, however, are some salt-of-the-earth letters from salt-of-the-earth folk expressing joy and happiness at the prospects of the Keystone XL pipeline, something along these lines.
Thank you, TransCanada and Bechtel.
Thank you for bringing the warm and friendly technology of oil pipelines to my district and even right next to my house. I can hardly wait. Especially for the winter. I've heard tell that animals will gather near the pipeline to enjoy the ambient warmth provided by the hot, flowing oil. If this is true, well, this is just great. Not only will the animals get to enjoy the warmth of the pipeline in the winter, this bounty will be brought directly to me, and without the annoying hassle of heading out into the woods to shoot them. With the advent of the Keystone XL pipeline, I will soon be able to sit on my porch and mow down wildlife with unbridled abandon, and with all of my many guns. I am looking forward to this immensely.
Keep up the good work, Bechtel and TransCanada!
Sincerely,
Some DumbassLike that. Hell, I'll even volunteer to write more of these for TransCanada.
In looking at a large scale map of the entire pipeline route, I started to take curious about the part of the route through the southwest section of Saskatchewan, it looking close to those old motorized dirt picking grounds. The TransCanada website ("In business to deliver") kindly provides some nice maps of the Keystone XL pipeline route, and rather detailed and specific they are.
Bindloss is right on the line, "Bindloss South PS" the map says. Piapot's on there too. "Piapot PS". Past Piapot, the pipeline is due to churn and pour its noxious sludge, our dark and blasted energy, right past Shaunavon, Saskatchewan. Serene abandonment will soon be abolished. Canadian tar sands, Middle East turmoil, and the American market have put Bindloss back on the map.
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