The Red Tape I ImagineThe Industrialists Could Cause

I'm letting my mind have a free run of the place tonight, using my imagination.

This is like in the old Superman comics I used to read, where they would explicitly say on page one that this particular story is "imaginary." In the sense that in Superman's actual life it didn't really happen. I used to think there was a double bind there since Superman's entire existence is imaginary. But the idea was that given we suspend our disbelief long enough to read the comics, what we're reading is actual, yet sometimes the writers wanted to write something that was out of their imagination, beyond the given, suspended-disbelief "facts." It's confusing.

I'm using my imagination tonight, so this is an "imaginary" story, or episode in the ongoing factual (more or less) posts I've had in the last month or so.

I'm just imaging things tonight about the red tape the industrial powers could cause me if they really decided to clamp down. Let's set aside the actual fact that they're sidelined presently and that they were shamed into leaving me alone by a column Paul Krugman wrote. What if they came back? What if they did?

If they came back, I'm imagining they could cause me all kinds of further problems, including plenty of red tape. The way I define red tape is the ability to gum up my life, entangling me in bureaucracy or by legal shenanigans. They could get government on my case, since they're all in league with one another. They could get a team of high priced lawyers on me, turning my life into a Kafkaesque nightmare, worse than it already is.

I might go to get a driver's license -- let's just imagine things beyond normal experience -- and I would need two or three forms of ID, including a birth certificate, a marriage certificate (if I was married), my original Social Security card, my high school diploma, my 5th grade report card, and the cast that was on my leg in 4th grade. All of that. And guess what? I actually do have the cast that was on my leg in 4th grade -- who wouldn't keep something like that? But some of the other stuff, it might be tough to come up with. Like a birth certificate.

I might show up at the grocery store, in this little red tape scenario, and things wouldn't work. My debit card, my checks, gift cards, even cash ... none of it would be any good. Because they have an in with the distributors and with the store's chain itself.

Then the same kind of red tape would be awaiting me everywhere else, at the doctor, the dentist, the swimming pool, even at church. I'd put my check in the plate and it'd pop back out. I'd try to put it in the minister's hand, only to have him cross himself and scurry up the bell tower. Nothing would go right. The industrialists would be looking in the church windows, Jesus' eyes being hollowed out for that express purpose.

I'd come home and Grandma might be a different person, Underbrush a different dog, my house moved and a different one on the foundation. Maybe even a different foundation!

The industrialists. They're a dreaded enemy, a terrible opponent. The ancient wisdom says you want your opponent to always be at his best. But these guys, their best might be a lot better than what I can counter with. If they're at their best and I'm still at my average everyday level, that would be a problem for me.

But no matter, I'm ready for the red tape. I'm ready for their best ... or their worst. I will not back down. I will take these guys on day after day, as long as I'm in the mood for a good fight. And I haven't flagged from it yet.

My imagination ran wild, that's true. But I hope that's the way it stays, just in the imagination. If everything goes even half of what I've imagined, it will be bad. So I'm going to be hoping for a lot less than half. And maybe I'll get it!

An Anti-Industrialist Reflects

Looking back over the last month, I've been very busy. It's remarkable how really concentrating on something, like I have with industry, the industrial sections of our towns, and the industrial powers, can make you an expert on it, and perhaps the leading expert. But it's true!

I did just a cursory search around the internet, limiting my searches to my own blog, and I've frankly been amazed at how many hits I'm getting that take me to my own writings on the subject, including various pronouncements and opinions.

Just looking over some of my writings has revealed a lot even to me, the writer of them! One, I'm a very good speller. I'm not seeing many spelling mistakes. Two, I tend to be precise, not using a lot of ambiguous terms or allowing my sentences to be ambiguous. Three, I have a laser-like focus on whatever my subject is. That comes out of a certain discipline I've always maintained. I would've made an excellent dog, since I would have the focus it takes to chew the same bone for a month or more or until it was gone, whichever came first.

Then getting into the meat of the goodie -- one of Grandpa's old phrases from his hickory nut cracking days -- what I've written on the actual subject, industry, etc., has set a new standard for tackling a particular topic and tackling it well. I can look back and see that I have tackled it from different points of views, all of them good, and that once I got it thoroughly tackled I haven't let it elude my grasp. There have been no false starts, no detours, no swaying, no veering away, either to the left or to the right.

None of this just happens. And so I've felt that it would be a good idea to reflect on what's happened and what's still going on to this day. It's taken a lot of determination to get the job done, or, to see it through on an ongoing basis as the job is still being done. There's still a long ways to go, whether it's a matter of exhausting the topic, becoming bored with it, or what have you. I fully intend to defeat industry, that's my full intention. But whether I do or I do not, industry will know it's had a nemesis like none other! As already expressed, I would've made an excellent dog.

Today I'm reflecting -- and tomorrow I might reflect a little more. Then, once the time of reflection is through, it'll be "Back to Work," lambasting and taking to task those I feel are destroying society and the world, those I feel must be themselves completely destroyed, industrial interests, the industrial powers, and industry itself.

A Reliquary Of Anti-Industrialist Antipathy

My blog has fast become the world's reliquary of anti-industrialist antipathy.

I'm hosting it, archiving it, watching it stream in from its broad spectrum in the world and zero down to the vanishing point of a single light (or sometimes, a dark spot.)

We're trying to keep it virtual, because there's no room for storing big relics. Like if we find a tree limb down at the edge of an industrial section somewhere, the result of industrial sprawling blight, we will be content to have a digital photo of it. The tree limb itself, it probably should go without saying, would be too much for us to handle. Not one tree limb, especially, but one implies there could be more than one. Even a printed photo takes up room, filing space, however valuable it might be for study involving a magnifying glass. Digital photos take a little room, but you can get quite a few on a hard drive.

The same principles are going to be true for the other relics of industrial blight. We can't bring in a speeding truck and put it in the reliquary. That's going to need to be digitized somehow, so thank you for understanding.

The other thing -- beyond the relics of industrialism per se -- is what we are able to produce by way of study, making proclamations, speeches, slide shows, news articles, and blog posts, expressive of our concerted antipathy toward industrialism and the industrial powers. A lot of this starts out digitally. We could then print it out and scan it, making it digital again in a circular process. But why we would want to do that would be anyone's guess.

Please, anything you contribute to the reliquary, keep it digital, or as small as possible. If you can't produce a digital likeness of the object, something small with a description will be accepted. Perhaps the pointed tip of a leaf, just as an example, in the case of a downed tree. Or a single blade of grass if you find grass sucked down into the mud and wish to document it.

Local Man Sissifies Industrial Powers

Now that would be a headline! I dare the Daily News to run that headline! Chickens! Buck, buck, buck! Ha, ha, I got ya there!

I love to taunt these so-called journalists, who are so busy feathering their nest with industrial kickbacks and payoffs that they can't be bothered to cover a story any more in depth than the Garden Club's latest plantings. Oh, I take that back. There was a really hard hitting story the other day (more like a puff piece) on the "Employee of the Month" out at the local monster truck tire factory. As many peons as bite the dust out there on a daily basis, mucking out the blast furnaces, they should rename the award the "Surviving Employee of the Month." Everyone has a chance to win it by process of elimination, and I mean that literally.

But what if I were to sissify the industrial powers, or to have the newspaper describe my agitating actions as such? That'd be great, to illustrate the article with a few pictures of the head honchos out there in little dresses and girly shoes, LOL! With a flat codpiece -- is that what you'd call it? -- covering up their lower quandrants! It makes me laugh!

There could be some major shriveling going on, or cutting down to size, to get these blasted powers into their little dresses, with their little purses, and their little shoes, walking down the lily path all the way to music lessons. That's quite a picture!

A guy can dream, can't he? A big strapping industrial chief with his little purse and mincing steps headed for music lessons! LOL!

Local Man Takes On Industrial Powers

That's the headline that should be in the Daily News but isn't, something like, "Local Man Takes On Industrial Powers," "Local Man Challenges Industrial Powers," or "Local Man Sissifies Industrial Powers." Anything would be better than nothing, but nothing is about what I have.

I could use some help here! How is one local man, without the benefit of publicity and a public rallying around him, supposed to bring down the entire industrial complex and restore the world to its proper dignity? I'm starting to think maybe they're all in this together against me, just like they're against us all.

Surely someone in the media knows about my struggle by now. I've been going at it incessantly for a month or so. I've had the industrial powers breathing down my neck for a good two weeks. I've stood against them even as they've stationed both chiefs and underlings in my pussy willow trees, and as they've shot fireballs over my roof, which thankfully wasn't made out of thatch.

Of course just looking through the pages of the paper tells part of the answer, the advertising the paper gets from the various industries, or the other civic positions these vipers have wormed their way into. When the upper crust gets together, the rest of us suffer.

I do have my worldwide outreach here at the blog, which is great, but still, a few hits from France, Sweden, Russia, and Mauritius really isn't going to bring these cretins to their knees, no matter how much I wish otherwise. There's power in numbers, and numbers I haven't got.

Still, there's been plenty of other do-gooders in history who've had to stand alone. Then after they've been crucified, hung, or shot to death, after a few decades or centuries they're vindicated. So maybe that's what I have to look forward to, a quick death, then in years to come they'll make a holiday for me. They could get rid of Columbus Day, which is an idiotic holiday, and replace it with mine, and that'd be OK. I like October, just as an aside.

I would love to see some more publicity for this worthwhile cause. How is my assassin going to know about me if he doesn't read about me in the paper?

Do The Industrialists Know About Mauritius?

It's conceivable that there are places on Earth that are so obscure that even the industrial powers haven't heard of them, or if they have heard of them, maybe they're too far from the mainstream to tempt them to establish themselves there.

I know it's that way with small towns that are far from an interstate highway. The industrialists don't especially want to go there and put in a big factory or plant. Even though they may have a railroad, they're still thinking of all the stuff they're going to need to transport by truck. And they want more "bang for their buck," which you can only get with a decent interstate highway. On the smaller county highways, or on gravel roads, or even minimum maintenance dirt roads, they can't get up to speed, and "time is money," to coin a phrase.

The same thing probably goes for entire countries. The United States of course is one of the "major players" in the world. And there's a few other countries like that, behemoths when it comes to being a country, which the industrialists immediately notice and latch on to. Then there are the countries you literally have to look up to find out even where they are. That's what I was talking about yesterday when I referred to Mauritius.

I had a man visit the Grandma Slump blog who was from Mauritius. And I'll probably get lots more now, because I imagine people there are constantly Googling the name of their country to see who may have mentioned them. That and dodo birds, which were from there but became extinct 400 years ago. Still, that doesn't keep them from having Dodo Days, with a big parade and a grand marshal.

Anyway, this man visited my site. And I've been giving this a lot of thought since yesterday, wondering why. Could he be an industrialist looking for obscure countries to exploit, that heretofore have been left alone? Could it be a turncoat Mauritian who's looking to sell his country out for 30 pieces of silver by bringing big industry in? Could it be -- and I hope it is -- a local man from that land who's educating himself about the dangers of industrialism and looking for ways to keep his country safe?

Anyway, friend or foe, let me address him: We in the United States and the other major players have been overrun by industry. Industrial sections have taken over large parcels of land in our cities and towns. They act like they own the place, and that the rest of us are peons on their plantation. They're no reasoning with them, because their power is so great it's their way to simply roll over the rest of us.

You will do well to steer yourselves far away from this fate.

Men Everywhere Stand Against The Industrialists

It does my poor heart good to check out my traffic at this blog once in a while. Because it's great to see, despite the appearances here on the half acre, with it being just me and Grandma, that I actually don't stand alone.

Somehow my internet signal is being beamed out to the entire world, at least to a selective few out there who have just the right aerials and other receiving devices. The statistics seen above prove it, that one here and one there, and a few in other places are getting their news right from the horse's mouth, here on the Grandma Slump blog.

The chart shows my worldwide outreach from April 7 through May 7, 2010, this year. And that's the last month, during which I have been doing a lot of teaching -- nothing but -- on the industrial powers and the industrial sections of our towns. All these people have been getting the straight scoop on what's going on, and, like I said, that does my poor heart good!

I'm greatly encouraged, because, going by the "birds of a feather" rule, it is my assumption that all of these men from around the world agree with me. Yes, I know a few of the hits had to come from the industrialist enemies, many of whom were monitoring my blog locally, who then staked out positions in my yard and trees and oppressed me for the last couple of weeks. That is, they were oppressing me until Paul Krugman shamed them the other day. With that shaming, the chiefs and underlings all abandoned their stations in my pussy willow trees, and I haven't seen them since.

Of course the hits from the enemies had to come by and large from the United States, since that's where I'm currently stationed. Our house has been in the United States ever since I can remember, from before the time I was born. I'm very sure it's indigenous to these parts, with the foundation apparently made of bricks made with American clay. There's definitely no other records that I know of, and with Grandpa's death in the late '70s, some of the history will never be fully told. Certainly, whatever the other facts are, the chiefs and underlings were here in America.

Look again at that list. It's impressive! 18 from the United Kingdom! I mention it especially because that's where the Industrial Revolution was discovered. A bunch of industrial revolutionaries got together and caused a violent overthrow of the previous system of tinkerers, cobblers, and craftsmen. I believe it was the tinkerers who became depressed and killed themselves. And if memory serves, the cobblers were the ones who fell into a vat of something and were liquefied. A few craftsmen remained to tell the tale.

So think of how important my outreach is to the men of the United Kingdom. They're on the front lines of this despicable history, so of course they're hungry for information. Along with the other stuff they eat, mostly fish and chips.

The Netherlands is represented on the list by four men. That's a good start and very heartening, because I've always had a great respect for that country, if it's the one I'm thinking of, with the finger in the dike and all that.

Then there's Russia, who used to get their false information from Pravda, but now fortunately are able to peek under the Iron Curtain and tap into the truth I present. I've got three hits from Russia.

Canada has three. India two. I believe I heard this was the big year for the Kumbha Mela, so I'm happy that two men (or one man twice) took time out from the ritual bathing and guru-following long enough to read my posts.

There was one man from Pakistan, and I sincerely hope it wasn't the New York terrorist or any of his henchmen. There's got to be normal men in Pakistan, too, right?

The Philippines is represented by one man. So with 3000 islands making up that nation, I need quite a few more to get one from each island. That'd be wild, wouldn't it? To live in a country that's 3000 islands! I'd guess 5th grade geography would be tough, having to memorize that many places.

The Swedes, the Aussies, and the French have been here one, one, and one times, respectively. To whom I'd love to say "Hi" in their native languages.

The last ones on the list include one man from Saudi Arabia. Maybe a very rich oil sheik. The Saudis have the right idea about where to get oil, under the sand. It's certainly a lot cleaner than getting it from the Gulf of Mexico.

The very last one on the list is Mauritius. This one I'm going to have to look up. Cool, Wikipedia says it's an island nation off the coast of Africa in the southwest Indian Ocean, about 560 miles east of Madagascar. I guess that's cool. It sounds very far away, but it's still cool, especially because at one time this was where the dodo bird lived, last in the 1600s.

It's a good thing it went extinct back then, because the industrialists would've definitely killed them off anyway in more recent times if they'd had half a chance! The fact that I have a man from Mauritius reading my blog gives me the hope we might find some dodo DNA and be able to reconstitute one in a laboratory, if we can make an egg, find a male dodo to fertilize it, then determine the exact incubation time needed to hatch it.

The world and all its men are rising up against the industrial powers, with me leading the way! Thank you for standing with me in this important work!

The Railroads And The Industrial Powers

Yesterday I examined, preliminarily, the industrial powers and the railroads. But there's also the subject of the railroads and the industrial powers, involving the same parties but looking at things from the opposite point of view.

Whether they are legitimately paired or not is still up for debate. But the circumstantial evidence is at least compelling, even if after further examination the surface appearances do not lead to anything that bears up under greater scrutiny.

Still, there's this side and that side, looked at from this side. Then there's that side and this side, looked at from that side. And that's the way I want to do it today, because I'm as fair as a person can be.

Just to review, from what I can remember from yesterday, there seems to be something of a pairing, of the railroads together with the various industrial sections of our towns. Unless it's simply a coincidence that industrial sections just happen to be next to railroads and conversely railroads just happen to be next to industrial sections.

I really could wonder which came first, although I think I know the answer to that. The railroads came first, when the first engineer was looking for a job. He said, "How can I have a job as an engineer when there aren't any trains?" So the train companies set out some tracks and the railroads were born. And because the circular tracks are only good for toy trains, they extended the tracks so they would reach across the country. I remember hearing about it when I was a kid. They were so glad the tracks were in place they pounded a golden spike to celebrate it.

Then, the way I believe it, towns were formed along the railroads. And because tinkerers, cobblers, and craftsmen needed a way to get their goods to market, before the invention of the truck, they put their little shops next to the railroad line. I'm assuming it happened this way.

Later, the first industrialist, who thought about consolidating the tinkerers and cobblers, then went about buying out their interests, hiring them to work for his company, he likewise needed the railroad to move his goods. It wasn't long after that that the industrial section sprawl, all that blight that we know so well, got underway. The tinkerers were depressed and killed themselves. The cobblers fell into a vat of something and were liquefied. The industrialists crushed everyone in sight, keeping a big grin on their blasted faces.

So, we can assume the railroads were innocent enough at first, although to make money of course they needed business along the tracks besides passenger travel. So they weren't entirely innocent. In fact, we might say that innocent is the last thing they were, because if it weren't for the railroads, it's arguable the tinkerers and cobblers would still be our manufacturing base. To get their goods to market, they could've figured out some other way, maybe a pedicab, especially the cobblers.

There definitely seems to be a real synergy there between the two, the industrial powers and the railroads ... although I should have said the railroads and the industrial powers, today especially, since that's the angle I'm looking at the whole subject from. I want to keep it real.

The Industrial Powers And The Railroads

I was down at a big railroad terminal today nosing around, trying to ferret out the connection, if any, between the industrial powers and the railroads.

We tend to have a romantic view of the railroads, because that's the way we're indoctrinated. My parents, and even my grandparents, were a part of this, I'm guessing unknowingly. They like to give Baby a "choo choo train," to push or pull it around the room while going "Choo choo" in that silly, yet excusable, baby voice. One time I saw a baby who pulled his "choo choo train" around the room, oblivious to the fact that it wasn't rolling on its wheels but he was pulling it on its side. That was one very stupid kid! On the other hand he was only one, so I'll be merciful, I guess, and say, "Live and learn."

And yet ... and yet ... who were the stupid ones? Was it the kid, or could it have been his parents? Here I need to cut a little slack, because if I go down this track all the way, I'll be implicating my own parents. Which I refuse to do this close to Mother's and Father's Day. Any other time of the year, yes. It wasn't the kid's fault that he was pulling a "choo choo train" around the room in the first place; it was the parents' fault! They're the ones who were so uninformed and unthinking about the possible relationship between the industrial powers and the railroads.

So like I said, I was down at this railroad hub, this gathering spot for trains of all sizes and types, doing a little nosing around, some investigating, trying to determine if there is indeed any relation between the industrial powers and the railroads. What I found was amazing.

I found that there are railroad tracks going along the edge of the industrial section of town, then in places there are tracks that veer off from the main line actually into the industrial section. I would love to see it from the air, because then my study and conclusions would probably be accomplished quicker. As it was, I was still able to discern that there does truly appear to be a relationship, or, to be more accurate, there was at one time. As there were no trains coming through in the time I was there, I can't be sure that the relationship is ongoing.

Still, think about it, there are trains that go through town everyday. And the industrial section, of course, is always there. The track goes right by the industrial section, meaning at least -- and this is a major point -- the trains definitely have to go that way, being that close to the industrial section.

Going a little further, I examined the tracks. I noticed that the main line, what appeared to be the main line, was a very shiny iron, with very little rust. Then some of the side tracks also presented the same sheen, barely any rust. Then there were other side tracks, adjacent to buildings that seemed to be more or less abandoned, that were much more rusty. I let these facts soak in for a while. I went back to my car and gave Underbrush a doggie biscuit. I myself had a Triscuit and a Thermos cup of cold water.

While munching, I thought it over long and hard. Rust or no rust? Buildings that seem to be in daily use and buildings that appear to be abandoned? What could be the relationships involved? How much easier it would be if about a dozen trains all showed up at the same time? Or if someone had some time lapse films of the deed being done.

I munched on the Triscuits until my jaw was sore. Underbrush looked at me intently, making me feel guilty for leaving her Thermos at home. Still, you're a dog. Drink out of a ditch or something. As I munched I started thinking about the relationship of rusty and non-rusty tracks to the Lord. You can spiritualize it like this:

Lord, I've been going over the tracks of my life as it's been lived thus far. There were many times I was going along in a good way. And the tracks of my life were very shiny, no rust at all. Then there were other times, hard to explain, when I expected them to be rust-free, yet when I look back on them I see they were very rusty. Why is it that in those toughest times I had to endure all that rust? When you, Lord, certainly know that I would've preferred the better, shinier tracks! I felt like I was offended. It was just then that the Lord appeared unto me, and He said, "My son, I never abandoned you to the rusty tracks of life, but they were there. When the tracks were shiny, you were going along very well. But, my son, when they were rusty, those were the times I was carrying you on my flatcar!"

So the message there is that there are metaphoric railroad tracks, which are good ... and there are literal railroad tracks, which are not necessarily good, because the industrial powers appear to be using them, with the intent being the ruin of the world. The railroads, if this is true, are in cahoots with the industrial powers, ultimately going toward their own destruction.

I will be watching. When it's least expected, I will be there, to see if some of my assumptions (and fears) are true, that there is an ongoing relationship between the industrial powers and the railroads. If there is, I will examine it and what it means.

Industry Cannot Be Allowed To Self-Regulate

There's a lot of big time media voices joining their voices with mine in an attempt to take down industry. Speaking only for myself, I'd love to whittle down the industrialists to size, to pay them back for the years of misery that society has endured at their hands.

It seems like an impossible task, when you drive by the industrial section of town and see the blight, the sprawling blight that they've caused. And that's just on land. In recent weeks we've been reminded that these blasted so-and-so's are busy polluting, despoiling, and defiling the waterways too. There's nothing they won't damage in pursuit of the almighty dollar!

A couple days ago, media giant Paul Krugman made an excellent point when he said, "[M]odern technology and industry can all too easily inflict horrific damage on the planet." He was speaking about the planet. That's a pretty wide view of things. They don't just inflict horrific damage on a few well-screened, fenced off acres in the bad part of town, though that would be bad enough. They are busy ruining the entire planet, the only planet we have to live on!

Today I was watching "Hardball" on MSNBC and Chris Matthews asked the question whether we could allow industry to self-regulate. Even Pat Buchanan, one of the biggest sticks in the mud in the history of sticks and mud, agreed that industry needs to be regulated. That they can't be allowed to do it themselves, because obviously they're incapable of governing their affairs in any way, shape, or form with an interest toward the public good. They're just after money, and they'll cut any corner in the process.

Now, a great question would be, after they ruin this planet where they plan on spending their big money. We've barely made inroads into outer space, and some of the ins and outs of the various economies up there are still among the things we don't know. Whether they take Earth's currency in their trading deals is still seriously open to question. So it's something of a big gamble to both be ruining the Earth and hoarding money for transactions in outer spaces communities. Let's just say they don't accept our money. The industrialists will have a fortune that proves to be worthless.

The only conclusion is that industry needs to be regulated -- and it's just my own personal opinion that they ought to be regulated right out of business. Then we can go back to kinder, gentler times, when men called tinkers, cobblers, and the like made things for sale. A cobbler, just as an example, might have a vent leading out of his bathroom, to vent off the normal everyday smells from the toilet. But they didn't have a smokestack venting black smoke from blast furnaces. Nor did tinkers ever ruin the Gulf of Mexico for a thousand years with an oil slick the size of Asia.

Our media giants are seeing the light. And it's about time. I welcome their voices to this discussion, even as I continue to carry the banner.

I'm Kind Of Lonely Without The Industrialists

Like I said yesterday, Paul Krugman came out with a column, lambasting the industrialists.

He said, in part, and I quote:

modern technology and industry can all too easily inflict horrific damage on the planet.

That's powerful stuff. Coincidentally it's exactly what I myself have been saying for the last few weeks or month. That "modern technology and industry can all too easily inflict horrific damage on the planet." There's not a syllable in that phrase that I couldn't have said myself.

Indeed, you put the two together, modern technology and industry, and you've got a lethal combination. Because each one of these eschews a leash. Modern technology just rolls on. It's no accident that you can't buy the same thing twice, whether it's a computer, a radio, or a toaster. Two weeks after you buy it, that's model's been retired and they've gone on to something else. Just like Beanie Babies from a few years back, always "retiring" them. We've got a million Beanie Babies retired and on Social Security, and that's what's bankrupting our country.

Modern technology, simply put, is on a tear. Because we have so many people involved in it, making a killing. There's no holding it back, and no one's trying.

Then the other thing in Krugman's (and by extension, my pairing) is industry. Industry is entrenched. That's a basic fact. It's like thistles in a field, once rooted and spreading it's hard to kill. It becomes entangled in the affairs of each community, then too big to kill. Industry becomes very old, in the sense that it gets established. Then it's hard to regulate it because regulations seldom affect it, thanks to grandfathering provisions. So industry has many reasons why it can thumb its nose at us.

We've gone beyond the industrialists' demand that I apologize to them, and in part, I'm thinking, this is thanks to Krugman's column. Because they have felt something that they don't usually feel, which is shame. So they've pulled back and retracted their tentacles, at least temporarily. Out of shame, because Krugman has a voice that people listen to, even making presidents quake in their boots.

Anyway, all I know is that as soon as his column came out, the industrialists and their underlings were gone from my yard. And it's definitely true, there was nothing I could do to root them out previous to that. They were literally sleeping in my trees and monitoring my every move. They were shooting fireballs over my house, making me glad I didn't have a grass thatched roof.

Now, though, and I know this sounds crazy, I'm a little lonely for them. I was having some good times sneaking out and thwarting them. Now, though, just to step out in my empty yard and see nothing in the trees except leaves and tree sap, there's a real empty feeling to it.

But do I want to be terrorized by industrialists? No, of course not. Still, sometimes you get used to certain conditions, good or bad, and when they're changed, it's something to adjust to.

NY Times Guy Also Laments Industrial Section

My cause, rallying all mankind against the industrial sections of our cities and towns, got a welcome boost today from New York Times columnist Paul Krugman.

That's big stuff! He writes for one of the biggest papers in the world. Thousands of avid opinion readers hang on his every word. When he says something, even presidents quake in their boots, as well they should. Because he has a lot of moxie on the ball when it comes to writing. I agree wholeheartedly with his opinions, especially when he's in agreement with me, as he was today.

Check out the following little paragraph, from a little column called "Drill, Disaster, Denial":

For the gulf blowout is a pointed reminder that the environment won’t take care of itself, that unless carefully watched and regulated, modern technology and industry can all too easily inflict horrific damage on the planet.

He's writing about an actual event, something that happened the other day and is still in the process of happening, since they haven't gotten it cleaned up yet. A big oil derrick or oil boom or gas station down there in the Gulf of Mexico blew itself all to smithereens, leaving a lot of spewed oil everywhere, which is proving that oil and water don't mix, since it's spreading far and wide, hither and thither, and making a gigantic mess.

What's the basic problem there? That industry is a rapacious monster, seeking its way at our expense, with no expense spared. The key part of that paragraph, in my opinion, I shall repeat: "modern technology and industry can all too easily inflict horrific damage on the planet." That's what I've been saying for the last (almost a) month!

Industry is bad enough on dry land. We get up in the morning and look out the window. And what do we see? In my town, the smokestacks of a monster truck tire factory, belching out black smoke so much that it blocks out the sun. Then at night they lower the entire works down into a hole in the ground, while men, looking like ants, scurry around mucking it out and getting it ready for the next day. Men are lost on a daily basis, but it's all in a day's work. So that's bad.

Just imagine if we turned over the seas to these greedy, heartless so-and-so's! They'll gladly chew up the land and the sky. You can just imagine what they'd do with the waterways. Well, we don't have to wonder, because it's already been done. They're down there with a big tottering oil derrick. A couple of guys get drunk. They're twisting knobs, taking knobs entirely off the apparatus, and in their drunken condition, they're skimming them across the ocean, seeing how many bounces they can get. Then they go off duty, the next guys come on, the knobs are missing, the thing is overheating, then they can't turn it off, and it blows.

So what do we get? An oil spill the size of a continent, all out of one or more mistreated spigots.

And to think these blasted industrialists have been trying to get me to apologize for "insulting" them! Well, they deserved it! And some of them know it! The ones who've been guarding my house and harassing me, even sleeping in the tress, they've retreated, probably out of shame. So I'm back home, back posting, and feeling quite free to state my mind.

That's what happens when a guy with a massive soapbox like Paul K. starting spreading the gospel of anti-industrialism. People start listening, heads roll, presidents quake in their boots, and I'm back in business!

The Industrial Revolution

There was a big revolution in the 1800s, called the Industrial Revolution.

This is a revolution that we could've very well lived without. Because it brought in all the decay and dismal dealings that made up the proto-industrial section of the world. The proto gave way to the present, so now, out of those despicable roots, we have one industrial section after another.

How great it must've seemed to the people at the time, not knowing the bitter fruit that would result from this revolution. They suddenly had a way of turning out finished products without lifting a finger. Just turn on the machine, sit back and watch.

But I can well imagine how it went, the first little whiff of pollution that escaped that first factory. They said, "How quaint, a little puff of dirty smoke just went out the window. We need to open the window further." Everyone laughed and that was it. Next thing they had a bigger puff of smoke and someone said, "We need a pipe to carry it above our particular building." That is, it was a very localized problem, not even a problem, really, but a source of pride, "Our puff of smoke is bigger than yours." Finally, of course, the whole city was so overrun with pollution that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, and all the white moths turned black. Which is why we have black moths to this day, as a testimony to the filth in the air in that day,

If someone, perhaps a prophet, would've stood up and decried it all, it might not have made a difference, for the heart of man is deceitfully wicked, but at least we would've had it on record, the realization that I have today, that there is terrible evil in the industrial sections of the world.

And just like today, the prophet would've been ridden out of town on a rail, which they were just in the process of inventing, so they'd have one to ride people out of town on. I have to be careful. The industrial powers are sleeping in my trees and clogging up my internet today. But back then they would've been sleeping in the other prophet's trees and clogging up his telegraphy system. So that he'd be reduced to the stratagem of dressing like his grandmother and riding to the outskirts of town to send a simple telegram! It's the same story with me, writing this blog post at the college in Grandma's discarded dress!

Well, the cat's out of the bag! The toothpaste has left the station! And we have only ourselves to blame, in addition to the millions of people all along the way since the Industrial Revolution, who put their own convenience and lusts ahead of the common good. They dropped the ball in their day, just as we continue to drop it in our own. Except for me, the prophet who eschews everything that the industrialists put forth.

If I could go back in time and nip the Industrial Revolution in the bud, I would, in a heartbeat. Then I would wake up with the satisfaction today, perhaps unknown to all but myself along, that I made a way for the world to go back to craftsmanship and tinkers and spared it all the pollution we suffer from the industrial sections, as well as sparing weeds and grass everywhere the indignity of being sucked down into the mud by speeding trucks passing by.

There'll never be another first chance to destroy the Industrial Revolution. That train left the station a long time ago! But we can make up for lost time, if only we will, and destroy the bitter fruits of that terrible revolution in our own town, then perhaps the whole world.

God being our help, we shall!

The Industrial Powers Can Take An Old Cold Tater And Wait

Grandpa used to always say, "Take an old cold tater and wait," one of his many quaint sayings that he must've heard on the radio when he was a young man.

He always told me that back then they treated the radio kind of like we treat a TV, except it just had a big round lighted dial that they sat there and looked at, he said. He heard a lot of programs back then, and he remembered the names of some of them with a lot of fondness.

Eventually, though, video killed the radio star, all the radio stars gave up the ghost, and all the radio dials went dark. You can still see a few in antique stores. I always thought it'd be cool to turn on an old radio from Grandpa's day and have it play an old show ... but they probably pick up whatever's in the air, the latest thing, of course.

The radios we have today are made in the industrial section of a town somewhere, which is a strike against them. But I think "back in the day," when they made Grandpa's radio, they did it lovingly in a little shop. You had a tinker and the tinker's son, with their cute little hammers and curl-toed shoes, and they'd lovingly put all the pieces together. The tinker's son would blow some hot air on the inside of the dial and wipe out any dust and fingerprints, because they knew their customers would be staring at that dial for a good long time.

Then they'd hook up the magical insides of the radio, including an antenna that was a box on a rotating pivot, upper and lower pivots, and it was these insides that would make the radio magically play all those beloved shows that provoked all the staring. They had tubes back then and you had wait for them to get orange. There wasn't any instant on.

We had some interesting things about the TV when I was a kid, that I could regale today's kids with, if any of them would come around and listen. I used to listen to Grandpa, but no one listens anymore. All the kids are busy driving by in their convertibles, which they father paid for, and which they're probably going to wreck, because all of them are drunk. They haven't got time to listen to me tell about what happened when you turned off an old fashioned TV, how there was a diminishing dot in the middle that lingered maybe 40 seconds after the TV was powered off. Yet it's a darned good story!

OK, I must move on ... All that to say that Grandpa probably heard the phrase, "Take an old cold tater and wait" on the radio. It's definitely a phrase that stuck with him and one he swore by. He was comfortable saying it, anytime there was any waiting to be done. He probably thought of it mentally without saying it aloud anytime the subject of waiting came up.

Well, this is my day, and what I'm saying in my day is the same thing they said back in Grandpa's day, "Take an old cold tater and wait!" I'm saying that to the industrial powers, who are demanding an apology out of me. I've sworn it once and I'll swear it again, there will be no apology, not now, not ever.

What was my big offense, really? That I dared speak up as an American citizen with an opinion? Saying that the industrial section of the town is defiled and evil? That their pollution is such that they block out the sunlight on a daily basis? And that their trucks speed by and suck the grass and weeds down into the mud? It happens! It's unsanitary!

But because I said all that -- and posted a few pictures of tires piled up, etc. -- they've been seriously on my case for the last couple of weeks. Get off my case! You want an apology? Here's an apology: I'm sorry, but there's no apology coming! Heh, heh, that's a good one.

I don't feel sorry, not in the least. With all the machinations these blasted industrialists have put me through in the last couple of weeks, in fact I'm more intransigent and dug in than I was before! Maybe they could've wheedled something out of me a couple weeks ago, had they acted nicely. But fireballs shot over the roof of my house and industrial vandalism to my internet hook-up, and so forth, has only hardened me in my position. I'm completely dug in now.

So you want an apology? Grandpa said it best, and I can only repeat it, "Take an old cold tater and wait!" Heh, heh, that'll hold 'em. Let 'em wait!