Jack Burns Lives!

2009 wasn’t a great year for a lot of folks, but overall, I’ll give it a C-. We got rid of the Bush Crime Family, and while the replacement seems only marginally better, he is better. At least our President doesn’t stumble over his words like a third grader that just got caught throwing spitballs or pulling a little girl’s hair.

Cracks started developing on Wall Street, as the great mother ship of our capitalist dreams took on water and listed heavily to port. One can look ahead and hope the Peak Oil tsunami will finally finish it off.

One child finished his undergrad while yet another started grad school. I’m enormously proud of both, as each have chosen non-destructive paths that will reward them personally while contributing to their communities.

Many lost their jobs in 2009, but my own capitalist endeavor did quite well. I’m not proud of being a successful capitalist, but the horse is out of the barn, and I have to do something to pay the rent. I am proud of constructing a democratic workplace that fosters creativity and freedom. I hope that the unemployed will find meaningful work in 2010, but I believe it’s going require decisive action by our President for things to improve. He’ll have to start acting more like FDR than a Wall Street puppet.

My garden was a disappointment, but in failure there is learning. I won’t make the same mistakes this spring.

I didn’t ride my bike enough, but I will improve and ride regularly in 2010. No more blaming it on cold weather or the paltry 24 miles (round trip). And I’m proud to announce our little firm will reward its employees with extra vacation days for accruing commuting miles in 2010. You can earn extra days for simply riding your bike to work.

Most Americans, it seems, won’t do what’s good for the planet unless there’s “something in it for them.” Nevermind the kids and grandkids, the lynx, the polar bear or the eagle. There’s got to be some tangible benefit now and for the person that put forth the “effort,” otherwise, the same old selfish behaviors endure. On the whole, we’re a pretty selfish, apathetic lot.

More goals for 2010? No air travel. Save more. Give more away. More hiking, writing, reading and birding. More time with friends and family. Finding new and inventive ways to be a speed bump on the road to “progress,” especially locally. Better yet, a barrier.

I was extremely discouraged by two major losses in late 2008 and early 2009. A road through a forest two miles from my home and the loss of a wetland on the riverfront. It’s doubtful anything can change the tide against these sorts of developments other than a horrible economy. I’m definitely in the minority, but I hope capital and credit remains as frozen as Denali in winter. Once the back room deals are done between the developers, bankers, lawyers and politicians, it’s game, set, match. Only after these deals are brokered do you ever see notices of “public hearing,” spectacles that are often little more than announcements for what will happen, not what is “proposed.”

Yet, we can cause them all sorts of troubles in the media and make them spend far more on studies and lawyers than what they’d planned. And with today’s thin margins, enough trouble might kill a project.

My grandmother taught me to be kind to people and to always be willing to help others. Approaching 50 years of age, I still agree with that, although with a caveat. I believe those that willfully destroy our home and that bring death and destruction to humans and non-humans deserve condemnation in the strongest terms. They’ve earned public obloquy and scorn. They don’t deserve pleasantries or even common courtesy.

Is that being an asshole? Perhaps. But isn’t destroying the planet so you can live a life of opulence worse? I say it is.

We need more Ed Abbey’s in 2010. People willing to be curmudgeons or “assholes” when necessary. People willing to stand up and say “We’ve had it with this shit!” Folks are too scared to be political or vocal for fear of being ostracized and it “affecting their business.” And to that, I say, you’re as bad, if not worse, than the guy plowing through the forest. Don’t be a coward. A coward that stands by and watched voiceless, defenseless animals lose their home.

I suppose we also need some silent operators. Undercover types that stay under the radar and infiltrate the enemy. They can leak information to the press and environmental groups. And we also need “moderates.” People that can’t easily be marginalized as “radicals.”

It takes all types to slow the tide.

So, in 2010, I vow to be more like Edward Abbey. I promise to be a better and more vigilant defender and protector of life. I promise to stand against those that would destroy the earth for non-sustainable, capitalist gain. I promise to go to the front lines and not lurk in the shadows like an apathetic coward unwilling to act.

I consider it the pursuit of a noble life.

This started out as a piece on birds. Winter birds, as we’ve had the recent pleasure of visiting with some seasonal friends visiting during their winter vacation. Then it morphed into something else entirely, thanks to my Attention Deficit Disorder or what used to be called lack of concentration or focus. I shifted to e-mail suddenly and opened a message about Wall Street and a decade of poor stock performance.

One should never pass up a chance to read good news.

So, what was originally intended to be an essay on winter birds, turned into a rambling soliloquy on non-humans, humans and our contrasting paths in life.

…A favorite winter pastime is animal watching. Non-humans, mostly, although I have been known to observe and make careful notes about the peculiar behavior of featherless bipeds in all seasons. Seems no season is without human folly. But without question, I’ve always found non-humans much more interesting, especially avian species and much more tolerable as neighbors.

The Mississippi Delta region, my year round home, comes alive in winter with a bevy of avian species. Migratory species make their way to the Southland, usually by late December, to forage in our rich fields and in our plentiful forests. While the South may often seem devoid of progressive social mores and attitudes, it’s not devoid of the necessary elements for survival. We’re blessed with rivers and streams, in varying levels of pollution and decay, an abundance of woodlands and vegetation, rich, legendary soil and a mild climate. Nearly any creature could live here, save a few reptiles than clearly prefer and require a warmer environment.

Dixie ain’t a bad place to winter and our abundant resources are one reason I’ve chosen to remain in the South.

The Delta is most famous for its flyway, the primary migratory path for waterfowl. Hunters spend millions of dollars every fall preparing for the southeastern push where millions of Mallards, Gadwalls, Redheads and Canadian geese make their annual trek. The hunter’s job is to make sure not all of them make it back. The job of state and federal agencies is to make sure enough of ‘em make it back.

It’s a story that’s had its ups and downs. While the waterfowl population rebounded from near decimation in the 1970’s (and saw a 13% increase from 2008 to 2009), migratory avian species, like Wood thrush, Northern oriole, Golden-cheeked warbler, Scarlet tanager and Whippoorwill are now facing much grimmer prospects, thanks to deforestation. Of the 836 migratory birds under federal protection, about one quarter are in trouble.

My job is to enjoy all of it and call it like I see it. To speak the plain truth, as Edward Abbey used to say.

I grew up participating in the annual slaughter of drakes and susies, but my favorite pastime as long been observation, not killing. Especially watching songbirds. We’re blessed in winter with a host of species, including a generous population of Dark-eyed juncos. They’re usually the first to arrive, followed by Ruby-crowned Kinglets (a favorite), Golden-crowned kinglets, Sedge wren, and Brown creeper, joining our year ‘round population of Northern cardinal, Carolina wren, Black-capped and Carolina chickadee, White-breasted nuthatch, Tufted titmouse and Eastern bluebirds.

Some of our species, like the Prairie warbler, leave for the warmer, sub-tropic climate of Florida in winter, while other species, like the Common yellowthroat, stay in Florida most of the year, but find it too warm in the summer months and retreat northward to the Delta. Each species has its own, unique pattern.

Winter is the optimum season for most birders. The trees have shed their leaves and this makes the viewing easier. One can immediately and easily pick out the resplendent coat of the Northern cardinal on the stem of a leafless Dogwood. Even the grey Titmouse, usually carefully camouflaged against a steel grey sky and brownish-grey limbs, is more easily seen. But even in winter, most species are heard and not seen. It’s important to know the calls.

And all species are readily observed if you get off the couch, turn off the tee-vee and go outside. Only a few steps into your yard may reveal wonders you never know existed.

I’ve spent countless hours watching these cheerful creatures. I sometimes wonder what, if anything, goes on inside their little minds. Do they ponder us to any great extent beyond the recognition that we may be a threat? Do birds that come back to the same feeding spots, year in and year out, recognize us? I think perhaps they do.

And while humans are so busy gathering up all sorts of unneeded plastic crap and blowing up entire countries, non-humans seem content to simply gather up the necessities and go about the very real business of survival. Yes, there are territorial pissings, but you’ll never see a wren attack another wren to the point of death. An aggressive flight toward the intruder and a peck or two usually gets the message across: this patch is mine. Bugger off. And sure, other species do kill to protect territory, but humans have taken it to a whole new level.

Humans can’t stop at that, however. We have to kill if our beloved patch is invaded. Or, round-up the unwanted and place them in reservations with the threat of death should any venture beyond the approved boundary. We don’t typically fire warning shots, and I’m beginning to think we’ve developed an insatiable appetite for death and mayhem, a deplorable state that almost always coincides with economic expansion.

My wife and I were treated to a special delight on Christmas night. While traveling home from a family gathering at my brother-in-law’s we saw a Red fox scamper across the road into a patch of woods adjacent to the road. One of the few “patches” we have remaining, thanks to developers that have mowed down nearly every forest in our community. It was the first fox we’d seen in our area, although I suspected a few urban survivors were in our midst. But the elation of the sighting soon gave way to despair as we reached the end of the “property” and saw a “For Sale” sign posted adjacent to a major road.

I wondered, where will the fox go? What choices does he or she have once their home is destroyed and so few places remaining? I pictured the fox being shot at or chased as it tried to make its way through a labyrinth of steel and concrete, desperate to find a new forest.

Sigh….

When I watch birds or see animals like the fox, I often think of Ed Abbey. About the prescient nature of his words, and how he foretold most of what we’re seeing today. Except it’s even worse, I fear, than what he thought. The speed with which we’ve destroyed our home is alarming and even more alarming is the fact that we know what’s happening, We know how to fix it, yet we do not act in any meaningful or measurable way to even slow it, much less stop it.

How disheartening is it that our “hope” President left Copenhagen declaring “victory” when no firm goals and agreements were set? Real progress is stymied by greed.

Unlike non-humans that are keenly aware of their environments, that know winter is coming and know to fly south and gather food, humans do nothing. It’s analogous to flying further north where there’s less food and even fewer chances for survival. For all our science and so-called advances, we’re really, collectively, a stupid species. Watching the wren gather nesting materials and seed, I believe it perhaps lives a far superior life, and is, in fact, the more advanced species. As I sit and watch it, I wonder, what will it take for man to live as the wren?

I hear people say, “What’s happened to our country?” And to that I say, “Not much, it’s always been this way, the ugliness is just on a larger, more magnificent scale.”

Our so-called free market and democratic government have morphed into a single, ugly fascist beast. A wealthy few hold the strings of purses fattened by economic expansionism and militarism. Politicos flip back and forth from Wall Street to Washington, greasing the skids for the approved. Most of the rest (except a few steadfast anarchist holdouts like Hayduke), the so-called lucky ones, willingly jumped into the vortex of serfdom for the chance at $200K per year and the so-called good life. But that $200K comes with an unbearable price.

Did it for your kids? Why, so they’ll have a chance at jumping in with us? You never heard me telling my kids “Come on in, the water’s great!” No. I screamed, “Stay away! The water is full of sharks!”

But we have our goodies, right? iPods, iPhones, flat screens, 4 wheel drive Mastodons, lavish vacations and for many, expensive, nasty divorces. We joked about “keeping up with the Jones’” until we realized the horrible trap we’d all fallen into. That we’d become prisoners to our wealth and had no life. Not enough hiking, climbing, gardening, writing, painting or music making. All the things that make life really rich.

Even hunting beats sitting in a cubicle all day.

Myself, I would have much preferred a small rancher or cabin, nestled in a valley along side some forgotten peak. Being a teacher, a grocer or a writer. My grandfather ran a neighborhood grocery he owned. Didn’t make much money, but he made enough and had a sufficient and comfortable bungalow that was cute as a button.

I just hope I can just live out my days sitting in a rocker on a creaky front porch. Cold beer in one hand. A good book in another. Rifle propped up against the wall (in case any real estate agents, bankers or Republicans come creeping around). A good dog at my feet and the song of the wren in the air. The smell of Allison making biscuits. Fresh eggs crackling in a cast iron skillet. Hot coffee. To see and feel the breeze as it rustles through live oak and mesquite. The chirping of crickets and frogs at night. No other sounds. No leaf blowers, lawn mowers or traffic. Inside, the house is quiet except for the activity in the kitchen. A wall of books from floor to ceiling that holds my precious collection of books. Other walls holding other things precious and dear. Photos of our family. My son’s art. A nice hearth and comfortable seating. A solid table for meals. All that’s needed beyond that is the company of family and friends, perhaps a grandchild or two. Then we can share our stories of old campsites and clandestine, morally necessary activities over a square meal. We can hike the next morning up the mountain, take it all in and ponder our existence on a planet profiteers seem hell bent on destroying.

And then we die. Either with our boots as Abbey did or in some awful corporate hospital with thousand dollar tubes hanging out of every orifice.

The wren has chosen its path, and so shall we choose ours. And there’s no middle ground. Pick a side and raise your voice. Either that or get the hell out of the way. The rest of us have work to do.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park
Sunrise
12-22-09

So I’m sitting in a restaurant having lunch and cannot help but overhear a conversation taking place right next to me. Two guys, both probably in their mid-forties, talking business. Or, “b’ness” as we say in the South.

“This is how it went down. The bigwigs on the board decided to cut some overhead, so they whacked a bunch of folks. Dad’s on the board and said it was just some fat, and it would really help the dividend next time around. You should see a nice check by April.”

I realize a lot of people really believe economics is a science and enjoy discussing all sorts of sophisticated economic theories. Me, I call them masturbatory exercises in non-science. Double-talk. I mean, just ask someone to explain derivatives and what you’ll end up with is so much gobbledygook you’ll feel as if your head is going to explode. Ask an economist to give you a straight answer, with proof, that stimulus works or doesn’t work in recession and see where that gets you. It’s basically all a bunch of crap designed to provide window dressing to a system that really doesn’t work as well as we were all told back in the early days of our indoctrination.

So forget all that and listen to me. I’m just a dumb old redneck, but I think I have this one figured out: Here are the important points you should take from the conversation I overheard:

In capitalism, there are “bigwigs” or people that rule in hierarchical organizations. They rule via power and the power is gained through equity or ownership. In fact, everything in this country revolves around private property and the Constitution was set up to protect private property. It’s what those French folks call a raison d’être. Meaning, our reason for existence.

Everyone else, that means you and I (us potato peeling serfs), are the “overhead” or the “fat” that can be “whacked.” And when the bigwigs whack folks, you improve earnings, profits and dividends to the stockholders.

You’re not a human being to these types. You’re overhead. Little more than a SSN that digs into the profits the fat cats hope to pocket. My question is why do we continue to put up with this shit? Just look at what’s happening on Wall Street and with healthcare reform. Why is there no popular rebellion in this country?

Am I a pinko-commie-socialist? No, just a guy that calls it as he sees it. We can do better. We can give employees ownership, equity and a vote. We can implement a steady state economy that doesn’t rape the biosphere. We can be fair, do what’s right and all live better, less stressful lives.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Is it really any surprise that corporate enforcers are carrying out the corporate agenda in the Middle East?

These are the goons Abbey wrote about in Good News. Welcome to the future.

Those words used to refer to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, but it seems the eastern reference has now expanded to include the Caspian Sea.

“Yesterday, with the U.S. Secretary of Defense at his side, the President of Afghanistan declared that his country’s security forces will need financial and training assistance from the United States for the next 15-20 years.”

Perpetual war. Permanent occupation. Don’t be fooled by this 15-20 year bullshit. We’re there ad infinitum, or at least until the petrol runs out.

And please spare me your theoretical masturbation about the whole sordid affair. About how Obama “inherited this mess,” and hasn’t had a chance to do anything. He’s part of the act, pushed out on center stage to give the people a nice act, while all the dirty work goes on behind the curtain. Congress and our Wall Street rulers have plunged the nation into fiscal and moral bankruptcy and raped the citizenry in order to carry out a program of world economic domination. There’s no justification for any of this. We’re butchers and the only “freedom” being preserved is the freedom of wealthy people to extend their domination over humans and non-humans.

Don’t piss down my neck and tell me it’s raining, Obama.

The President announces we will continue with the theme of unilateral action and cross the border of Pakistan, if necessary, to deal with the Taliban.

I’m no fan of the Taliban, but I find our level of hubris quite startling, as apparently, we can go anywhere we wish, whenever we wish, to do whatever we wish. This is, of course, all supposedly part of the war on terror, but in reality, that’s little more than a convenient excuse to continue onward with our primary mission of consolidation and control.

Control of the Caspian Sea region for energy extraction, including Afghanistan…. It seems the only thing slowing down our march is instability brought about by rag tag collection of rabble known as the Taliban.

Why can’t our mighty military bring this group to its knees? Is Pakistan that much of a safe haven? Sounds a lot like the Federals trying to subdue the Chiricahua again, only there’s a lot more folks to round up, and they’re a lot farther away. A determined, decentralized people that know the landscape can cause all sorts of issues for a large, mechanized army.

Pakistan is the new Mexico. Afghanistan is the new Cochise Stronghold. And as it was in the late 1800′s, it’s once again all about resources.

“Anarchism is not a romantic fable but the hardheaded realization, based on five thousand years of experience, that we cannot entrust the management of our lives to kings, priests, politicians, generals, and county commissioners.”

Thanks for feeding the nation a line a bullshit only a fool would believe. And thank you, Dennis Kucinich, for telling the plain truth about things.

Sorry no one listened to the only thing worth hearing.

Nothing in the United States will ever change as long as the existing power structure is in place and growth economics is our raison d’être.

Seems there’s little more to do than focus on a few local things we can protect and improve and turn our backs on the cabal that’s hellbent on making everyone on the planet miserable. Nothing can stop them short of economic collapse or oil pushing past $200 PB.

I’d go down to Wall Street and offer prayers for collapse, but what good would that do? No one is listening and we’re basically getting skull fucked.

For now….