Fracking Up

I'm determined to have my user name at exxonmobil blog revoked. They tried to sell fracking to me and this is what I have to say:


So, in the past few years hydraulic fracking has been developed, criticized, supported, halted, expanded, attacked, legitimized, slandered, studied and popularized and this is the final word on it? Natural Gas production companies will proceed because immediately following the invention of the technology no towns were destroyed by gigantic cave ins and no aquifers ignited spontaneously? The testing phase is complete? Well, congratulations. This sounds like a junkie who wakes up after his first binge and says, "See, it's safe."
It's ironic, the fact that you would lay your argument over the delicate shoulders of a single study in the UK on a brand new, frankly inconceivable, but obviously contentious practice, not only doesn't reassure me but makes me think you sold lead paint and asbestos siding in a previous occupation. "4 out of 5 Doctors smoke Chesterfields!"

Parliament's decision to proceed at full speed until something proves them wrong only perpetuates the cart before the horse paradigm that is both a noble human characteristic and a great flaw.
If ExxonMobil were studying the environmental effects of capturing natural gas 10 FEET UNDER MY GARAGE then I'd accept the UK study as reassurance. When the scale is somewhat larger then I expect 100% consensus on the part of everyone impacted by this method, which is everyone on the continent where it is practiced. The very fact this consensus is not required is of conspicuous relevance here and only emphasizes the importance of voluntary reassuring.

I'm very suspicious of widespread industrial methods that are innocent until proven guilty. Because everyone in the nation is not qualified to study hydraulic fracking, at least in my eyes, you are guilty until you prove yourself innocent to the least among us and right now any reasonable jury would find this fracking method scantily clad in legitimate and proportionately scaled study. "Not inherently dangerous?" So, a "process of creating fissures, or fractures, in underground formations" is safe? It sounds like it compromises the integrity of the earth directly beneath the gas recovery facilities. That sounds inherently dangerous. Try again. The stakes are indeed high for our nation, too high to be influenced by a single UK study. At the very least we should wait for the results of the New York and Pennsylvania studies that ARE PART OF THE 3 YEAR FRACKING MORATORIUMS in those states. That sounds reasonable considering what is at stake. I'll turn my thermostat on low for the next three years. I promise.

Window Regulator

Preparing my 1969 Super Van for travel involves replacing the window regulators that snapped as soon as I lowered the passenger window after 5 months. That little piece of plastic cost me more than my butterfly wing cuff links. But now I know I can roll the window down to breathe in the Labrador air and hear the howl of the arctic wolf.

Hipsters On the Loose

"You can't stop getting old but you can be immature as long as you want."

My Cufflinks Are Made From Butterfly Wings

It took a lot of work to say those words and tell the truth. A lot of work to sound completely insane. I found my 1950s vintage tuxedo shirt to use in the arctic wolf documentary and since it had french cuffs I had to buy some butterfly wing cuff links that will blow your mind. Of course that is a woodland pine tree scene painted backwards on the glass with the butterfly appendage as a background. This was not in the budget but I had no choice. Pictures will follow along with diagrams of my gut expanding due to Indian Food Buffet at the Kabob Factory and the frozen custard place in Amesbury.*

If I can get a laugh in a month because of my costume and accessories that improbably appear in the arctic I want you all to note that butterfly cuff links did not magically appear on the french cuffs of my 1950s tuxedo shirt. No, that involved some tact and deft skill and unrecoverable fracking gas...and it took the precious wings of delicate butterflies stripped naked and flightless by demons. And in case the folks at the dept. of interior didn't get the message, "the American people are jerking off their prides into the condoms of defeat."
whatever that means.

I feel good these days. Nothing is going my way but I feel focused and driven to my destined appointment with the imperiled wolf. I've even almost stopped thinking about the immortal beloved in Mexico. I'm almost free to write my book. I belong in a small fishing village in Newfoundland. Or maybe a pot farm. Somewhere I can work the land and fix small engines and play folk sings for people in rocking chairs. I know this. My quest to fix society is a fantasy but it is not a fantasy that I must pursue my own utopia in a land without internet or electricity. A land where money is not a substitute for trust.

My tuxedo shirt and butterfly wing cuff links deserve to be legends that become part of an Eskimo creation myth. I can not process the flaccid lack of ethics perpetrated by the frauds of modern information. The icloud network will render the PC obsolete because our pharaoh Steve Jobs has decreed it. And the copper of Argentina and the minerals of Alberta will co-mingle in his frog toe soup to create the semi-conductors that make that possible. Skyscrapers of data banks fracking the innocent sky as muskrats and wolverines scurry for shelter. I am merely another wolverine lost in the wilderness without the skills to survive. I volunteer for the night watch. My ruffled shirt will repel the armies of indifference and my butterfly wing cufflinks will deflect the demons of the dark.

*The custard shoppe in Amesbury doesn't sell any custard but they do have nice baby clothes.

Hippie's Vacation Usurped by Prolific Painter

If I were a lobster, the Downeasters would throw me back and shake their heads, "Lobstah sho ah furry an ugly these dayuhs."
If I were any thinner you could see through me. That sucks because I tried to put on weight for the trip to the arctic circle. Maybe it's my beard that makes me look thin.


"Look, I can see the spots I missed on the staircase from here!"



Shortly after this picture was taken the Ft. McClary guards approached us and asked to see some identification. I said, "I'm from the future and don't have any identification but I'm wondering if you've seen an arctic wolf?"



All this play was in preparation for a painting gig with the Chicken Farmer that saw more paint hit the surrounding plants and deck than the handrail. By the time that job is done he'll owe the company store more than he earned.

Note: KDHX is an awesome indie radio station in St. Louis.