WHERE DID WE FIND THESE PEOPLE?
Where, in God's Creation, did we find Bush, Cheney, Gore & Lieberman?
I mean, back in 1776-89, with a population of 3 million, we were able to come with people like Washington, Jefferson, Adams, Paine, Franklin, Madison and so on. Now in 2000, with a population of more than 276 million, we came up with Bush, Cheney, Gore & Lieberman!
Is there something to that theory that evolution can run in reverse? That a species can become more stupid and useless as the centuries wear on, until we are all drooling dolts?
Now neighbors, Bush, Cheney, Gore, and Liebermann are not bad folks. They are your average, typical Americans, REAL average, REAL typical, and that may be the problem.
In fact, the four politicians sort of resemble characters from Garrison Keillor's mythical "Lake Woebegone" series on public radio. Indeed, they could be denizens of a typical American small town, so let's visit them in their hometown, which happens to be " Anywhere", USA.
"Anywhere" is your typical, average American small town, originally dependent on agriculture, but now a market town with a couple of marginal industries dependent upon low wages and undocumented alien labor.
George Bush Jr. is now mayor of "Anywhere", owner of the local Ford Dealership and is president of the "Anywhere" Rotary Club (though the cognoscenti down at the Crackerbarrel Cafe suggest that he would not hold any of the above positions if his father, George Bush senior, had not retired and passed the business on to "Dubya" as he is fondly called, and if his devoted brother "Jeb" who runs the local feed, seed and fertilizer store, had not bailed him out of a jam down in Florida.
Though dense as an engine block and dim as a dome light, "Dubya" is regarded as a "likable cuss" by a bit less than half the population of "Anywhere". Even his detractors, mostly pointy headed intellectuals from the local college, regard him as a clueless, but genial character right out of a P.G. Wodehouse novel, a sort of Bertie Wooster with a Texas accent.
However, no one in " Anywhere" ever refers to Richard Cheney, the town banker as a "likable cuss". Travelling with a perpetual banker's sneer, "Dick" speaks in a sort of military staccato (He would have made a fearsome second lieutenant had he not had "other priorities"). He has controlling interests in a number of the town's industries, a chicken processing plant and a battery recycling plant. Local environmental groups claim that both industries discharge untreated waste into the Anywhere river. Plant officials counter this argument with the slogan "Do ya want to eat or go swimmin?, ya can't do
All is not entirely amiable in "Anywhere". There was some opposition to Bush & Cheney by the town's leading churchman, The Reverend Al Gore. "Reverend Al" as he is referred to arrived in "Anywhere", preaching what he called "The Environmental Gospel" in which Nature would be regarded as being of a sacramental nature; that air, water, forests, and animals, including mankind were precious, and not to be ruthlessly exploited.
However, the more wealthy and influential of Reverend Al's congregation took him aside and said that perhaps he was a bit too, well, extreme in the defense of nature and human rights, and couldn't he tone his sermons down a bit? They implied that if he didn't, there might not be enough money for a new church roof, and more importantly, that he might not get to be bishop.
Although, the Anywhere River was running orange in color and the town's labor force were working two jobs to make ends meet, the Reverend Al really did want to be Bishop, so he agreed to compromise a bit. However, church attendance began to drop off as the Reverend Al's condescending sermons to the common parishioners seem to indicate that he did regard them as pretty common. The irony was that the Reverend Al did not become bishop, the church roof leaks, the Anywhere River still runs orange, and irreverent wags spread the rumor that some one else ghost wrote his divinity school thesis "Earth in the Balance." as the Reverend Al likes to tell some whoppers from time to time.
Joe Lieberman was the Reverend Al's chief friend and ally. An unusual character in that while he was an Eastern liberal, he was a bible thumping Eastern liberal who could quote scripture toe to toe with the most fundamental of Anywhere's citizens and bore most anyone to death with nitpicking interpretations. He was the town's leading lawyer, but the least solvent, as he insisted on taking cases defending the town's downtrodden on a "pro bono" basis. He won the grudging admiration even of banker Chaney, who regarded him as a "Likable Cuss" though not very "realistic".
However, a Thunderbear reader tells me that Bush, Cheney, Gore,& Lieberman are not our fault. We just had a bad century. It seems that the 18th century was simply more creative than our century. Whereas, the 18th century had Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, and so on, we had Elvis Presley, Madonna, and Willie Nelson, so don't feel bad.
CONGRATULATIONS, WALT!
As it appears that the Governor of Texas has won the election, it also appears that Walter D. Dabney, presently Director of the Texas State Parks, will be the next Director of the National Park Service.
Walt Dabney is well thought of in the National Park Service, the Republican Party and most importantly, by President elect Bush himself.
Walt graduated from Texas A & M in 1969 with a degree in Recreation and Park Management. He began his career with the National Park Service in the summer of 1969 as a student trainee (ranger naturalist) at Old Faithful District of Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming.
Upon graduation, Dabney was requested by the National Park Service (NPS) to undertake a special assignment for one year. He became the assistant to the NPS senior author and editor, Freeman Tilden to evaluate interpretive programs and identify appropriate roles for the agency to pursue in "environmental education".
Dabney was transferred to his first park assignment in Yosemite National Park, California as a ranger. After four years at Yosemite, he was transferred to Mount Rainier National Park, Washington as the Paradise District Manager. Following four years in Mount Rainier, he transferred to Grand Teton National Park as the law enforcement specialist and then South District Ranger.
In 1983 he transferred to the Everglades National Park in Florida as the Chief of Resource Management. Leaving Everglades after three years, Dabney was selected to become the National Park Service Chief Ranger stationed at the Department of Interior in Washington, D.C. In this post for five and a half years, he had national level policy promulgation and oversight for all ranger related programs.
While in this position, Dabney also acted as the NPS Associate Director for Operations for approximately six months. On a number of occasions he testified before various Congressional hearings related to programs for which he was responsible. He was interviewed on Good Morning America, the Today Show, Nightline, and Night Watch.
In 1991 Dabney was selected as the General Superintendent for the Southeast Utah Group of Parks which included Canyonlands and Arches National Parks and Natural Bridges and Hovenweep National Monuments.
Dabney began his career with Texas Parks and Wildlife on May 1, 1999 as the State Parks Division Director, after having spent 30 years with the National Park Service bringing with him a wealth of knowledge and experience. He is responsible for 8 regions, 122 state parks and over 1,000 employees.
Dabney's scope of employment will increase mightily as he takes over the 379 unit, multi-million acre NPS with nearly 10,000 employees. Walt will be the first NPS "Green blood" (field ranger) to lead the NPS since Russ Dickenson in 1980.
It is unlikely that there will be any strong opposition to Dabney from a Republican controlled Congress and Executive Branch. Most of the environmental groups can be counted upon to go along with a Dabney nomination, (considering the really grim alternatives to Mr. Dabney that could be submitted by the more reactionary Republicans). So, welcome back, Walt!
TRAVELS IN TURKEY: THE TURQUOISE COAST
Believe it or not, neighbors, this is going to be one of the great questions of the 21st century. The fate of your children grandchildren and the environment, may, to some extent, depend on the answer to this question.
You see, guys in general lack common sense. In virtually every culture, in every era, some guy will stand up at say "Hey guys! Lets go to war! Let's slaughter half the population, turn the neighborhood into a smoking ruin and make sure at least one generation of non-combatants starves to death! The other guys slap their collective foreheads, exclaim "Why didn't I think of that! Sounds like fun! Let's do it!" and carry on. (I must admit that the Call to War is usually couched in more patriotic and grandiloquent terms, and only much later do the survivors muse that maybe, just maybe, we should've thought this through a bit more.)
Gals, on the other hand, take a more mundane, common sense view of such matters as they bear a disproportionate burden of the pillage and rape part of the deal. However, down through history, due to lack of equality, education, and the vote, they haven't had much say in the matter, except to be "good sports" and go along with the program as envisioned by us guys.
Now this is not to infer that gals lack courage. Down through the ages women have demonstrated steadfast bravery (often in disasters caused by us guys). Indeed, perhaps the most formidable of THUNDERBEAR'S subscribers is a female US army officer who flies Apache assault helicopters for a living. We are only suggesting that women in general have more common sense than men. After all, in the Morning Report, it is usually guys who suggest a jet ski race to a rock in the middle of the lake. Gals usually like to think such matters through before committing.
But what has that to do with a Moslem girl in a bikini? Well not much if you live in the West or Australia, but in the Middle East, the bikini is sort of the Declaration of Independence, Magna Carta, and Emancipation Proclamation all rolled up in two small pieces of fabric. Is that important to you?
Well, yes it is, buckaroos. I suspect that it would be difficult to convince the son of a bikini wearing mother that if he drove a boat load of plastic explosives into the hull of an American ship, he would immediately go to heaven and be blessed with free wine and interesting chicks.
You see, the Moslem nation of Turkey is sort of an experiment set up by its charismatic founder, Kemal Ataturk to prove that a feudal theocracy can be transformed into a modern secular democracy with liberty for all and equality for women. Ataturk realized that female equality was the key point. That is a hard sell in this part of the world.
So I was looking forward to a sailing trip along Turkey's south coast with a ship load of young Turkish professionals to see if Moslem girls could adequately fill a bikini and not get hurt.
A sail along the Turquoise Coast has become sort of required for any first time trip to Turkey. Doing the "Blue Voyage" is a sort of signature part of the trip, sort of like visiting the Grand Canyon if you've never been to America. It's pretty straight forward; you board a "gulet" a 70 foot, wooden two masted motor sailor, and sail (or more usually, motor) along Turkey's rugged and indented southern coast. The gulet travels along the picturesquely unwinding coast for a few hours, drops anchor in some dramatically cliff-wrapped bay, you swim and snorkel for an hour or so then you have a sumptuous breakfast, lunch, or dinner served by the crew and then resume sailing or motoring.
While on board, you read, talk, lie in the sun and/or drink beer. Every so often, the boat stops at a village or landing of some sort and you walk or take a mini-bus to a Greek or Roman ruin. (The ruins are conveniently located as the ancient world was a seaborne society, and the Ancients preferred to let the wind do the walking for them.) The ruins are interesting, though one realizes pretty quickly that the Ancient version of the Denver Service Center got the general pattern down rather early on and decided not to confuse the taxpayers with too much originality. (Stadium, theater, temple, agora, baths, O.K. guys! check it off and let's plan the next town!)
The sea and coast were a pleasant surprise to me. To an oceanographer or a marine biologist, I am sure that the Mediterranean is justifiable cause for wrath over what Man has done to the environment and I had read much of the popular environmental diatribes that the Med was rapidly becoming a dead sea. However, this would be hard to prove by way of the casual tourist. The water was clear as raki (The local Turkish liver killer) and their were schools of small silvery bait fish, passing by from time to time, but there were no large fish to be seen. The temperature of the water in September is cool but not cold, There are no vivid colors as in tropical waters (No coral reefs of course, even without pollution, the Med would be a bit too cold for that, the nearest coral being in the adjoining Red Sea.)
There was, of course, no visible underwater history. Fifty years of SCUBA have swept the coastal waters clear of classical artifacts, though of course, there might be something under the silt.
Like the sea, the coast was a pleasant surprise. As folks had been fooling around the Turkish coast for more than 5,000 years, I sort of expected it to be as mucked up as the French Riviera or the coasts of Florida and New Jersey with wall to wall hotels, condominiums and summer homes. Strangely enough, the coast seemed wild and deserted. No human habitation or sign of man to be seen for miles and miles. One could almost expect Ulysses to come rowing around the next point asking if we had seen the cyclops or the sirens! Indeed, in some respects, the environment may have actually improved since the time of the ancient Greeks. The Turks were seeing the fruition of a reforestation project began more than a half century ago under the legendary founder-president of Turkey, Kemal Ataturk. Thanks to a ban on charcoal making, firewood collecting, and control of goats, plus an active planting program, the hills and headlands of the Southern coast are covered with a forest of Red Pine.
Our fellow passengers on the gulet consisted mainly of young Turkish professionals, two Dutch couples, and a German. Joan and I were the only Americans on board. Joan's life long friend, a Turkish professor, interpreted for us. though the Turks and Europeans had a certain amount of English. (Should you desire to do this trip, but are frightened at the thought of English language deprivation, I suggest that you book "The Southern Cross" an Australian owned gulet out of Marmaris. Race week in October is particularly recommended.)
The Young Turks were not related, but soon began flirting primly with each other in the manner of early 1960's American college students. To add to the interest (and the scenery) the girls climbed into their bikinis. Tansu, a dark haired young lawyer, pleasantly filled (to overflowing) an aquamarine number. "She's chubby!" Joan whispered cattily; "but in all the right places", I responded gallantly. Senel, a blond, grey eyed teacher, wore what could only be described as a Moslem bikini. That is, the bottom half was cut low enough for the requisite belly button display, but had a frilly skirt! (I can imagine that the design was a compromise between Mom & Dad's sensibilities and what an up to date young woman would want to wear; There could be no pleasing Osama Bin Laden, however, and given the chance, he would be after Tansu and Senel with a bushel basket of rocks, but the adventurous young women were indeed showing the way into the 21st century for their sisters and their nation.
"THE PATRIOT"
It is unlikely that Mr. Gibson will be named a Knight Commander of the British Empire any time soon. His "Braveheart" contributed mightily to a demand for some kind of autonomy for Scotland that had been bubbling before Mel made his epic film. (Though some historians, mainly English, it is true, believe that William Wallace, the hero of "Braveheart" was not entirely innocent of the charges lodged against him.
In the case of "The Patriot", the British Ambassador to the United States posted an informal protest against the film. wondering out loud why America's firmest and most gallant ally was being subjected to an unjust, inaccurate and inflammatory portrayal of historical events involving His majesty's officers and other ranks.
The ambassador has a point. Although the somewhat star-struck Smithsonian took credit for providing historical verisimilitude, their accepted advice did not seem to extend much beyond period furnishings and dress. What actually happened seems to have eluded the scriptwriter.
It was the British, not the Americans, who promised Blacks their freedom from slavery, if they joined up. (The escaped slaves were trying to remain within British lines at Yorktown, not the other way around, when the game was up.) Similarly, most Native Americans decided to go with the British as the more trustworthy of the two antagonists. Sadly, history was to prove them correct.
The Ambassador's main point is on the matter of atrocities. The burning-alive-in-the church scene did not take place. (It was lifted from another time and another war in which a Nazi SS panzer division, frustrated by the French Resistance from reaching the Normandy Invasion, locked all the villagers of Oradour-sur-Glane in their church and burned them alive.)
This is not to say there were no atrocities on the British side. Colonel Hamilton of George Rogers Clark National Monument fame, was known as the "hair-buyer" for offering a bounty for American scalps, regardless of age or gender. The historian Barbara Tuchman has documented some isolated British unpleasantries in her history of the Revolution "First Salute." Some British commanders, notably Sir Banistre Tarleton, allowed an unconscionably long lag time between an American surrender and actually stopping the killing of Americans.
However, the Americans could hold their own in the atrocity sweepstakes. Joe Craig, editor and historian at Saratoga National Historic Site points out one such American transgression in a recent issue of CLIO BOREALIS
"...First of all, let's all understand one thing: War sucks. It not only kills people but also reduces them into actions that are anything but good. War is simply an atrocity on a large scale and contravenes everything and anything that Christianity embodies. So it must be noted that your BOREALIS Editor recognizes that people of any religious bent, or agnostic or atheistic either, do things in wartime that just ain't nice. But every so often something happens that is the stuff of nightmares. Like what happened at Gnadenhutten (Ohio) 6 March, 1782.
Gnadenhutten (Meaning Huts of Mercy) was a settlement of christianized Indians of the Moravian sect. Not only were they non-violent, but they also had adopted "White" ways in dress and even hairstyle. Their location out on the frontier had proven to be difficult in the War for Independence, as they tried to be neutral. Those tribal groups siding with the British know how the Gnadenhutten Indians had warned White settlers of impending raids. (The fact that they had left the "traditional ways" made them an object of further distrust) Rebel settlers knew that the Moravian Indians sometimes sheltered passing bands of raiding Indians.
Raiding was still going on, some modern authors believing that the British and allied Indians hoped to provoke reprisals and use the Moravians as the scapegoats. Certainly the raids that spring were as ferocious as ever. A Colonel David Williamson of the militia organized an expedition to retaliate.
A raiding party discovering those preparations had attacked the house of one Robert Wallace, looting the place and afterward murdered his wife and infant daughter (They also impaled the bodies on trees along the expected pursuers' path; the sort of thing that would upset Kevin Costner no end) The raiders halted at Gndenhutten and demanded provisions from the Moravian Indians before departing back to British held territory (Apparently the raiders gave Mrs Wallace's dress to some young Moravian girls as "payment" Bad move on the part of the girls).
After the departure of the raiding party, a council of the Moravian Indians was held as to what to do. It was decided to remain and finish gathering supplies. They trusted to the known facts that they were peaceable and Christian to protect them from any animosity of the settlers. They also figured that warning the settlers of impending Indian raids would carry some weight. (Something about "be like as little children" Your lapsed Catholic Editor seems to recall.)
Williamson's band caught up with them at Gnadenhutten the day before the Moravian Indians planned to leave.
One Joseph Shabosh was their first identified victim. He was outside the town catching a horse. The militia shot him, breaking his arm. Shabosh did not flee apparently believing it was mistake. When it became obvious that the shooting was intentional, he pleaded for his life to the militia pointing out that he was the son of a White man and a Christian..You know, JUST LIKE THEM. They hacked him to pieces and scalped him.
At least another Indian, who witnessed Shaboth's murder, was shot in his canoe on the nearby river. Shaboth's brother in law, Jacob, witnessed this second murder and ran off and hid in the woods. Somehow, those at another town, Shonbrun, got word of the murders and hid in the forest.
Williamson's party proceeded toward the town. They saw a large number of Indians working in fields across the river and dispatched some men to make contact. The militiamen greeted the Indians as friends, even shaking hands. The Indians were promised protection and unlimited provisions at the safety of Fort Pitt. The militia's apparent good will and promise of a better place than Sandusky were enough to convince the Moravian Indians. ("Relocation east? Golly, Mr. Eichmann, that sounds better than this ghetto") Word was sent to the town of Salem and more of their brethren arrived.
Ninety Moravian Indians (Men, women, and children were assembled, disarmed, and confined in their chapel awaiting movement to the promised safe haven of Fort Pitt. The militia met and decided that the Indians were to be killed. A few, very few, objected, pointed out that they had promised these people safe conduct. this tiny note of conscience was ignored , especially as Mrs Wallace's dress and other "manufactured" goods were found in the village; certain evidence to the militia that the Moravian Indians had taken part in raids. The notion that raiding parties had passed through and might have left such things behind never entered into the conversation.
The Moravian Indians were soon informed of their imminent fate. They asked for enough of a reprieve to ready themselves. They began to pray and take leave of one and other. The militia retired to debate HOW to kill ninety-odd people. One suggestion was to set fire to the chapel and burn the Indians therein.
When the militia returned to the chapel to begin the murders, the Indians were singing hymns (No doubt if you play those Moravian hymns backwards, you'll hear all sorts of dangerous subliminal messages.) The indians were separated into two groups; men in one, women and children in the other. They were tied , unresisting, in twos and threes, to be dragged into nearby huts. One woman pleaded for her life before Captain Williamson, who informed her that the situation was out of his control (Ah, the mark of a good commander.)
Inside the huts the Indians were bludgeoned to death with cooper's mallet taken from the village. One militiaman apparently killed 14 Indians before he grew tied and handled the mallet off to another, eager participant. After the Indians were bashed about they were scalped; militiamen with hatchets further mutilated some of the bodies . The huts were burned and Gnadenhutten ceased to be."
Thank you, Joe, for this valuable historical reminder. a subscription to CLIO BOREALIS can be obtained by writing to: Joe Craig, Saratoga National Historical Park, 648 Route 32, Stillwater, New York 12170-1604.
THE ELECTION
The runner up propositions were Prop A, "Go it alone" and Prop D "Remain with Interior" in that order. There were a number of write in's for Prop E. "Other", notably enticing our inmate in the Department of Interior, The Fish & Wildlife Service to defect along with us and form a super agency with the NPS for the preservation of Nature.
Proposition B, "Join the Environmental Protection Agency" received absolutely no votes, though one person took time to write in that joining the EPA would be as "bad as joining OSHA".
As your editor says, the polls have not closed and to avoid being embarrassed like Dan Rather, I will not prematurely base a projected win for Proposition C on preliminary exit polls. (Fortunately, we do not have a Thunderbear equivalent of the Electoral College to contend with!)
However, I can see why the readership would be interested in leaving the Department of Interior. Why anyone would WANT to remain in a Department that panders to a relative handful of greed heads in destructive, obsolete, federally subsidized industries is beyond me (and your editor is a registered Republican!)
I can also see why joint partnership with the Smithsonian would be appealing; every one in that agency can read and write, often with great skill. The Smithsonian scientists are world class in their fields and their opinions are often debate-enders in peer review. We would be remiss if we did not avail ourselves of such a partnership.
What would the Smithsonian get out of the marriage? Well, as government agencies go, we are sort of cute! In fact, poll after poll has announced that the NPS is the most beloved of federal agencies, so it is not as if the Smithsonian was teaming up with the Internal Revenue Service.
More importantly, the Smithsonian Director has voiced the need to "branch out" to America; to travel to obscure parts of the country with traveling exhibits rather than expecting Americans to make a journey to Washington, DC. Rather, you should be able to see the Hope Diamond and the Moon Rocks in Watrous, New Mexico as well as the Mall. Since the NPS has more than 279 visitor centers scattered across the united States (Postage stamp sized sites" as one Interior Secretary jeeringly remarked) I reckon the Smithsonian could make use of them. They would be a "bully pulpit" for the Smithsonian and its mission.
"SOUTH OF THE BORDER, DOWN CYBERSPACE WAY"
Joan proposed that we eliminate these excess months by moving to the city of Puebla in the mountains of Central Mexico where God maintains perpetual spring, and then return when Washington becomes more reasonable in April.
As Joan had been offered the added incentive of teaching a semester at the local university in Puebla, I could see no reason to remain in the DC area. (Although I must admit that the huge eruption of the mighty 17,887 foot Popocateptl Volcano about 20 miles from our proposed house gave your editor pause for thought!) Excepting of course my editorial duties to the Thunderbear readership. What would become of Thunderbear if your Saintly Old Editor absconded to Mexico with the corporate funds?
Actually, nothing much neighbors. This would have been a problem in fairly recent times, but not now. We now live cheek by jowl in cyberspace. Grand Canyon, Yosemite, and Puebla, Mexico are now part of the same electronic global village.
The truth is I have been procrastinating about putting THUNDERBEAR on the Internet for some time now. All I needed was a good provocation to get off my duff and Mexico seems to be as good as any.
Some of the questions raised in past issues of Thunderbear, such as "Should the NPS leave the Department of Interior" and "Do Native Americans have a right to collect animals and plants (hunt and gather) on National Park Lands? are rather intriguing. It is logical that such questions should have a larger audience than that granted to the printed media.
Therefore, Thunderbear will have it's own web page. On this web page we will publish some of the more recent issues of THUNDERBEAR, as well as the three forthcoming issues for January, February and March (issues # 234, 235, and 236) which will be sent to you through cyberspace from Puebla, Mexico. In April, we will return to the United States and the April issue # 237 will be published in the usual print format and will not appear on the THUNDERBEAR web page. (Yup, those web surfers who become intrigued with the Great Bear and the Christian Bureaucrat will have to take out subscriptions to learn more!)
But what about yourselves? How can I charge you for numbers 234, 235, and 236 while I'm down in Mexico. Perhaps you don't have internet access? Also, if you DO have internet access why should you pay? Well now, these are interesting questions neighbors and indeed they are the main reason you will not be charged for issues #234 through #236. I am mainly interesting in charging you for print and postage and since that is not an issue with #234-236, I am not going to fret about it and neither should you. Yes, you will be getting a very good deal, 15 issues for the normal price of 12 issues. This is just another indication of the essential Goodness of your Saintly Old Bureaucrat (and, if you want to add a bit extra for the Missions when resubscribing, well, that would be quite all right!
To access Thunderbear on the web, just go to the following address and click on the issue you wish to read. Feel free to download to read a paper text, of course. Ready? Here is the address: http://www.workingnet.com/thunderbear.Try it out and if you have any problems, contact me at Thunderbear@erols.com.
Enjoy!!