---by Dave Buhlman
First, please keep our leader and chief guide, Ron Dupuis, in your thoughts and prayers as he continues to recover from surgery. May he be back on line soon with a vengeance!
Forced bussed is the term generated in the 1970's in Boston when a federal judge decided single handedly to take over the Boston Public School system and determine where all students in the system should go to to school. Judge schoolmarm had kids on buses going from one side of the city to the other based on one characteristic - race. He did this to help reduce alleged racial bias in the school system. And I guess it worked, at least by liberal interventionist rules and measures. The school system went from about 70 percent white to about 10 percent white - and dropping. Many white families voted with their feet, as has been done throughout history to avoid oppressive regimes.
Judge schoolmarm lived in the very upscale town of Wellesley ("Wealthly", we used to call it growing up in the Roslindale section of Boston), so his kids were never in danger of being forced bussed. Do as I say, etc.
But the forced bussing I'm now referring to is not exactly forced but, given traffic conditions and the price of gas, it certainly beats driving from New Hampshire to my job in Boston. My fellow travelers (literally, not like Hillary, Bill and Lenin) are pretty much like me. Headed to and fro to jobs they may love or hate, but have to have to survive. So it's the 6:20 AM out of Londonderry, or maybe the 6:40, if that's your pleasure. The service is good and the professional drivers can get through traffic jams better than most of us.
These people represent the core of what keeps America going. They travel to jobs, pay a load of taxes, take little in government giveaways, and die quietly in the manner of ITS Eliot's "J. Alfred Prufrock". For these quiet lives they are rewarded with the gratitude of congressmen, the French, villagers in Zimbabwe, delegates to the United Nations, Haliburton executives, and all those south of the Rio Grande. Thank you, Citizens!
Dave Buhlman is a former two-term NH State Representative and published author.
5.30.2008
5.26.2008
Green: Hard to Swallow?
When it comes to energy demands, we're our own worst enemy. One of the "invisible" ways we consume fuels (adding to cost, supply depletion and pollution) is how far our food must be shipped before it gets to us. Grapes from Chile. Oranges from the middle east. Even grain from the Midwest or seafood from the gulf. What we eat has to trucked a long way to get to our tables. We're told by green evangelists to buy local produce instead. But can we?
This phenomenon of long-distance food is really only a hundred and fifty years old, though. Back in the mid 1800s, people mostly ate local -- because they had no choice. New England farmers battled the rocky ground to grow grains. These grains were ground in local mills and baked in local bakeries. Local farms raised cattle and produced milk. These very perishable foodstuffs couldn't travel far without spoiling.
Before refrigeration, people laid up a winter's worth of food. They salted meat butchered in the autumn. They stored away the autumn grain harvest carefully so it could be turned into bread through the dark cold months. If you were doing well, the winter diet of salted meat, bread and some rootstocks would be getting boring by the time spring came. If you were less well off, you were running out of food before the spring grass gave cattle something to eat again (resuming milk production) People got through the winter on a pretty short menu.
Things changed in the mid-1800s when railroads opened up Midwest farms to a larger market. It became cheaper to buy grain from Ohio than to grow it in New Hampshire. Local New Hampshire farmers turned to perishable foods which couldn't come from Ohio (yet). One was dairy (hence the famous Hood dairies of Derry) and apples, (hence the many orchards of Londonderry, etc.)
This trend has gone global. Food comes from all over now. But what if you tried to a good green do-bee? What could you eat that was grown locally? New Hampshire produces about $53 million in dairy, $21 million in livestock, $12 million in veggies and $8 million in apples. Compare this roughly $100 million in food with the $380 million NH grows in "ornamental horticulture". Could New Hampshire live off what we grow? It isn't sounding too likely.
But here's the question for you. Would YOU be willing to lay up a larder of cheeses, some salt beef, a few dried veggies and dried apples, (and bushels of dried flowers) to live on all winter? I don't see many hands being raised. How can we "buy locally" if we're not willing to (a) eat what's grown locally or (b) grow locally what we want to eat?
It's easy to preach green. It's a lot harder to put your mouth where you dogma is.
This phenomenon of long-distance food is really only a hundred and fifty years old, though. Back in the mid 1800s, people mostly ate local -- because they had no choice. New England farmers battled the rocky ground to grow grains. These grains were ground in local mills and baked in local bakeries. Local farms raised cattle and produced milk. These very perishable foodstuffs couldn't travel far without spoiling.
Before refrigeration, people laid up a winter's worth of food. They salted meat butchered in the autumn. They stored away the autumn grain harvest carefully so it could be turned into bread through the dark cold months. If you were doing well, the winter diet of salted meat, bread and some rootstocks would be getting boring by the time spring came. If you were less well off, you were running out of food before the spring grass gave cattle something to eat again (resuming milk production) People got through the winter on a pretty short menu.
Things changed in the mid-1800s when railroads opened up Midwest farms to a larger market. It became cheaper to buy grain from Ohio than to grow it in New Hampshire. Local New Hampshire farmers turned to perishable foods which couldn't come from Ohio (yet). One was dairy (hence the famous Hood dairies of Derry) and apples, (hence the many orchards of Londonderry, etc.)
This trend has gone global. Food comes from all over now. But what if you tried to a good green do-bee? What could you eat that was grown locally? New Hampshire produces about $53 million in dairy, $21 million in livestock, $12 million in veggies and $8 million in apples. Compare this roughly $100 million in food with the $380 million NH grows in "ornamental horticulture". Could New Hampshire live off what we grow? It isn't sounding too likely.
But here's the question for you. Would YOU be willing to lay up a larder of cheeses, some salt beef, a few dried veggies and dried apples, (and bushels of dried flowers) to live on all winter? I don't see many hands being raised. How can we "buy locally" if we're not willing to (a) eat what's grown locally or (b) grow locally what we want to eat?
It's easy to preach green. It's a lot harder to put your mouth where you dogma is.
5.24.2008
Cutting Wood, Being Green
For the past couple of weeks, I've been cutting up trees to burn as heating fuel next winter. It turns out I'm doing a "good" thing, as far as trendy environmentalism goes. (Not that I was trying to, mind you)
As it turns out, trees are only a temporary solution to carbon dioxide. Sure, they absorb CO2 while alive and growing, but when they die and rot, they give it all back to the atmosphere. All that "green" piety of buying indulgences for your SUV by planting trees, is a crock. Your "carbon offset" is only a loan, at best. It's like saying my family budget is "neutral", but I'm using my credit card to make up for the income I don't have. That pigeon will come home to roost eventually.
Trees do help absorb CO2 while their alive, but dead, they're a liability. This hurts the time-honored "green" mantra of saving old growth forests at all costs. Not that we should then cut them all down. Rather, we need to see that there is give AND take. Dead or nearly dead old growth would (from the greenhouse gases point of view) be better off cut into lumber or burned as fuel.
Actually, burning wood releases less carbon than rotting wood does. Who'd have thought? While I've not found useful figures on the amount of CO2 released by a cord of wood vs 100 gallons of fuel oil, it's a sure bet that burning the oil AND letting the wood rot is a double whammy.
To tell you the truth, I really didn't care about reducing my CO2 "footprint". (such a trendy gimmick) I'm laying up a winter's worth of wood because I can scarcely afford heating oil. I suppose I feel less guilt. Actually, I think I feel a little relieved that the enviro-activists won't be screeching at me when I'm just trying to keep my family marginally warm this winter.
As it turns out, trees are only a temporary solution to carbon dioxide. Sure, they absorb CO2 while alive and growing, but when they die and rot, they give it all back to the atmosphere. All that "green" piety of buying indulgences for your SUV by planting trees, is a crock. Your "carbon offset" is only a loan, at best. It's like saying my family budget is "neutral", but I'm using my credit card to make up for the income I don't have. That pigeon will come home to roost eventually.
Trees do help absorb CO2 while their alive, but dead, they're a liability. This hurts the time-honored "green" mantra of saving old growth forests at all costs. Not that we should then cut them all down. Rather, we need to see that there is give AND take. Dead or nearly dead old growth would (from the greenhouse gases point of view) be better off cut into lumber or burned as fuel.
Actually, burning wood releases less carbon than rotting wood does. Who'd have thought? While I've not found useful figures on the amount of CO2 released by a cord of wood vs 100 gallons of fuel oil, it's a sure bet that burning the oil AND letting the wood rot is a double whammy.
To tell you the truth, I really didn't care about reducing my CO2 "footprint". (such a trendy gimmick) I'm laying up a winter's worth of wood because I can scarcely afford heating oil. I suppose I feel less guilt. Actually, I think I feel a little relieved that the enviro-activists won't be screeching at me when I'm just trying to keep my family marginally warm this winter.
5.23.2008
Green Dilemma: Food or Fuel?
---by Micheal
Another example of not getting to have our cake and eat it too, is the problem of biofuels and food. Yes, converting from non-renewable crude oil to bio-fuels has merits, but as we're discovering, to simply divert a big chunk of agricultural resources to fuel means a decrease in food for an already hungry world.
A quick look at basic statistics shows the problem. There are 6.6 billion people in the world. There are about 7.7 billion arable acres in the world. That's only a little over an acre of farm land per person. In pre-industrial times, it took around 4 acres to grow food to sustain one person. Industrial farming has dramatically improved that ratio, but it can only be pushed so far. Factor in how yields vary from year to year and not all land remains equally productive, and you can see how we're already living on the edge.
To take a chunk of that 1 acre per person out to raise bio-fuels pushes things to the brink. Biofuels are not a simple answer.
Another example of the food vs fuel conundrum shows up in Spiess's first green counterinutitive: Live in large cities. Living in very dense clusters (on the order of Manhattan) will free up once-sprawled land, but it only adds to the problem of bringing food to all those millions living in the concrete canyons. Their food must by hauled in to them. That takes more fuel. You gain some land, but increase fuel requirements. Dense urbanization helps one problem, but generates another.
There are no simple easy answers. Beware who say there are. They're either naive, or after your wallet.
Another example of not getting to have our cake and eat it too, is the problem of biofuels and food. Yes, converting from non-renewable crude oil to bio-fuels has merits, but as we're discovering, to simply divert a big chunk of agricultural resources to fuel means a decrease in food for an already hungry world.
A quick look at basic statistics shows the problem. There are 6.6 billion people in the world. There are about 7.7 billion arable acres in the world. That's only a little over an acre of farm land per person. In pre-industrial times, it took around 4 acres to grow food to sustain one person. Industrial farming has dramatically improved that ratio, but it can only be pushed so far. Factor in how yields vary from year to year and not all land remains equally productive, and you can see how we're already living on the edge.
To take a chunk of that 1 acre per person out to raise bio-fuels pushes things to the brink. Biofuels are not a simple answer.
Another example of the food vs fuel conundrum shows up in Spiess's first green counterinutitive: Live in large cities. Living in very dense clusters (on the order of Manhattan) will free up once-sprawled land, but it only adds to the problem of bringing food to all those millions living in the concrete canyons. Their food must by hauled in to them. That takes more fuel. You gain some land, but increase fuel requirements. Dense urbanization helps one problem, but generates another.
There are no simple easy answers. Beware who say there are. They're either naive, or after your wallet.
5.22.2008
Blissful Green Ignorance. Ten Ways to Be Wrong
---by Micheal
Crowds love quick answers. They don't have to be correct answers, mind you. They just have to be easy to remember and assimilate. The currently trendy "green" wave running through our culture is a perfect example. So many people swell with genuine zeal to "save the planet", yet charge off half-cocked to subdue mere windmills. In reality, they're doing virtually no good (beyond feeling good.)
A fine spotlight on this Pointlessly Green phenomenon was highlighted in a recent article in Wired magazine: Inconvenient Truths: Get Ready to Rethink What it Means to Be Green.. Author Spencer Reiss lists off ten counterintuitive (for crowd-think) truths about the environment.
1. Live in Cities: Stacking us up in urban density is easier on the rest of the planet
2. A/C is OK: It uses less energy to cool a home than heat one. Move south.
3. Organics Hurt: Organic crops and meats actually produce more greenhouse gases.
4. Farm Old Growth Forests: Old trees absorb less CO2 than young growing ones.
5. China is the Solution: Whatever that many people do, will matter a lot.
6. Accept Genetic Engineering: Tweaked crops and animals can require less energy.
7. Carbon Trading Doesn't Work: It's a shell game.
8. Embrace Nukes: Like 'em or not, they produce tons of power without CO2
9. Used Cars, Not Hybrids: Hybrids require lots more energy to make. Go used.
10. Prepare for the Worst: The planet is warming. Deal with it.
Most of these reveal how complex the world actually is. We can't simply adopt one "wonder" solution (such as avoiding nuclear waste) and ride off into the sunset. Each choice has ramifications which need to be weighed.
Are we really open to the personal changes required of "reducing our carbon footprint"? (which is the trendy noble thing to pretend to want to do) Are you willing to sell your suburban house and take an apartment downtown? Are you willing to give up your car? Are you willing to eat whatever's best for the planet and not what you want?
A couple of Reiss's points were interesting food for thought. More on those in later posts.
Crowds love quick answers. They don't have to be correct answers, mind you. They just have to be easy to remember and assimilate. The currently trendy "green" wave running through our culture is a perfect example. So many people swell with genuine zeal to "save the planet", yet charge off half-cocked to subdue mere windmills. In reality, they're doing virtually no good (beyond feeling good.)
A fine spotlight on this Pointlessly Green phenomenon was highlighted in a recent article in Wired magazine: Inconvenient Truths: Get Ready to Rethink What it Means to Be Green.. Author Spencer Reiss lists off ten counterintuitive (for crowd-think) truths about the environment.
1. Live in Cities: Stacking us up in urban density is easier on the rest of the planet
2. A/C is OK: It uses less energy to cool a home than heat one. Move south.
3. Organics Hurt: Organic crops and meats actually produce more greenhouse gases.
4. Farm Old Growth Forests: Old trees absorb less CO2 than young growing ones.
5. China is the Solution: Whatever that many people do, will matter a lot.
6. Accept Genetic Engineering: Tweaked crops and animals can require less energy.
7. Carbon Trading Doesn't Work: It's a shell game.
8. Embrace Nukes: Like 'em or not, they produce tons of power without CO2
9. Used Cars, Not Hybrids: Hybrids require lots more energy to make. Go used.
10. Prepare for the Worst: The planet is warming. Deal with it.
Most of these reveal how complex the world actually is. We can't simply adopt one "wonder" solution (such as avoiding nuclear waste) and ride off into the sunset. Each choice has ramifications which need to be weighed.
Are we really open to the personal changes required of "reducing our carbon footprint"? (which is the trendy noble thing to pretend to want to do) Are you willing to sell your suburban house and take an apartment downtown? Are you willing to give up your car? Are you willing to eat whatever's best for the planet and not what you want?
A couple of Reiss's points were interesting food for thought. More on those in later posts.
5.18.2008
Stop the War (well, duh)
---by Micheal
The "activist" sign seen at right has been on that barn for quite awhile. I've seen a few others (albeit smaller) crop up at roadsides too. At first, they seem all noble and neo-60s protest like. After a bit of reflection, however, I thought the statement quite fatuous. Who doesn't want the "war" to stop? Is anyone saying "woohoo! I hope the killing goes on without any discernible change!"?
No. Even the most hawkish people I know (and there are a few) also want to stop the war. President Bush wants to stop the war. The big difference is how. He just wants to stop when Iraq is strong enough itself to stand against the internal terrorist pressures. The same for Afghanistan. Bush doesn't want perpetual fighting. He wants it over too. The trouble for many folks is that he's defined a criteria by which to decide when it's over.
The neo-hippy left, with their simplistic motto of "stop the war" usually don't like any criteria. They advocate simply stopping the war by bringing all our troops home and leaving Iraq to whatever wolves are waiting for it. The assumption, I guess, is that the "war" only exists because we are there. If we leave, peace will break out. A lovely, though naive, view.
When I was in eighth grade, a tough-guy student named Brad was bullying his fellow students. This wasn't unusual for Brad. Richard stood up to Brad and told him to stop. Brad knew that a brawl in the halls would work against him, so challenged Richard to a fight in the woods across from the school. A few of us came to see if a fight would actually occur. (most were only threats) Richard was no powerhouse, but felt duty-bound to show up. Brad punched Richard hard, making his lip bleed. Richard tried to reason with Brad. Blood had been drawn, Brad's "honor" satisfied, could they call it off now? No. Brad pummeled Richard. To his credit, Richard gave pacifism an honest try. He never punched back and kept appealing to honor. "I'm not fighting back. Can you really hit someone who won't hit back?" Brad could, and did. His anger wasn't satisfied until poor Richard lay face-down in the dust. None of us curious nerds were in a position to do anything.
Richard thought he could end the fight by not participating in it. He was sorely mistaken. A bully intent on a fight will keep right on pummeling. If you don't hit back, he's guaranteed to win.
We could bring all our troops home in a few weeks, and abandon Iraq and Afghanistan. We could feel all noble, like Richard did, but those who hate America will not stop hating us. Just because we stopped deploying our troops, it does not mean they'll disarm and start selling used cars or vacuum cleaners. They'll keep on fighting. If not in Iraq, the perhaps here. Why is having Americans die in America better?
The "activist" sign seen at right has been on that barn for quite awhile. I've seen a few others (albeit smaller) crop up at roadsides too. At first, they seem all noble and neo-60s protest like. After a bit of reflection, however, I thought the statement quite fatuous. Who doesn't want the "war" to stop? Is anyone saying "woohoo! I hope the killing goes on without any discernible change!"?No. Even the most hawkish people I know (and there are a few) also want to stop the war. President Bush wants to stop the war. The big difference is how. He just wants to stop when Iraq is strong enough itself to stand against the internal terrorist pressures. The same for Afghanistan. Bush doesn't want perpetual fighting. He wants it over too. The trouble for many folks is that he's defined a criteria by which to decide when it's over.
The neo-hippy left, with their simplistic motto of "stop the war" usually don't like any criteria. They advocate simply stopping the war by bringing all our troops home and leaving Iraq to whatever wolves are waiting for it. The assumption, I guess, is that the "war" only exists because we are there. If we leave, peace will break out. A lovely, though naive, view.
When I was in eighth grade, a tough-guy student named Brad was bullying his fellow students. This wasn't unusual for Brad. Richard stood up to Brad and told him to stop. Brad knew that a brawl in the halls would work against him, so challenged Richard to a fight in the woods across from the school. A few of us came to see if a fight would actually occur. (most were only threats) Richard was no powerhouse, but felt duty-bound to show up. Brad punched Richard hard, making his lip bleed. Richard tried to reason with Brad. Blood had been drawn, Brad's "honor" satisfied, could they call it off now? No. Brad pummeled Richard. To his credit, Richard gave pacifism an honest try. He never punched back and kept appealing to honor. "I'm not fighting back. Can you really hit someone who won't hit back?" Brad could, and did. His anger wasn't satisfied until poor Richard lay face-down in the dust. None of us curious nerds were in a position to do anything.
Richard thought he could end the fight by not participating in it. He was sorely mistaken. A bully intent on a fight will keep right on pummeling. If you don't hit back, he's guaranteed to win.
We could bring all our troops home in a few weeks, and abandon Iraq and Afghanistan. We could feel all noble, like Richard did, but those who hate America will not stop hating us. Just because we stopped deploying our troops, it does not mean they'll disarm and start selling used cars or vacuum cleaners. They'll keep on fighting. If not in Iraq, the perhaps here. Why is having Americans die in America better?
5.17.2008
Final Warning
---by Dave Buhlman
Following is an excerpt from my novel, "Final Warning". It presents a rather bleak picture of a possible future, but developments over the past few years have better set the groundwork for an all-encompassing state.
Begin Excerpt
The conveyance used by the Grassers to transport John to Concord Jail was an electric‑powered jeep that seated six. John was positioned in the back seat between the two Grassers who had controlled and beaten him in his bedroom. He was helpless, but held on to the faint hope that Paige would proceed with their plans and run for Idaho with the children.
The Grassers were silent during the twenty minute ride from Norwood to Concord, which unnerved John. These people had the power of life and death in their hands - his life, his death - and they weren't saying anything to give him a clue about his fate. The Grassers served as judge, jury and executioners for the population outside of the established elite. They were given this power by the UN Security Council to keep order and to strike immediate paralyzing fear into the populace, especially those with a bent toward rebellion. At that moment John could have used some human interaction, even from those who might put him to death. He was scared for himself, and the prospect of never seeing his family again was making him feel desperate. A deep fear gripped him as he realized that he could be used as an example to deter others from becoming breeders. Public torture was a possibility. He hoped that Paige would prevent the children from seeing it on the vidscreen if that horrible event came to pass.
The Grassers were the elite of the world government control forces and John was nervous being in their presence. Their reputation was similar to that held by Nazi storm troopers in the nineteen forties. The training was exceptionally grueling and only one in a hundred made the grade. For this effort they were assured of a good lifetime job with excellent government benefits, including retirement at the age of forty-five. If their loyalty faltered, however, they could be put to death immediately. Like the storm troopers, Grassers rarely fought with anyone who was armed. They liked having all the power in any confrontation.
The jeep pulled up to the gate at Concord Jail and John could hear the howls of those being tortured. In past years the jail and the adjacent farm had served the Commonwealth of Massachusetts as a minimum security lockup. Now it was used by the UN District government to administer all degrees of punishment, including torture and death. There was also a large crematorium on the grounds which served the area northwest of Boston.
John was taken to a building that was very well lighted on the outside and inside.
"Get out," the lead Grasser ordered while yanking John out of the back seat, making sure to whack his head on the door.
They led him into the bright building and pushed him into a room. All he could make out in the brightness was a small desk with a shadow sitting behind it. The Grassers pushed him down to sit on the floor in front of the desk and took off the handcuffs. There was no possibility of escape and any threatening gestures would result in immediate death.
A woman's voice spoke from behind the desk. "Breeder, you're going to die a horrible death. We suspect that you're part of an elaborate scheme to undermine the government's authority and scoff at our fine Gaian laws. Wilson was your football coach, wasn't he?"
The switch to Wilson confused John and actually made him smile at the absurd juxtaposition of the interrogator's question.
"Assistant football coach," was all he could manage in reply.
'Are you mocking me, Larson?" This comment was coupled with a kick to the right kidney area from an unseen Grasser. The pain shot through his entire body, and he cried out.
"If that little bit bothers you, I suggest that you be more selective in your responses," came the voice from the desk. "You know, Larson, we're always looking for conspiracy insiders to declare their loyalty and work for us weeding out the chaff of the society. It's something you might consider."
John wasn't part of a conspiracy, at least not any outside of his family, so he couldn't even fake at taking the bait. Still feeling the pain from the kick, he wished for a moment that he could turn traitor to some movement or another, but he didn't even know of any. He was certainly no zealot and some of the changes made by the new society were beneficial. Street crime was just a bad memory, for example. You could walk the streets at night, at least until the national nine o'clock curfew. All the guns had been confiscated from regular citizens for the stated purpose of preventing crime, but the confiscation was really undertaken to assure that the Grassers and other police forces would not meet with any opposition when they came to take someone away. It was standard practice for totalitarian governments.
"I'm deeply honored, officer, but I am not involved in any conspiracy. If I were, I assure you, I would tell you to avoid punishment. I'm only a husband and father, and, please believe me, I'm not saying that to be at all controversial. I respect the government and its representatives. I had nothing to do with Wilson, and only saw him occasionally in Norwood Center. He was basically a nut." John felt somewhat depraved at his complete supplication, but he was in a life-threatening situation.
No retaliation came so John felt that he had done all right. It was by no means time to relax, but he felt that he might have earned a little breathing room. Then the Grasser on his left side hit him in the head with a nightstick, knocking him to the floor. He was almost unconscious.
"You talk too much, breeder," said the shadow as it approached John. "We certainly don't need abject cowards in our government. Go and arrest the others in his household. Under the new law, they're guilty by association. We'll take care of the whole bunch at once. Breeder extermination makes a great spectacle for the masses." John was heartbroken. He hoped, and prayed for the first time in many years, that Paige was planning to be on the move before the Grassers came back to the house.
"Yes, Commander," the Grasser responded.
John was taken to a tiny, dirty cell and thrown in with such force that he hit the end wall hard, bruising his left shoulder. His head was still bleeding and the pain in his lower back was excruciating. He had little hope that Paige and the kids would escape by the time the Grassers got to them, but they actually had no intention of bothering with her right away, as Parmenter had implied. The statement was made to increase John's suffering. And it did.
As he lay on his bunk, he was thankful that he and Paige had begun planning soon after the government mandated attendance at the Exhibits of Enlightenment. Although the edict was harmless enough, compared to many of the others, it was a clear portent that government control would never cease to increase. The exhibits were ineffective attempts at mind control but people were forced to attend, and that amounted to additional power over the time of peoples' lives. It was a warning sign that worse was to come. And worse did come in the form of forced abortions, government-sponsored WOMBSA coercion techniques, and forced euthanasia at the age of sixty.
It was four o'clock on the morning and John was exhausted. There was intense pain in his head and body, and screams coming from adjacent cells.
Despite his condition, he began to nod off. He thought of his father, a postal worker who had died in John's first year of college. A lot of what his father had warned him about, John now realized, had come true. But he ignored his dad, as most others did.
End Excerpt
Dave Buhlman is a former two term NH State Representative.
Following is an excerpt from my novel, "Final Warning". It presents a rather bleak picture of a possible future, but developments over the past few years have better set the groundwork for an all-encompassing state.
Begin Excerpt
The conveyance used by the Grassers to transport John to Concord Jail was an electric‑powered jeep that seated six. John was positioned in the back seat between the two Grassers who had controlled and beaten him in his bedroom. He was helpless, but held on to the faint hope that Paige would proceed with their plans and run for Idaho with the children.
The Grassers were silent during the twenty minute ride from Norwood to Concord, which unnerved John. These people had the power of life and death in their hands - his life, his death - and they weren't saying anything to give him a clue about his fate. The Grassers served as judge, jury and executioners for the population outside of the established elite. They were given this power by the UN Security Council to keep order and to strike immediate paralyzing fear into the populace, especially those with a bent toward rebellion. At that moment John could have used some human interaction, even from those who might put him to death. He was scared for himself, and the prospect of never seeing his family again was making him feel desperate. A deep fear gripped him as he realized that he could be used as an example to deter others from becoming breeders. Public torture was a possibility. He hoped that Paige would prevent the children from seeing it on the vidscreen if that horrible event came to pass.
The Grassers were the elite of the world government control forces and John was nervous being in their presence. Their reputation was similar to that held by Nazi storm troopers in the nineteen forties. The training was exceptionally grueling and only one in a hundred made the grade. For this effort they were assured of a good lifetime job with excellent government benefits, including retirement at the age of forty-five. If their loyalty faltered, however, they could be put to death immediately. Like the storm troopers, Grassers rarely fought with anyone who was armed. They liked having all the power in any confrontation.
The jeep pulled up to the gate at Concord Jail and John could hear the howls of those being tortured. In past years the jail and the adjacent farm had served the Commonwealth of Massachusetts as a minimum security lockup. Now it was used by the UN District government to administer all degrees of punishment, including torture and death. There was also a large crematorium on the grounds which served the area northwest of Boston.
John was taken to a building that was very well lighted on the outside and inside.
"Get out," the lead Grasser ordered while yanking John out of the back seat, making sure to whack his head on the door.
They led him into the bright building and pushed him into a room. All he could make out in the brightness was a small desk with a shadow sitting behind it. The Grassers pushed him down to sit on the floor in front of the desk and took off the handcuffs. There was no possibility of escape and any threatening gestures would result in immediate death.
A woman's voice spoke from behind the desk. "Breeder, you're going to die a horrible death. We suspect that you're part of an elaborate scheme to undermine the government's authority and scoff at our fine Gaian laws. Wilson was your football coach, wasn't he?"
The switch to Wilson confused John and actually made him smile at the absurd juxtaposition of the interrogator's question.
"Assistant football coach," was all he could manage in reply.
'Are you mocking me, Larson?" This comment was coupled with a kick to the right kidney area from an unseen Grasser. The pain shot through his entire body, and he cried out.
"If that little bit bothers you, I suggest that you be more selective in your responses," came the voice from the desk. "You know, Larson, we're always looking for conspiracy insiders to declare their loyalty and work for us weeding out the chaff of the society. It's something you might consider."
John wasn't part of a conspiracy, at least not any outside of his family, so he couldn't even fake at taking the bait. Still feeling the pain from the kick, he wished for a moment that he could turn traitor to some movement or another, but he didn't even know of any. He was certainly no zealot and some of the changes made by the new society were beneficial. Street crime was just a bad memory, for example. You could walk the streets at night, at least until the national nine o'clock curfew. All the guns had been confiscated from regular citizens for the stated purpose of preventing crime, but the confiscation was really undertaken to assure that the Grassers and other police forces would not meet with any opposition when they came to take someone away. It was standard practice for totalitarian governments.
"I'm deeply honored, officer, but I am not involved in any conspiracy. If I were, I assure you, I would tell you to avoid punishment. I'm only a husband and father, and, please believe me, I'm not saying that to be at all controversial. I respect the government and its representatives. I had nothing to do with Wilson, and only saw him occasionally in Norwood Center. He was basically a nut." John felt somewhat depraved at his complete supplication, but he was in a life-threatening situation.
No retaliation came so John felt that he had done all right. It was by no means time to relax, but he felt that he might have earned a little breathing room. Then the Grasser on his left side hit him in the head with a nightstick, knocking him to the floor. He was almost unconscious.
"You talk too much, breeder," said the shadow as it approached John. "We certainly don't need abject cowards in our government. Go and arrest the others in his household. Under the new law, they're guilty by association. We'll take care of the whole bunch at once. Breeder extermination makes a great spectacle for the masses." John was heartbroken. He hoped, and prayed for the first time in many years, that Paige was planning to be on the move before the Grassers came back to the house.
"Yes, Commander," the Grasser responded.
John was taken to a tiny, dirty cell and thrown in with such force that he hit the end wall hard, bruising his left shoulder. His head was still bleeding and the pain in his lower back was excruciating. He had little hope that Paige and the kids would escape by the time the Grassers got to them, but they actually had no intention of bothering with her right away, as Parmenter had implied. The statement was made to increase John's suffering. And it did.
As he lay on his bunk, he was thankful that he and Paige had begun planning soon after the government mandated attendance at the Exhibits of Enlightenment. Although the edict was harmless enough, compared to many of the others, it was a clear portent that government control would never cease to increase. The exhibits were ineffective attempts at mind control but people were forced to attend, and that amounted to additional power over the time of peoples' lives. It was a warning sign that worse was to come. And worse did come in the form of forced abortions, government-sponsored WOMBSA coercion techniques, and forced euthanasia at the age of sixty.
It was four o'clock on the morning and John was exhausted. There was intense pain in his head and body, and screams coming from adjacent cells.
Despite his condition, he began to nod off. He thought of his father, a postal worker who had died in John's first year of college. A lot of what his father had warned him about, John now realized, had come true. But he ignored his dad, as most others did.
End Excerpt
Dave Buhlman is a former two term NH State Representative.
5.06.2008
There is a difference
By Dave Buhlman
First, we at IMHO are praying for the speedy recovery of our leader, Ron Dupuis. Ron had surgery and is experiencing some difficulties in the recovery. Please pray that all is well and that he’s back very soon displaying his ability to cut right to the heart of the matter through logic and humor.
There is a difference between the two major parties, at least on the state level. Since the Democrats took over in 2006, the state has been plunged into deeper debt caused by too much spending and obvious mismanagement. I was a State Representative for two terms while the Republicans were in charge. As one who believes in liberty and limited government, it was somewhat frustrating that many in Republican leadership positions seemed to go along with Democrats too often. But I suppose that’s the nature of leadership - some compromise to keep the government machine churning. On balance, however, the Republicans held the line on more spending and no tax increases. This was especially true when Craig Benson was Governor. Benson had the courage to hold the line and take the hits. I hope he runs again.
I had a number of good friends in the Legislature who were Democrats. With the exception of their undying support for abortion on demand, their hearts were in the right place. They wanted to help people. Their giant flaw, which remains to this day, is that they believe that government is the answer for providing this help. It isn’t. Granted, on a limited level, government should be there to help people get over a hump in their lives. But when government becomes the problem solver of first resort, things are a mess. They raise taxes on cigarettes under the pretense that the government needs the money to help smokers quit, and for an endless string of other reasons, while in fact the additional money is needed mainly to provide jobs for their friends with Masters in Social Work who are otherwise unemployable. In raising the tax on butts, they are hurting many in the lower economic strata who are just getting by. What these folks sure don’t need is a higher tax on a pack of butts, or increased registration fees on their cars. But the Democrats give it to them anyway, like it or not. They believe that they know better.
Regarding the butt tax, the legislature is now considering about the fourth increase in that tax in as many years. They have no shame singling out this group of addicts to punish. No shame at all. As soon as the Massachusetts House voted to increase the tax on a pack down there by a buck, I predicted that the New Hampshire Democrats would jump on that increased tax gap, and sure enough, they did. Increasing the tax on a pack of cigarettes is the first refuge of a politician with no imagination and no courage. They probably thinks it’s okay to kick a guy when he’s down, too, as long as it’s for what they perceive as a greater good. Another driving force for Democrats is that all or most of those in leadership, including Governor Lynch, have not had to worry for years about how to pay the bills. They seem to forget that not all of their constituents are living off trust funds, good pensions, or good luck with investments. They talk a good game about helping people without realizing that when government helps one group, it has to hurt another group of innocents to make the scheme work.
In November, 2008, New Hampshire voters will have a chance to return the state to some semblance of sanity by giving control of the Legislature back to the Republicans, and voting in a Republican Governor and Executive Council. It won’t be perfect, but it will sure be better than these days when we have to keep a constant watch on our wallets to prevent intrusion by light-fingered do gooders with a D after their names.
Dave Buhlman served two terms as a New Hampshire State Representative. His novel, Final Warning, introduced the Environmental Freedom Party, champions of the three card monte game known as global warming.
First, we at IMHO are praying for the speedy recovery of our leader, Ron Dupuis. Ron had surgery and is experiencing some difficulties in the recovery. Please pray that all is well and that he’s back very soon displaying his ability to cut right to the heart of the matter through logic and humor.
There is a difference between the two major parties, at least on the state level. Since the Democrats took over in 2006, the state has been plunged into deeper debt caused by too much spending and obvious mismanagement. I was a State Representative for two terms while the Republicans were in charge. As one who believes in liberty and limited government, it was somewhat frustrating that many in Republican leadership positions seemed to go along with Democrats too often. But I suppose that’s the nature of leadership - some compromise to keep the government machine churning. On balance, however, the Republicans held the line on more spending and no tax increases. This was especially true when Craig Benson was Governor. Benson had the courage to hold the line and take the hits. I hope he runs again.
I had a number of good friends in the Legislature who were Democrats. With the exception of their undying support for abortion on demand, their hearts were in the right place. They wanted to help people. Their giant flaw, which remains to this day, is that they believe that government is the answer for providing this help. It isn’t. Granted, on a limited level, government should be there to help people get over a hump in their lives. But when government becomes the problem solver of first resort, things are a mess. They raise taxes on cigarettes under the pretense that the government needs the money to help smokers quit, and for an endless string of other reasons, while in fact the additional money is needed mainly to provide jobs for their friends with Masters in Social Work who are otherwise unemployable. In raising the tax on butts, they are hurting many in the lower economic strata who are just getting by. What these folks sure don’t need is a higher tax on a pack of butts, or increased registration fees on their cars. But the Democrats give it to them anyway, like it or not. They believe that they know better.
Regarding the butt tax, the legislature is now considering about the fourth increase in that tax in as many years. They have no shame singling out this group of addicts to punish. No shame at all. As soon as the Massachusetts House voted to increase the tax on a pack down there by a buck, I predicted that the New Hampshire Democrats would jump on that increased tax gap, and sure enough, they did. Increasing the tax on a pack of cigarettes is the first refuge of a politician with no imagination and no courage. They probably thinks it’s okay to kick a guy when he’s down, too, as long as it’s for what they perceive as a greater good. Another driving force for Democrats is that all or most of those in leadership, including Governor Lynch, have not had to worry for years about how to pay the bills. They seem to forget that not all of their constituents are living off trust funds, good pensions, or good luck with investments. They talk a good game about helping people without realizing that when government helps one group, it has to hurt another group of innocents to make the scheme work.
In November, 2008, New Hampshire voters will have a chance to return the state to some semblance of sanity by giving control of the Legislature back to the Republicans, and voting in a Republican Governor and Executive Council. It won’t be perfect, but it will sure be better than these days when we have to keep a constant watch on our wallets to prevent intrusion by light-fingered do gooders with a D after their names.
Dave Buhlman served two terms as a New Hampshire State Representative. His novel, Final Warning, introduced the Environmental Freedom Party, champions of the three card monte game known as global warming.
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