As a point of interest, Niagara Bottled Water just re-upped their deal to take a half million to a million gallons a day from the aquifer near Apopka.  Yet ouc plans to send  processed waste into our homes to help the aquifer.  Is there something wrong with this picture?

Move Over Fido

In an uncharacteristic attempt at humor the Orlando Utilities Commission(the polluting one) recently reminded customers of its ongoing and heroic efforts to safeguard our environment.  Coming from the visionaries who abandoned natural gas to build the coal burning (touted as ‘state of the art’ but considered obsolete as soon as it was completed)Curtis Stanton power plant as the rest of the country turned the other way, the hilarity was not lost on me when I got this notification with my bill.   But my laughter was short lived as the purpose of the reminder was revealed:   soon we will be drinking out of each others’ toilets and paying extra for the privilege.   They’re already doing it in Pinellas County and when you take a drink there, it tastes like it.

Of course they didn’t actually write that we will be drinking each others’ processed urine and showering in it and washing our dishes and hands in it.  Nope.   According to what I read, they’re just rescuing our water supply by giving us processed sewage in our pipes.  Call me cynical but I see a connection here to the  St. Johns River Water Management District, another  arm of the development community masquerading as a conservation agency:   Their mission statement is “to find water for development.”    When water restrictions go into place during a drought, these restrictions are considered “found water”  to justify further cramming in of people.   I believe our drinking sewage will be considered a giant pool of “found water” and another  boon to the building industry.

At present we don’t need to drink sewage so why should we in the future?  Well, after all that “found water” gets factored in, there will be a lot more people living here.   I think I prefer the old way of “finding water.”

In this way are the standards lowered that we have tried to expect of life.   Much of the “third world” will have drinking water superior to ours.  At least the people there won’t be sipping from their neighbors’ kidneys.

   

And once, when the mighty Gorkin came rolling down the plane and all the albatross mothers of invention took to the hills, things settled down.  And why not?  De camptown lady sing dis song.  Da do.  Da do.  Holy smokes.  Dat's all folks.  Da doo doo run.  A yabadabadooda day.

The New Poll Tax

The first of several episodes occurred at a Barnes and Noble  signing.  A man fondled my novel , professed love for Florida books and appeared sure to buy one.  Then he asked me did I vote for Obama.  When I admitted I had, he set down the book and walked away.   When I told him that was pretty  fascist of him, he turned and said, “I just don’t want to expose myself to your writing.”

                There you have it: self imposed, willful ignorance  from a belief system too fragile to withstand some words from an unvetted source.   He’s an addict enjoying so much the drug of narrow-mindedness that he won’t risk coming near the cure.  But the pattern has been established.  Every so often someone feigns intention of  buying a book  from me before asking my politics (only “conservatives” do this).   I have  a theory to explain the behavior, though I grant myself the luxury of not exposing myself to Rush Limbaugh’s radio show long enough to find out if it’s correct (three minutes is my limit).  The regularity and similarity of these events lead me to believe he is exhorting his minions to go out and negatively reinforce “liberals.” 

Last weekend’s  was a stealth attack.  The woman acted like she probably was a wild and crazy “liberal” and assured me she was a buyer, just couldn’t decide which book to get.  She even went and got money from her husband.    Then she made her move, slyly inquiring about the characters in Paradise Interrupted.  “Liberal?” she asked.   I said that really wasn’t a factor either way.  “How about the source then?” she said coquettishly.

                “Me?” I said.  “I like to think of myself as a liberal person.”

                “So,” she said.  “You like to think of yourself as liberal.”

                “Yeah.”

                Suddenly she becomes a hideous fiend, snakes pop out the top of her head, she slams down the book and screams, “Ahaah!  I’m conservative!!!  I can’t support you.”

                The fact is, she got it all wrong.  I wasn’t asking her to support me.  I already support me.  I was just out there selling my damn books.  It’s simple – either you buy  one or you don’t.  I expect  some of each.  These people don’t seem to get that.  I wonder if they pursue the same line at the grocery store check-out.

                 “Before I pay for those carrots, did you vote for Obama?”

                “Who’s Obama?”

                I wonder what they do then.

                I started to respond to the charge but she rudely waved me off as she stalked away, triumph in her bosom, a blow struck for the Dittohead way of life, maybe only the first of many that day; me devastated, punished by my politics, the one to blame for this lost sale which probably would signal my financial ruin, ruing my foolhardy attitude and determined to spend the rest of my  life as the only kind of American who deserves to live, a conservative.    

                Wow!  I never could have guessed that bulk wasn’t Limbaugh’s only claim to greatness.  Since becoming conservative, I have flourished.   Nobody wastes my time pretending to buy  a book and I worship Rush Limbaugh for giving me what to think, thereby freeing up my mind for more important things.  And I appreciate Republican politicians for the pitiful, mentally mangled, out-of touch with life, uncool people they appear to be, and the struggles they must have endured to bring into prominence those characteristics.  And I think I ‘m actually learning to disdain OBama because, well, he just really isn’t white enough, is he?

On Top of Old Smokey

Here's an insight into human learning a woman shared with me at the New Smyrna Tom Levine Fest this past weekend.   She said she's been sucked into reading books on Kindle rather than actually reading a book.  I was trying to talk her back from the dark side and into buying one or more of my books. She said somebody gave her a book to read recently and, just for a blast from the past, she determined to read it.  She found it difficult though, because, and this should be a warning to everyone  about the profound effect these cute little digital things can have on the nervous system, she couldn't turn the pages.  Her finger just kept pressing down.  Cue the spooky music.
On a happy note, she did by a book from me for physical therapy.