Hammer Mill Days

BANG! BANG! BANG! goes the hammer. POP! POP! POP! goes the rivet gun. RING! RING! RING! goes the phone. It's our neighbors, the antique dealer. He's telling me to shut the hell up. "Turn it down, the radio!" he shouts over the phone, and I smile quietly to myself. Why am I amused by this? Hey... when you call a dump like this "home", you must find amusement wherever it may be lurking. Here in the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, we are always looking for new distractions. Is that because Big Green is not what you would call a "performing" band? Perhaps, perhaps. Fewer reasons to venture out of the mill, particularly now that Marvin (my personal robot assistant) makes our grocery runs for us. "You trust him with money?" I imagine you're thinking right now. My imaginary answer would be, "No; we program him to work as a day laborer before he goes to the store. That's how we roll." Well, goddamn-a, why do we need a robot'...

Just a few comments on some current issues, now that the presidential primary season is well underway. And since the entire GOP field - with the occasional exception of Jon Huntsman - denies the existence of climate change, let me start by mentioning that here in upstate New York, where the typical January measures snowfall in feet, not inches, and where January temperatures are often subzero for days on end, it is raining and in the 30s. There is no snow on the ground and there hasn't been, really, any significant snow yet this season. I've lived here most of my life and I can say that this is unprecedented in my experience. And yet when I mention the words "climate change" to people in connection with the fact that we appear to be locked in permanent November, they look at me like I have six heads. "Do you really think that's what it is?" a friend asked me. He home-schools his son, by the way. This, my friends, is the power of the fossil-fuel industry....