Wind energy is frequently touted as a clean, green source of energy that can reduce our dependence on fossil fuels.
But like all sources of energy, wind power comes at a cost — one that’s too often borne by eagles, hawks, falcons, owls and other birds.
Wind turbines kill more than 573,000 birds each year in the United States, according to The Associated Press, including federally protected species like bald eagles and golden eagles.
Environmentalists don’t care about anything but killing off people. Maybe Matt Damon should make a movie about that. He can ride to the rescue in his Toyota Prius. Or blow up in it. I don’t care which.
Sorry about that. Had an incident today with a right lane bandit in a Prius. They’re still in a hurry, mind. They just assume they have the right of way. Because they’re, you know, liberal.
As for me, right lane bandits are the same old cowardly scum they’ve always been. Too yellow to speed in the open, too stupid to understand how they put other people in danger by racing in the slow lane. In short, Democrats.
Windmills are a blight. They’re ugly and inefficient. They kill thousands, hundreds of thousands, of the most beautiful creatures on earth. Green? I don’t think so. Black is the color of Greenpeace and PETA. Death is their signpost.
This pic is really kind of perfect. The totalitarian cage they want all of us to live in.
We have to be older. And wiser. Even removed, to the extent necessary.
It’s sad. A whole new photoshoot for Mylie Cyrus. A girl spiraling down the drain. They do that. We should never help. The mandate is not to be tempted by children. Which they mostly are until they’re 25 or so.
It’s easy to distract men. We’re so distractable. But we have to remember that we have a moral responsibility. Regardless of where our minds and fantasies go unbidden, we have an obligation to be good.
Why I commend this essay to all men. I won’t mention the Brizoni word, but it applies. Read.
The Narrative now is two pronged. “Evil Republicans” on the left. “Stupid Republicans” on the right.
The actual story that’s being covered only in passing is the monumental screw-up that is ObamaCare. Remember that, no matter how fervid the rhetoric becomes.
And speaking of monumental, here’s the master demonstrating which part of your person should be aimed toward the television news.
Monumental is one word. Gigantic, glorious, and heroic are three more. You choose your own favorite.
Yeah. Everything’s shut down. Except everything but the national parks. Maybe, maybe we can scrape through this. Why I’ve prepared a musical interlude to facilitate the healing process.
We need soothing. We need comfort. Abatement of passion. I can provide that.
And we need to get our rhythm back. It’s not as hard as it seems.
All right. Maybe this isn’t going as well as I’d hoped. Maybe some actual emotion is still called for.
Okay, screw it. It’s still and always has been balls to the wall time. The Interlude ends with this.
10:00 AM. I have to tell you. The shutdown is hitting us hard here. The Keurig is only making half a cup of coffee. The pictures on my iPhone are only three quarter size. Google is finding 30 percent fewer links. Only two of the three ESPN channels are broadcasting. We’re getting OWN fine but the Lifetime Movie Network is reduced to showing Audie Murphy westerns. The mail lady delivered only the junk mail, not the fan mail I generally get. The broccoli potato soup Raebert gets mixed in with his kibble ran out yesterday, and when I look in the fridge for the bowl it hasn’t been refilled. We’re at our wit’s end here.
I’ll try to post live updates through the day, but I warn you some of the keys on my plug-in keyboard are not funded and not working…
Wish us luck. And feel free to share your own shutdown travails.
10:20 AM. It’s getting worse, even snowballing. Our unfunded housecats are shut down.
Well, two of the four anyway. Elliott is an Obama bundler, so he’s fine. And Cassie’s a leader in the Occupy the Garage movement, so she hasn’t even noticed. Actually, she might even be in jail by now.
And apparently my Ohio State cap is not funded, because look at all the dust. Shocking.
Tell me again, why do we pay all those taxes?
Most alarmingly, the child gate we use to keep Raebert in, or something else out (I’m not 100 percent sure), is usually six inches higher so the older cats can go underneath. But you can see that it has now been lowered by some 20 percent, which compounds the cat shutdown effect, I’m almost 70 percent sure. See?
Even Raebert’s elephant is trapped.
Hand wringing. What are we to do?
11:20 AM. Worse and worse. It’s looking pretty likely that the blonde women of Fox News are showing 18 percent less leg today. Who knew thighs were federally subsidized? Damn. Airwolf is on, but it’s Season 2, Episode 1, and the plot is about terrorizing a pickup truck in the parking lot of a Texas bar. Really?! The unearthly howl is gone too. Airwolf is just beeping, like a low fuel warning. Those federal credit cards not working at the gas pumps? Double damn.
12:00 PM. Even my wife’s computer is sleeping so hard it’s actually snoring.
It’s usually more discreet, pretending YOU screwed up somehow.
Another thing. I have a full serving of Chicken Parm from Pat’s Pizza in the fridge downstairs. (They make really good Chicken Parm btw.) By this time normally it would be hot and plated and ready for my delectation. Where is it? Where is it!!! I say give Harry Reid what he’s asking for. I can’t abide any more of this personal torture.
Besides, we’ve had a casualty. Absolutely shutdown related. In our own household. Raebert’s elephant, who would usually go downstairs UNDER the child gate, tried to go over it instead.
I thought he was doing okay. Huffing a bit, but okay.
Then he fell.
Dead. Very sad.
I blame them all. Obama, Harry Reid, and the remorseless Republicans too. Then there’s this:
Turns out his pillow wasn’t funded. Talk about suffering. Lost his elephant and now this.
Who knows what horrors the rest of this benighted day will bring?
1:30 PM. So I’m not pretending to be Mister Righteous here. When the newsreaders of Fox stopped showing their legs and boobs and stuff owing to the Shutdown, I went looking elsewhere. Where do left wing ladies strut their stuff? At the Emmys!
But the Shutdown has already closed off that avenue as well. Look at this censored picture of the probably (but who knows?) lovely boobs of Zosia Mamet from the progressive HBO series “Girls.”
Look, government. We can handle pictures of young naked boobs, or gauze covered boobs, or any kind of boobs that aren’t wiped completely off the map. Get off our lawn, whyn’tcha?
Don’t mean to be cranky. But now it appears that the Keurig is wrapped in a half dozen yards of police tape. Well, it doesn’t say police. It says FBI.
Speaking of the FBI, here’s something odd. Heard a few motorcycle crashes today. No ambulances though. Shutdown, right? When I went out they were still writhing around in the fields. Too far away to hear what they were yelling. But I did notice this on the road.
They’ve got money for this but not EMTs? I’ve lost patience, I tell you. Somebody should pick that up.
I thought government was supposed to take care of us.
2:40 PM. So now we’re approaching three o’clock in the afternoon. When will this ordeal ever end? One of my computer speakers fell over. There’s no one to pick it up. Raebert’s elephant is now a zombie, stalking cats…
Who will save Mickey?
…and even Raebert himself…
Who would be terrified if he ever noticed.
Beside the point. Things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be. If they’re going to shut down the things government controls or has a fat finger in, why do we still have all these lewd unfunny sitcoms? Why does the network news still feature blow dried nancy boys of both sexes? Why, if the government really cares about us, does life go on always, exactly, as if there’s no one looking after us but us?
Unless things are exactly the way they’re supposed to be. Tough. Annoying. Difficult. Constant challenge.
Government shutdown? Only a handful of people will ever notice. Mainly people doing business with the government. But they’re used to that by now too. A few days or weeks of hardship. Overcome in the past and in the future too.
As for the rest of us, it’s a giant steaming stinky pile of nothing. Let the pollsters do their worst. Nobody will remember. And Raebert is still The Man.
My elephant is healed. Except for the ears I chewed off. All is well.
Yeah, I saw that concert. Closest I came to my own dream band, The Shuteye Train. Doesn’t matter I’m old enough to know better. But it’s Lake who should know better than to dangle a documentary over my head I don’t know how to see. Curses.
Mick’s a great grandfather. I’m on the verge. Changes your stage style.
I never believed anyone. Do you believe that?
Just an ordinary old man.
Now, finally, I realize I’m a decrepit old jerk with a really cool backstory. Shammadamma.
SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL. Mephistopheles leaned back in his chair with a sigh.
“It’s been a good run,” he said.
“But all good things have to come to an end, right?” replied Mick.
“Yes. But sometimes one wishes one could make an exception for special circumstances.”
“But one can’t make an exception. You DID sign the contract, did you not?”
“That I did, Sir Mick.”
So Mick collected the soul of Mephistopheles and returned to his concert tour.
