Post-Modern Terror Warfare

Spring arrived suddenly in the Champlain Valley last weekend. Crocuses and hyacinths resolutely pushed green shoots through soil still damp from melting snow. Church Street was thronged with people, who having sat indoors for months, needed to do nothing more than stroll in the sun. Buskers and food carts were out; the more enterprising restaurant managers hurried tables out to the street.

On the block between Bank and Cherry streets, the peace and justice demonstrators lined up with their placards facing the sun. Some placards were new, some were recently revised, “Yugoslavia” having been squeezed in next to “Iraq” above the plea for an end to sanctions and bombing. The Saturday demonstration is a regular event, but passers-by seem less indifferent now that spring is here. Instead of hurrying past, many stop to take a fact sheet and chat for a moment.
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Not About Race, But Opportunity

It’s spring and the great migrations are underway. From throughout the north, college students are heading south for a week or ten days of sunstroke, public inebriation and reverse peristalsis. In college towns, administrators have a week to sort out all the nagging paperwork that never seems to get finished while the kids are around. It’s a particularly onerous task in California, where everyone is still picking through the remnants of Proposition 209, which did away with affirmative action in the University of California system of schools, as well as the rest of the state government.

Rather than get involved in a potentially tenure-damaging political debate, professors at one of those schools – UC Santa Barbara – went out and did what they are supposed to do: scholarly research. By interviewing students and asking them to keep diaries of their activities, the researchers were able to track the college experience for students of various ethnicities and socio-economic backgrounds. The results, published in the Chronicle of Higher Education last November, indicate that if anyone is gumming up our university system, it’s the rich white kids.
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Wanna Buy a Nuke?

Hey, friend. You there, yes, you. The one with the lights on, running the computer, the stereo. Did I just hear the compressor on your refrigerator kick on? You’re sucking a lot of juice there. Your electric meter must be spinning like a pinwheel in a hurricane. I’ve got a special deal for you – how’d you like to buy a nuclear reactor, one of your own. Used, of course, but there are plenty of megawatts left on these babies. Most have had only one owner, treated ’em real gentle. Only used them to light up churches on Sunday. They’re going cheap, one in Massachusetts recently sold for $80 million and there’s only a hundred or so left.

I’m not just joking – this is a real trend. All over the country, nukes are up for sale. Local or regional utilities, which built the nukes in the ‘60s or ‘70s are now trying to dump them, for a number of reasons.
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Odzihozo

From my window, I can see Odzihozo, sitting in the lake, wearing a coat of rime and snow. He looms out of the fog, or is obscured by a squall of snow, but sooner or later everything clears and I see him where he has always been – watchful, immutable, staring at the world he made.
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Real History

Today’s news is tomorrow’s history. I’m fascinated by both subjects, and when I was in college, I took degrees in journalism and history. I don’t know why it isn’t required of all journalism students. In the last ten years we’ve seen the development of instant history. No sooner does an event hit the newspapers than it is being pawed, pored over and dissected by pundits and professors.

Instant history, however, is not the same as real history. The recent impeachment trial was a godsend for instant historians, but real historians a hundred years hence will find it relatively insignificant, like the impeachment of 1868.
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No Ethics Need Apply

According to the almanacs, the worst of winter is over. Once Valentine’s Day has passed, it’s a rare day when the temperature drops below zero. We can still accumulate a goodly amount of snow, and flurries are possible all the way through June. Still, the greater part of winter is past and one can feel a restlessness among Vermonters as we anticipate the rising of sap and the onset of Mud Season.

This restlessness exhibits itself in various ways, some of which are fairly outlandish. There was a group of flatlanders came through a while back, the Center for Public Integrity, they call themselves, trying to make a stink about the fact that Vermont is only one of three states which does not require legislators to disclose potential conflicts of interest. Michigan and Idaho are the other ethical cellar-dwellers.
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You Have the Right to Remain Silent

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you by the court.”

Does any of that sound familiar? I’m sure it does, we’ve all heard it dozens of times in movies and on television in the past 30 years. I think I first heard from either Jack Webb on “Dragnet” or Martin Milner on “Adam-12.” Those tee vee policemen would always inform a suspect of his rights as they were fastening the cuffs and putting him in the car. “You’re under arrest for first degree murder,” they’d say. “You have the right to remain silent… ”
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