The Creek

Last night I reached down to a creek

My hand swirled  the water.

Something squirmed. 
I let it go; it was a fish. 
This happened again with a beetle
I realized everything I touched came alive 
Dirt, twigs and leaves all came to life at my touch. 
I was the opposite of Midas. 
A friend walked up behind me.
What if my touch did the opposite to living things?
So I was afraid to turn around lest I hurt her
What a curious dream.  

The Words We Share

I heard a song 

It was inspiring 
And made my heart soar
My mind savored it 
How can someone could put
Such beauty into words?
So it plays in my head 
And lifts my mood 
When I am having fun
My head bobs to the music
And when alone
It plays in my head 
and gives comfort
The same thing happens
With the words we share

The Tree

The many things in life we’re taught 

Some for good and some for naught
We say its crazy but do the same
Enjoy the good then give it shame
So many dreams our hearts give birth
We gaze at them and give them worth 
Life gives us a tree of love
We pick its fruit before we’re dust 
It feeds our souls and as we will
We’re satisfied but never filled
Every morsel goes down sweet
We grow inside; it always keeps
It’s something that we can’t be taught 
Yet is profound and greatly sought.  
 

Precision and Accuracy

I could make a slingshot that could hit the broad side of a barn from twenty feet away. To test it’s accuracy, I could travel all over the country and shoot a number of barns. Other slingshot experts could follow me around to affirm my results and we could have a consensus that my slingshot was accurate. I could advertize it as being accurate and that there is a consensus among slingshot enthusiasts that my data is correct. Even though hitting the broad side of a barn has no value for hunting, I could still sell it as an accurate weapon. The term accuracy is completely dependent on the agenda of the person collecting the data. Consensus is the same. It depends on having the same parameters as the person collecting the data.

Precision is the word used for how tight the parameters are concerning the subject we are examining. It is the size of the bulls eye. To make slingshot that can hit a bug from twenty feet away would take more of a precise instrument. Variables would have to be eliminated to always hit a bug at that distance such as using a steel ball of a certain weight and pulling back a certain distance, lining up sights etc. All the slingshots would have to be designed exactly the same. The claim to accuracy would be confined to hitting bugs at twenty feet. Both slingshots can be considered accurate but only one would be of value for hunting.

This is the game played by science today. Forensic data from millions of years or even decades are not precise enough to make judgment calls about the future. We can’t accurately predict hurricane seasons. We can’t accurately predict next week’s weather. But wait; what do we mean by accurate? Plus or minus ten degrees; rain; snow? We set the parameters. But to claim to know next Wednesday’s noon weather within a half a degree would be a gamble and we would rightly say a person who was able to do it only made a lucky guess. We know the variables are too great. This is how the climate change debate goes: Imprecise forensic data modeled in computers (to overlook variables) presented to make precise predictions. But in reality that even with a consensus among the collectors, the conclusions are nothing more than broad agenda based guesses.

Hall of Fame

I take my thoughts

And write a poem
Add some music
Make a song
It’s in my head 
All day long 

If I could take your thoughts
I’d write a poem
Add some music 
Make a song
It’d play in our heads
All day long
We would harmonize
A single thread
That could play inside
A million heads

They’d know our joy
And feel our pain
We’d both end up
In a hall of fame

Before

When everything was innocent

And curiosity was all that we had
We danced to the tune of simplicity 
We loved before things went bad
There’s a place in everyone’s heart
Where events don’t mean a thing
That’s the place we always dwell
Who cares what life may bring
There’s no reason to be anxious
No place for any shame
Feelings between these youths 
Will always be the same 

The Meaning of Green

The last post was a summary of accomplishments I have observed in my lifetime by environmentalism. They have been impressive to say the least. The greatest accomplishment was instilling an awareness for our environment in individuals and businesses alike. Since it started, corporations have lead the way in clean up and enforcement. I worked with both independent companies and corporations in the oilfield. Corporations were far more responsible since their reputation influenced investors and stock prices. Just ask an environmentalist today to invest in BP or Enron. Events can happen but corporations are better equipped to handle them most of the time. Individuals vary in how responsible they are. It is no surprise that we have to adopt highways to clean them up because the few out of the many still throw things out their window.

There is always room for improvement and we should strive for it. There are current laws we need to be diligent toward enforcement. Fines are needed for the aforementioned litterers while factories that push the limits need pushed back. This is necessary with any laws we pass. But where is the money being spent today? Lets proceed on and look at what passes for environmentalism.

There is nothing like living in an area that stays green year round. Experiencing seasons is also a joy. The term “green” has taken on a life of its own and to be green has a broad meaning for many causes. But what is it about this color that makes it special? The green pigment is a means to power billions of factories that use sunlight to produce glucose. This is accomplished by stripping carbon from the air and combining it with hydrogen from water. Life on this planet depends on hydrocarbons. The trapped sunlight energy in hydrocarbons give us energy and are responsible for growth. When something dies, the carbon, hydrogen, sulfur and other materials slowly decay and enter back into the cycle. This is going on on a massive scale everywhere there is life. Mammals use a portion of this pent up energy in the form of food before it decays. You could say they interrupt the process and use the energy for themselves rather than letting it simply decay en masse.

When combustion occurs, decay is accelerated even more. Similar byproducts are put back into the cycle only it happens much faster. Every buried hydrocarbon was once a living thing that stripped carbon from the air and combined it with hydrogen from water. Unfortunately, it was buried and wasn’t able to enter back into the process. Combustion gives it that opportunity. It is a good thing and adds more raw material to the earth’s carbon cycle. Carbon dioxide makes up a mere .039 percent of our air.

Today’s money that should be used for our environment, wilderness and parks, is being diverted to chase the windmill of climate change. This movement is anti-green. Its adherents have a religious zeal as though questioning them puts the mark of the beast on practical people. It is insulting to those of us who have shown diligence in cleaning up our environment.

I remain committed to a clean environment but also to examining ideas rationally. The rationalization that we should follow along just in case they are right doesn’t fly on this site. This rationalization is used by religious groups; expecting us to follow their ideal just in case they are true. I also don’t want to bore those who are reading with tit for tat nonsense. In the next post we will examine a few principles since data can be skewed to support anything. This way we can all be better equipped to examine what others present.

The Embers

The fire was strong as I remember 

But it was quenched to an ember

The embers still had such a lovely glow 
So it stayed in their hearts, warming the soul
They glowed apart for far too long
But it started a flame like a song
Burning with such beauty to behold
It went out of control
The intensity grew and began to destroy
It’s fuel was their joy
Seting ablaze all they held dear
Beauty became fear
Few cared that control was so hard
The landscape was charred
But with smokey faces they smiled
And put the embers back for a while