RSSAuthor Archive for Walter 1915

Scientists Isolate Antidote for Molybdenum

(Gothic)) Research associates at the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory here have successfully unleashed a new formula that removes neutral ions and most base elements common to the substance called molybdenum. The breakthrough, called revolutionary in even the most conservative circles, isolates the moly then strips it away from mountain veins in a classic precipitation by suspended vapor.

Celebrated as the homogeneous answer to the mining vs. environment issue here, the formula is expected to be stitched together using a prehistoric DNA spur solution and synthetic genomes left lying around last summer then applied undiluted where the existence of moly is most chronic. When there’s no more molybdenum, there’s no more need to extract the stuff from the ground.

“We’ll probably spray the mixture in its liquid state all over Red Lady by air,” said one activist, “then pipe clean water and air into the exposed cavities so to muck out holdover minerals. The key is to complete the distribution of the antidote without awakening the natural gas fields, coal deposits, gold and silver ore and zinc strains that have always run through these mountains. The process is simple enough and reasonably safe although we are replacing the atomic structure by occupying interstitial positions above 12,000 feet

Molybdenum is used to harden steel. In addition to military uses, the alloy is used to manufacture tennis racquets and mountain bikes. Heavy deposits are found in Iran, parts of Russia and in Colorado. For decades, most people in Crested Butte have fought attempts to mine the alloy saying mining conflicts with lifestyles and livelihoods for the majority of residents.

It ain’t cheap to buy land here however under the controversial Mining Law of 1872 the feds sold Phelps Dodge 155 acres near the town for $875 despite an estimate, by the dark-souled company, that the land could produce up to $160 million in profits over 10 years. Fractional ownership?

“That’s a pretty good chunk of land for the money,” said Marigold Sonovobitche, a realtor from Vermont who now lives here. “That was public land owned by the people of the United States who had no say whatsoever in the transfer. I just hope Snodgrass is safe from the mining companies so that the ski area can expand. Imagine what rumbling ore trucks will do to all the trophy homes dotting the hills above Mt Crested Butte?”

None of the companies who got in on the recent windfall will pay the federal gov’ment so much as a penny for the value of minerals extracted. Newmont Mining, located in Denver, has claimed an estimated 350,000 acres of public land in the western United States while Canadian and Australian companies round out the top ten recipients on mineral welfare.

“Hopefully we won’t have to deal with all that if there’s no more molybdenum,” said Harriet Condo who admits that it’s far more enjoyable riding bikes and skiing than monitoring the federal government.

“Why can’t they just mine in Gunnison?” she asked. “People down there like that sort of thing. Why can’t those bad ol’ Canadians go back to Canada or wherever they’re from? Why can’t the US invade other countries that have molybdenum and leave Crested Butte alone?”

The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency estimates that mine wastes contaminate 40 percent of western headwaters. The agency adds that taxpayers should pay the $35 billion cleanup bill that is increasing daily. That’s a tough solution to a problem that won’t just go away. The mining companies won’t clean up after themselves.

“We’re not against normal growth but tough love at less than a dollar an acre is just another taxpayer rip-off,” added Sonovobitche.

 – Alabaster Max

Dinner Nursery Rhymes

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Once upon a time a rather precocious Goldilocks went for a walk in the woods. Losing her way she came upon a large house with a sign saying: Private Property: Keep out! – The Bear Family. Ignoring the warning Goldilocks went inside. She saw three chairs. “One is too big,” she said. “The other is too soft, but the little one is just right. Somehow all three chairs got turned over and broken.

Then in the kitchen, after pocketing some silverware, it was more of the same: “This plate is too worn while the middle one is too fragile but the little one is just right. The porridge was freeze-dried. She left a mess in the sink.

On into the bedroom she went and, after checking for valuables in all the drawers Goldilocks saw three beds. “The big one is too hard,” she said, “while the medium sized one is too soft, but the little bed is just right.” Then, after using the bear’s toothbrushes and helping herself to a bubble bath, she fell asleep.

Moments later the Bear Family returned, mauled the intruder, and ate Goldilocks for dinner. When an investigation was mounted the Bears were exonerated on the basis of the Make My Day Law.

The Three Little Pigs

Once upon a time there were three little homeless pigs. After receiving their welfare checks they all bought building materials so as to construct houses. The first pig built his of straw, the second of sticks and the third of brick. Then, in what appeared to be a matter of minutes the Big Bad Wolf showed up threatening to Huff and Puff and Blow the houses in. Well, he wasn’t kidding. The first house was easy, the second required a bit more wind, and the third house was leveled with the assistance of Israeli Army units who just happened to be in the neighborhood looking for Palestinian terrorists. Then the Big Bad Wolf ate up all three of the pigs, and kept their earnest money. He would have offered some to the bulldozer crews but they were kosher.

Hansel and Gretel     

Once upon a time a brother and sister act, Hansel and Gretel ran away from an evil stepfather back at the ranch. So as not to lose their way in the enchanted forest they dropped microwave popcorn along their trail. Unfortunately magpies ate it all (duh?) and the children became lost. After a few hours they came to a witch’s house made of candy, gingerbread and icing. They peeked into the window, began eating the insulation and siding. Soon they were caught by the witch, who had no sweet tooth to speak of, and thrown into a birdcage. The witch then fattened up Hansel and Gretel like common veal on gruel and bad Mexican food for about two weeks. Then one morning she chicken fried the two and ate one for lunch and one for dinner. She was later arrested and indicted on charges of cannibalism and is doing time as a political prisoner in Canon City.

Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon another time Little Red Riding Hood was on her way to bring wine and cheese to grandma’s condo on the golf course. On the way she was intercepted by The Wolf who had only moments before gobbled up grandma, her assets and her poodle. Then he stole her RV. The wolf approached in a gentlemanly manner but Little Red Riding Hood, who held a black belt in Tai-Kwon-Do was having none of it.

He quickly split, retracing his steps to grandma’s condo. The wolf, a known transvestite, changed into grandma’s clothes and hopped on the bed in apprehension of Riding Hood’s arrival. When she called out at the security gate (which the wolf had earlier easily scaled while the guard was out smoking a joint) and the wolf answered in his best grandma voice: “Yes, dear. I’m in here.”

When Riding Hood, a graduate of Western Colorado State University, came into the room she knew something was wrong but went into the familiar refrain “What big eyes you have. What a big nose you have, etc., covering the facial features, bodily gestures, breath and encroaching fur, ad nauseam. When she said something about his big, white, shiny teeth the wolf (who had been waiting all day to deliver his line) uttered those immortal words: “All the better to eat you with!” Then he followed through and ate her all up, washing her down with the bottle of cheap white wine that was too sweet for even a wolf.

Having finished his second dinner of the day the tired wolf emptied the liquor cabinet and strolled out of grandma’s condo only to be shot fifty times by the local police who had come to bust the gate guard. He was then sold to a famous food chain and made into chicken fingers.

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill as we all know, but what happened then was shocking. Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill, thinking he had expired ate him for lunch. He tasted better than the peanut butter and jelly that mother had packed that morning. Jill claimed insanity and is currently under house arrest in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba where everyone lived happily ever after.

     

How To Meet Other Vegetables

(Denver) Hey there tomato, steamed about the coming of another summer while you’re lonely on the vine? Plant yourself in the sunny garden of earthly delights like a snap bean on a mission and who knows what might turnip.

First of all one must effectively squash all notions as to parsnips that may occur in the single world. All vegetables are different and the seeker must employ a variety of tactics in each case. Example: If you’re attempting to get the attention of an early potato don’t show up a half hour late. If you are attracted to a sweet Bermuda onion don’t hang out in Montreal.

While relationships between vegetables like kohlrabi and Chinese cabbage are rare they are not impossible just so long as both parties take into account differences in religion and ethnic origin. The Swiss chard can be happy with eggplant but only if they understand each other’s needs and leave the baggage at a storage unit.

Nobody wants to be seen as an afterthought. Even okra, parsley and peppers need to feel like the special of the day too. Never mind that corn, tomatoes and sweet potatoes are seen as supplements to the major fare. NOBODY WANTS TO PLAY SECOND FIDDLE ON A BED OF RICE. It’s far more effective to start the relationship with an equality and pick and chose accessory characters as you proceed. A pumpkin will not act in the supporting roll. Head lettuce wants to be in charge. Watermelons have lots of seeds.

Perhaps the most important element necessary for a strong bond is personal appearance and behavior. Nobody likes a dirty cucumber or lentils with improper hygiene. Kale that has turned soft will never be harvested. This goes for peas, okra, radishes and onions too. In every love relationship there are rhubarbs that cannot be avoided but they will be less frequent if one follows a constitution that fertilizes as well as waters.

Finally, and possibly the most important: Don’t hang out in endives if you want to meet quality crops. It’s better to go to the nicer places. Some great spots to meet other vegetables include outdoor markets, perennial organizations, canning seminars, greenhouses and some truck farms. Places to avoid include the frozen food aisle at the grocery, transient produce roadside stands, and as we have already said, smoky endives of all sorts.

We sincerely hope this concise advisory will help you stay warm and cozy this coming winter. Always remember: You have to dig in some dirt, my friend, if you want that garden to grow.

“The conflict in Europe was terrible and violent, Amanda (former slave and survivor of the Valentine Farm Massacre) told her sailor husband years later, but she took exception to the name. The Great War had always been between white and black. It always would be.”

– from The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead.

COLORADO MAY RAISE LEGAL DRINKING AGE TO 55

(Denver) “Sorry but you don’t look a day over 50. I’ll have to see some ID.” Silly as it may seem that could be familiar chant if HB 4559-K passes next week, heralding in a new relationship between Puritanism and alcohol consumption for most Coloradans. The bill, called extreme by detractors, requires that a person be at least 55 years of age to buy beer, wine or spirits.

Sponsors of the bill, including firebrand Rep. Oral Noise says the concept is solid and will benefit everyone by introducing the concept of maturity to the drinking table.

“Everyone agrees that alcohol creates the breakdown social order when abused,” explained Noise, who reportedly consumed up to three quarts of flavored vodka per day for 40 years before getting on the temperance wagon in March of this year. “And who among us does not have sinful tendencies when moderation is questioned. This bill defines the legal side of the question. Let the sociologists fight for the thirsty masses.”

When asked about the failures inherent to Prohibition and the War on Drugs Noise told a semi-coherent audience here that these were good programs that were subverted by immoral values and weakness.

“I don’t care about the scientific statistics. All I know is that if booze was harder to buy there would be fewer people imbibing,” he offered. “Here on Colorado they all have mounds of cannabis and lord knows, bags of magic mushrooms. Why, pray tell, do they need fire water with which to wash it down? On my hope of heaven, I had to act and I am proud of my efforts,” he trembled.

Alluding to the continued presence of drunks on the highways Noise blamed the crude availability of alcohol that works like a woodworm on the brain. By the time people reach 55 they are either too tired or disinterested to create problems for others by their drinking.

Noise says 55 is appropriate since it matches what was once the national speed limit and is easy to remember. In addition he says 55 is a rounded number that can be quickly identified by even that quasi-interested, somewhat doltish liquor clerk.

“We have yet to see conclusive numbers indicating the arrests by the police on our highways has improved the situation,” continued Noise, now accompanied by a full orchestra pumping out a 1930’s German ditty. “If they were successful in the attempts to keep drinks off the road they would have installed billboards all over hell praising themselves for serving and protecting.”

The liquor industry has poured millions into a campaign to defeat the bill saying that its passage would only succeed in creating a population of criminals and that it would destroy the livelihood of millions worldwide.

“No one is in favor of drunks on the road but this crackdown is about money and little else. People will do what it takes to escape the hum-drum that often exists in daily life,” said one opponent of the measure. “Draconian legislation such as this implies that it is the drink itself that threatens the social system when we all know it is the abusive drinker.”

Many of the state’s residents have already are plans to immigrate to Utah where liquor laws are more liberal, if the bill passes the Senate.

– Fred Zeppelin

Horseshoe Defends Kellyanne-Huckabee Endorsement

(Colona) The San Juan Horseshoe today bolstered its support for a Conway-Sanders ticket in November 2020. Saying that although the candidates were “illogical puppets and disjointed at the forehead” the two were the funniest possible candidates available unless one allows comedians, cartoons and/or small animals into the mix.

Both Kellyanne Conway and Sarah Huckabee Sanders are former Trump officials with Sanders gone and Conway half out the door due to alleged improprieties associated with the Hatch Act (an ax to grind) during green chili harvest in 2018. (“Blah, blah, blah…When does my jail time start?”)

“We are in business to make people laugh,” said a spokesperson for the newspaper/website. “These two are the most ridiculous possible candidates since Fritz-Ferraro in 1984 and the now famous “Where’s the Beef?” campaign against Ronald and Nancy.

Orwellian? No. Stupid? Yes.

The Horseshoe’s angry and often elite liberal base voiced disapproval, even anger at the choice, while a worried evangelical base is still counting fingers after a firm handshake with The Donald on the White House Tuesday. Many within this firm Trump base believe their man was part of the Normandy landing in 1944.

“That’s where he got them bone spurs,” said one.

Readers are reminded that the Horseshoe traditionally endorses more than 3000 candidates each election year, changing horses on wedding night and denying having ever supported anyone. The editorial staff feels strongly that anyone seeking office is a power hungry bag of hot air and has no solutions to the problems of the nation.

-Fred Zeppelin

Former Mining Town Wrestles With Organic Tourism

The sun came up over Escucha al Monte the same way it had for who knew how long. It came up the same as it had before the town ever existed, when the site was only a patch of wild meadow, accented by steep granite cliffs, where Vulcan Creek tumbled out of Carne Canyon wandering to the muddy Tabeguache River to west. Butter Lake dominated the village scene. This was not some reservoir compliments of the Corps of Engineers and the Chamber of Commerce, but the real deal compliments of the relentless river.

The steep and lonesome trail up to Camp Hollow and the played out Cuckhold Mine

Everything in the town focused on that body of water, including the small hospital, where newborns and those on the way out of it could enjoy the best views. They could see the Super Whosit (still family owned and operated, featuring hard wood floors and employees who had worked there for thirty years. They could gaze into the picture window at Flora’s Coiffures and almost taste the conversation there. Flora’s seven children had run off back east somewhere and become lawyers. They rarely visited Escucha.

The first residents fished these streams and rivers and hunted deer and elk near a large stand of ponderosa that bordered the small park to the east. Their summer lodges stood where the sun hit the canyon walls. Dismantled every November they were hauled down valley to the confluence of the Kinnick-Kinnick River, southwest to Uncompromiso Creek and the more tolerable winter climate. In later years miners would walk that stretch up to the Camp Hollow or the more remote Cuckhold Mine. Tourists hoof it today.

At one point in the town’s bawdy history there had been 22 brothels and at least 40 places to buy a glass of whiskey. With the mines shut down the former red light district featured summer melodramas in the remodeled saloons and carpetbagger real estate in the parlors. False front emporiums sold mindless souvenirs in plastic and glass and T-shirts that read Escucha Mucha, Budweiser and Harley-Davidson. The aroma of Real Texas barbecue was everywhere even though this wasn’t Texas, at least in the winter. The old train depot was now a bed and breakfast. A cell phone outlet sat where the old coal yard had been. The churches outnumbered the public houses two to one.

Old Escucha, site for a multi-million dollar resort and golf course on the edge of town.

But that’s only downtown. Uptown, farther into the afternoon shadows and on the other side of Vulcan Creek and up on the Lake the real Escucha flourished. It is comprised of the fire house, the aforementioned Whosit Market, two junk yards, Red’s Gravy Heaven, the Hibernian-Croatian Club, a feed store, several outdoor clothing stores, a bookstore, the bank, an auto parts store, with small cabins and house trailers wedged in between. The town’s bookends were city hall and the two-room offices of the Escucha Star, the county’s only award-winning weekly newspaper.

A giant American flag, 1000 feet by 800 feet fluttered high above the Happy Face Mortuary while another banner of red, white and blue waved above the bank. The second one is smaller and taken in every night by an honor guard of loam officers under the watchful eye of Attila II, the town’s “slower” boy.  Only last week the bankers had decided to invest in a new flag, bigger than the one that flew above Happy Face.

Out along the highway where Barbie’s Buffalo Ranch and Massage meets Dead Angel Gorge, which drops off an amazing 1390 feet according the Bureau of Survey and Management, stands the real tourist attraction, The Giant Dinosaur Turd. The 200 million year-old reptilian loaf, an archeological treasure dating back to the Triassic Epoch now featured ten foot fences and more than 300 little brown and white Forest Service signs, in over 20 languages, meant to inform and direct traffic.

Despite all the trappings, the dinosaur turd is real, having been discovered by students from the Normal School of Mimes, while out picking wildflowers in 1893.

Before that everyone in Escucha thought the large brownish object was part of a meteor or tailings pile. Some thought it had been a landfill for the nearby Ute village. Nobody ever guessed it was dinosaur dropping(s). Although the discovery was a blessing to the local economy, the situation had now threatened to get way out of hand since the giant turd was really not so giant. It was eroding thanks to the throngs of pedestrian traffic that visited the place in the summer.

Executive Offices of the Giant Dinosaur Turd in Escucha

“We had almost as many people walking along the observation trails last year as they had at Mount Rushmore,” bragged Shivaree Tripe, number two person at the local chamber of commerce.

These trails, or Poop Decks, as the residents of Escucha called them, were built by slave labor compliments of the Forest Service and the state correctional institute in Pinkyville. Admission ($10 for adults. Children and seniors $15) goes toward free weights, dirty movies and other tools of rehabilitation at the prison. About half the money is spent on the extensive daily maintenance of The Lizard Turd, aka The Golden Goose.

Enthusiasts are warned that many of these crowded walkways and primitive passages become slick in the rain and have no guard rails. Each year there are accidents but usually no fatalities due to the presence of rescue workers with ropes, sirens, pulleys and hats that say “Rescue Me”.

“The incredible number of visitors has permanently taxed our resources,” flinched Tripe. The body heat from all these people, many of them fossils in their own right, has caused the giant turd to melt, even though it was considered petrified. Some days, after a particularly brutal assault by RVers, tour bus inmates and people who saw the four-color brochure, an annoying odor rises from the vicinity of this monument to dinosaur regularity, the largest of its type anywhere on the planet and most likely the solar system.”

A multi-million dollar Tourist Village is in the planning stages featuring theme gift shops, swank eateries, a five-star hotel, spa and golf course within spitting distance of the natural landmark. The destination resort, three miles up Snow Monkey Pass, will be bookmarked by two scenic viewing areas and a 40-foot television screen broadcasting photos of the area 24-hours a day.

“If we could get these bastards to visit the Giant Turd in January and February that would be something to brag on!” said Tripe, “You can be sure I’ll be pushing my dome project at the next economic development meeting. There are tons of federal grants for just this kind of thing.”

– Kevin Haley