Something Stinks in Oregon’s Malheur County

It’s odd how Bill and Hillary Clinton’s names pop up in the strangest places. This time in connection with the now-besieged Malheur National Wildlife Refuge.

Pulled directly from the BLM’s website:

“In September 2011, a representative from Oregon Energy, L.L.C. (formally Uranium One), met with local citizens, and county and state officials, to discuss the possibility of opening a uranium oxide (“yellowcake”) mine in southern Malheur County in (emphasis mine) southeastern Oregon. Oregon Energy is interested in developing a 17-Claim parcel of land known as the Aurora Project through an open pit mining method. Besides the mine, there would be a mill for processing. The claim area occupies about 450 acres and is also referred to as the “New U” uranium claims.

Now couple this April 23, 2015 headline in The New York Times, “Cash Flowed to Clinton Foundation amid Russian Uranium Deal,” and you have the making of a great conspiracy. In a nutshell, the Russian State Nuclear Energy Corporation, Rosatom wanted to expand their operations into the U.S. and needed a way in.

So, in 2013, Rosatom acquired a Canadian company named Uranium One as part of a deal which involved multiple parties. This is the same Uranium One that is now known as Oregon Energy, LLC, according to the BLM’s website.

There is more to this story than meets the eye.

Advertisements

Page 209, Sentence Six

Recently, someone sent me a post on Facebook inviting me to pick up the book nearest me and thumb to page 209, then share the sixth sentence on the page. I followed the instructions verbatim.

The closest book was to the left of me; Glenn Beck’s top seller, “It is About Islam.” I’ve found this is not a book to be read before bed time.

As quick as a wink, I opened the paperback to the specified page and drew my pointer finger down the required number of sentences. I quietly closed the book and set it aside, deciding not to play along.

Instead, I simply sat there and pondered the single word my sentence provided: “Apocalypse.”

Exercising My Insomnia

Insomnia is a real son-of-a-bitch! I hate it when I get so tired I cannot sleep because it causes my mind to trigger and I fall into self-pity.

Honestly — this writing is nothing but an exercise in wasted time, meant only to help me clear my mind of the clutter which ails it. Being alone much of everyday gives one time to think and re-think, then eventually over-think everything.

Late night and early morning darkness doesn’t help either. Thus, I write whatever pops into my pea-brain.

A friend told me that ought to look to the future. Unfortunately this person has little to no idea that with nothing to look forward to, the past is all I have at present.

And time is running out on me. I have lost all avenues of escaping the hole I have found myself in as I struggle to hold on to what structure remains in my miserable life.

God knows how angry I am at the destruction on of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” My anger turns to fury when I encounter idiots that are a part of the destruction.

Being easily prepossessed towards melancholia as I am – I understand how loneliness and a lack of success have worn on me. I’m tired of acting as if everything in this effed up life of mine were okay.

Obviously, it isn’t or I would be asleep now and not worried about my present state of being. And worse yet, it pisses me off that when a fracture appears in my public façade and I mention it, I hear, “It’ll be okay,” or “It can’t be that bad.”

And all I can think is, “Oh yeah?! Wanna bet?! You’re life looks pretty damned great from where I’m standing – mine’s in the shitter and worse yet – I’m the toilet paper!”

The whole damned thing makes me wonder what I’ve done wrong. In the end, I know there is really nothing wrong – I’m jus’ exhausted from a lack of sleep and I feel like bitching.

Now that that is all out of my system, perhaps I can get some shut-eye.

Getting Identified

Perhaps everyone should get themselves arrested at least one in their lifetime, that way authorities will be certain to identify you should you be found dead alongside a random roadway.

Here’s a recent article out of Northern California:

“A body found in Southern Humboldt has still not been identified. Last Thursday, on Alderpoint Road near Dyerville Loop, a resident in the area walking their dog, discovered the body alongside the road.

No identification was found on the male victim and a fingerprint test was given. Unfortunately, no name has come up in the data base and law enforcement needs help in identifying the deceased.”

Yes, I know it is a sad story– but see how my mind works?

Strongest Suites

This is my ‘ego’ speaking – but I think a couple of my strongest suites when it come to writing are ‘headlines,’ and ‘conversations.’ Some times I come up with both and nowhere to use them.

For example, I came up with a headline that I doubt I will ever use: “The Politics of Stupid.” It can easily be applied to anything life, but after several months, nothing has come to mind where I could use it.

Then there is the case of coming up with random conversation – something that generally pops into my brain while I’m doing something else and it get stuck there until I can write it down. Many times these bits-and-pieces of conversation have nothing to do with nothing.

My most recent masterpiece spawned itself while I was taking a shower. Yeah, most folks sing in the shower – I talk to myself, sometimes in the third person.

“I’m chief among morons,” he said.

Puzzled, she looked at him and asked, “Why would you say that about yourself?”

“Because it’s true,” he answered with flatness in his voice.

She didn’t respond, knowing he was in another one of his moods.

But then there are also those times when I sit at the kitchen table, cup of coffee near by and stare at a blank page in my note-book, waiting for my muse to come and tap-dance across my forehead. That’s when I come up with some of the more interesting thoughts about myself and life in general.

“All my adult life I did every manly thing I could to make up for being an overly emotional child. Now look at me – I’m physically bankrupt,” or “The more skeletons we expose from our personal closet, the more we tend to create.”

These are the times when I think, “I’ve spent way too much time alone today.”

Animal Crackers

Mary brought home some Animal Crackers. Mind, you I hadn’t tasted one in a very long time, so I couldn’t wait to pop one into my mouth.

The little biscuits come in a bag now and no longer the rectangular box with the string handle. But that didn’t matter to me as I dug into them.

A hippo – that was the first animal out of the bag. But wait I thought, “Are my hands that much bigger since the last time I had one?”

Never mind, I tossed the cracker in my mouth and started chewing. Instead of the sweet delectable goo, I found myself with a mouthful of flat, sticky dough.

This wasn’t anything at all like my childhood memory.

Alas, like so many things from kid-hood, someone in the hope of making a better, healthier or profitable product had vanquished another small pleasure in life. Half-chewed, I pulled the paste from my mouth and offered it to our chow-hound Lab.

Even he turned his head away, not willing to sample the food he had been so heartily begging to be given. So I dropped it, along with the remaining bag of cookies in the garbage can.

Being a grown up shouldn’t have to be so disappointing.

Rain Showers of Success

Thank goodness for notebooks. My mind is a cluttered mess and if it weren’t for spiral notebooks, I’d really be jammed up in the thought department.

“I…I…I…,” is how I want to begin every sentence as I write. I don’t want to sound conceited – but at this hour of the morning I am being very single-minded.

Last night I went to bed very depressed. A friend of mine has moved forward with light speed into broadcasting, while I’ve languished over the past two years-plus without employment.

It is beyond my understanding how all this works. Some people find success or it finds them – while others like me seem to fail at every turn.

Then I have a friend, who out of her kindness reminded me that God has a plan for me. She instructed me to talk to God about this situation.

This pissed me off even further. I cannot for the life of me fathom why God wants me to sit on the sideline like this when he knows a man must work to be worthwhile to his family, society and himself.

It is my nature to see the rain clouds before it begins to pour. But once it starts pouring, I cannot help but notice that which is affecting me the most; the rain.

So far, in the last couple of years, all I have are rain showers when it comes to success.