WHY I LOVE SUSIE FELBER

BECAUSE SHE IS A KLINGON

Driving along the internet, past the grand fall foliage as displayed on the pristine nature preserve at Buchanan New York, watching the deer, the racoons, the turkeys, the eagles overhead (over 30 of them), and drinking in the natural beauty of a stunningly perfect fall afternoon, I was suddenly struck by an ugly extra-terrestrial insult to my visual sensibilities...... a Klingon Yuk-Squaw Bitch in full nastiness, acting for all the world as if she were human, or even earthly Klingon, or a decent half breed. But no. This Yuk-Squaw spouted hate, spouted attack, spouted untruth, and did so from a mouth distorted from years of imbibing the Klingon worm-dish, Ko'ach.

Worms hanging from her squalid and malformed maw, there she was, talking pure drivel about people (and things) she knew ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT.

Did this misinformation come from her husband, John Q Campbell? From her Greenwich Village Neighbors? From her Court TV peers? From her Mom, Edith? From her brother Adam, or brother Michael? I doubt it. They all seem like humans.

So where is she getting it?
Direct from her home planet, Klingon, obviously.(The home world of Klingon sends special thought waves, through a purple comedian's microphone, said to resemble a Klingon Lingam, which infects the mind of whoever arrogantly poses as a woman, while holding said mic.)

FELBER'S FROLICS INDEED!

http://felberfrolics.blogspot.com/2007/11/as-if-native-americans-havent-suffered.html



The name "Indian Point", was given to the bluff above the farm
of Jakob Lent at Ryk's Patent (later to be Peekskill),
when farmer Lent noted occasional ceremonies occurring there,
and the rather surreptitious coming and going of various
Tagkhanik, Seneca & Mahikan bands to the spot.


There was in those days a ceremonial circle on the bluff,
the outline of which can still be seen by those standing
at the fence of the power plant once so named,
and the circular structures of the modern campus
echo in shape, in pristine neatness, and in reverence,
the great importance the spirit circle held to the tribes,
who would always come to the spot under a sign of truce,
to seek dreams, or to dance, or to bury their dead.


The power plant is now named differently.
But its function echoes the old spirit connection in many ways.


As did the old stone circle, the new circles built here
connect the future to the present.
As did the old dances, the new rituals give great power.
And as did the stealthy bands who danced here,
the new power goes out from the circle, and makes a nation.


As with the praying spirit bands of old, those who act here now,
carry always in their vision, the great importance of their acts.
They are serious people. They are happy, but sober and circumspect.
No fools are suffered entry here. Not under the spirit-truce of old,
and not under the rituals of twenty-first century corporate security.


As were the Mahikan and the Tagkhanik, those here now,
are wedded to the land, to the area.
Family names familiar to Old Man Lent are on the payroll,
and their bearers live on plots of land bought directly from Lent.
Houses hereabouts are 1790 houses, or 1811 houses,
or 1834 houses, and the great grandparents are never far away,
buried, as they are, hard by, in St Patrick's old graveyard,
(closed in 1849) or in St. Patrick's new graveyard,
which just took a new burial this week, on Broadway,
The Self-same Broadway where Washington & Lafayette
marched their troops in triumph after Yorktown,
At which battle they had made our nation.


Seems there's a lot about "making nations" here,
And there is, actually.


IPEC, which had once been called "Indian Point", holds the line hereabouts.
IPEC workers are holding the line right now, in uniform.
IPEC workers left behind to hold nearer, dearer lines,
hold the line for you, for me, for New York, and Massachusetts,
and Vermont, and Pennsylvania, and all our jobs,
all our safe, secure, warm, bright houses.
Houses not like houses in Iraq.
Houses not swept away like in Sri Lanka.
Houses not burnt out by madmen's bombs,
and madmen's threats, and madmen's dreams of paradise.


Who better knows our region, our country, and our dearest needs,
than your silent brothers and sisters at IPEC?
Long may our nation be preserved,
no matter who has won some election.
Long may our country and region stay prosperous,
and free, and open to those, who just like us,
ran from madmen to seek the future
where the spirit bands had danced.


And long may the silent power run,
out of the circle, into your homes,
and yes, even into your hearts.
Because as happy, safe, prosperous Americans,
Are not our hearts free to be more happy than elsewhere?


So just for now,
Let elsewhere stay elsewhere for a moment.
Look inside your heart, your home, your town,
and admit what you know.


You know it's better, a lot better than if things were different.
Those of us at IPEC intend to keep it this way.



The stretch of Hudson above Croton Point, and below West Point ,was an industrial site continuously from at least 15,000 B.C.E.


The Kitchawank (and other) native Americans of prehistoric times found the spit of land variously known as Teller's Point, or Croton Point to be an ideal summer encampment, with the waters of the unimpeded Croton river washing away camp detritus, and supplying fresh drinking water- something the brackish Hudson could not provide. The huge garbage midden which today makes up 90% of the promontory's mass, and 90% of its 200 foot height, was deposited by 15,000 summers' worth of cast off mussel shells, animal bones and corn husks. The major industries of the Kitchawank being farming, and hunting/gathering, it is exactly and precisely true to deem Croton Point the earliest known Hudson Valley industrial pollution site, an industrial pollution site already 150 feet high, and millennia in age, when the pyramids were built.


Just as the proto-American native tribes had done, european colonists hugged the Hudson's shore and concentrated their industry where water, transport, and all the cleansing power of a large river ennabled them to live healthy, and to live prosperous, with an easy route north or south mere feet away, unblocked by hostile tribes, steep slopes, or daunting forest underbrush.


The Hudson was dotted early on with smelting operations, using the plentiful wood and iron ore to create wealth. Local produce was shipped on Hudon sloops and barges to New Amsterdam and Albany, and when the clay deposits were found, the shores blossomed with brickworks. A mile or two inland from either shore, the brave (or foolhardy) traveller found a rude neolithic reality, unfit for general occupation, used mainly as bufferland- separation strips to isolate one group from another, occasionally hunted in, but otherwise unfit for easy habitation.


Along the shore, life was very different. One might say with some truth, that in walking the path from Crompond to Peekskill, one traversed the stone age/iron age border, all in an hour's stroll. After all, the industrial age had visited the shore at Croton, several millennia before it had visited Europe, or China.



By the late 1800's, the Hudson was so heavily used-- although always in the same historical way--that visible degradation could be seen. Shores were dug out, made into bricks, and reassembled as buildings in Manhattan, providing 70% or more of the familiar New York row houses and smaller apartment houses that still dot the city's more "kitschy" neighborhoods. One might say that a resident of Greenwich Village owes a debt to the residents of Cortlandt or Verplanck, because the Cortlandters have lost their original clay bluffs, and now see huge clay holes.... ponds where small mountains had stood. Those on the upper floors in West Twelfth street could be accused of standing on Verplanck, as they gaze out their windows at New York.
One thing that is very certain, is that the prosperity of the east coast in the fin de siecle stemmed directly from Hudson shore enterprise, uplifting sparse agrarian colonies to urbane world class enclaves, on the stream of wealth from the Hudson's quarries, tanneries, mines, smelters, brickworks, foundries, factories, shipworks, railroads, farms, and power houses.


Did this activity not belong here?


Was the Kitchawank shell midden an affront to some as-yet undiscovered pristine proto-Hudson?


Was the West Point foundry.... (the foundry that won the war to emancipate the blacks).. was the foundry an affront to the Kitchawanks, as their midden had insulted the proto natives circa 16,000 B.C.E.?



When the Erie canal opened up the west, creating Buffalo, Chicago, Detroit, St Louis, Minneapolis, while spinning lines of commerce across 1800 miles of unused bufferland, was this an inappropriate abuse to the previous occupants, neolithic wanderers beset with chronic, pandemic tuberculosis, syphilis, vendetta, and malnutrition? Ought we have held back?


Could we have held back? And had we been able to hold back, to avoid insulting the pristine land with our lives, our jobs, our wealth-making, what would the upshot have been when the Third Reich needed restraint, and Europe was too cowed to provide it? Should we have traded the Gypsies, the leftists, the Jews, the gays, the politically incorrect, and the mentally backward humanity in Hitler's grip for the cleaning of the river that had made the guns , the ships that liberated them? What would history have had to say about such a trade?


In about 1965, the old wealth-producing machinery on the Hudson began to move away. Hundreds of blue collar brownfield enterprises packed it in, and left decaying hulks on the shore, hulks thought in later days to be attractive as ruins. Aesthetic is a strange quality, eternally fluid.Thought to be beautiful in abandonment, this type of structure is called ugly while in use.


Is one of these attitudes perhaps wrong? Maybe both? Is a vibrant wealth-producing entity not full of a diffuse beauty, a beauty that enlivens distant recipients lives, grants opportunities to rise, to be free, to gain wealth, to become not poor, not conquered, not lost?


If we hew to one or other of these narrow aesthetics, have we intentionally donned blinders to the whole? And if we cling to a part-view, can we not be called propagandists, and therefore evil? For is not the proffering of half a truth much more inimical than silence?


So to those who wish to not see Indian Point (IPEC)'s natural role in uplifting us all, to those who wish to blind others to the work done right here on the Hudson since a time so long ago that no history existed, and to those who wish to offer half truths, mean spirited, hateful, and poisonous.... to those people I say now. Be silent. It's the best thing you can do.