Nature's Napster

If you leave Chicago via the South Eastern suburbs. You will encounter industrial roads by the bucketful as well as Indiana. Now, I never thought I'd find myself saying this but perservere because soon you will encounter some unlikely heroes - The trees of Southwestern Michigan. Ordinarily you wouldn't expect to hear praise for this part of the world. Not only do they eschew road signs in a cunning plan to stop the Red Hordes (Imagine this for a moment, the Chinese have crossed the Rockies and the great Plains only to be stymied by their inability to find Three Oaks and Buchanan (with an 'ew'), Niles and Vandalia.) but they put a bloody great hill in your way as soon as you realise you're lost. Bastards.

Anyway, SW Michigan's farms aren't as ubiquitous as they are in Minnesota, Wisconsin and Northwestern Illinois. As a consequence, Water Towers are the unchallenged Kings of the horizon and there is room for lots of trees. That, my friends is a good thing. Now these trees, although not quite every shape and size, are sufficiently varied to ensure a changing vista at every turn and the colour green rules the roost, occasionally interrupted by a deep purple. Having been battered into submission by attempting to walk around a suburban Chicago for a long weekend, this becomes close to paradisiacal (Spelling? Anyone.). Incidentally, here's the CDC advice for walking in US suburbia - Don't! The trees also provide a service to humanity that as far as I know carries no fee. They help to suck up the pollution caused by the industries along the Sothern Lake Michigan coast.

But the best result of the plethora of trees is the greatest of Evolutionary joys, birdsong. There have been some exceptions to this, that lady who played the elf? who gave up immortality in'Lord of the Rings' springs to mind, as does Precious (the bike, not the ring), but these are the exceptions. Birdsong rules the genetic roost. There can be no-one unmoved to song when a chorus of tweets rents the air. One particularly odd species sounds exactly like R2D2. I'm no poet but hearts uplift and spirits soar as joy rises from your well of life. It's no coincidence that such verbs mirror the acts of birds. The motley melodies resonate wildly and before long you'll be tunelessly singing the music of your youth before an audience of roadkill and startled sheep. Birds will temporarily be quietened into curiousity and, with luck, begin to follow, confused into an evolutionary dead end. Soon, they'll return to their own youthful soundtracks and begin again singing with the all the exuberance that summer musters. Next time you're out amongst all the glory nature has to offer and you hear the birds clearing their throats, before you know it, you, too, will be making up the words to 'Songbird'.

An angry old man.

During the course of my time cycling across the United States, my motto has been Honi soit qui mal y pense. The primary impulse for this has been my desire not to get a puncture. However, a correspondent to this blog has wondered where all the ranting about the failures of American Society has been.

I've tried to resist but after a few days in Chicago where I've attended a Rugby Festival, which put me in a good mood and the Museum of Science of Industry (which didn't - being the industrial propaganda machine that it is) where the only half decent exhibits were a model train set - a mode of transportation largely ignored by the American public - a second world war German Submarine and the pictured banana boat.

The submarine exhibit is extraordinarily interesting and you'll find a proclamation explaining that the US was breaking the Geneva Convention back then. This extraordinary comment manages to be both surprising AND unsurprising - really, why they sign anything is a mystery to me.

But back to the point, following the news channels over here is a painful process. Not only does there not appear to be not much news, rather a succession of talking heads explaining why the needs of the American Heartland trump anything or anybody else on the planet. Again we're back to the oil. Here's the thing, the United States consumes 25% of the World's fossil fuels. I've been to China and I've been to Russia and any of you out there with an environmental bent will be saddened by what you see in those countries. Compared to the United States, these are not as well developed. The US is probably the most developed country in the World and what do you think the individual American is doing to mitigate the damage that fossil fuels do to the planet. They are watching the television with their air coditioning at full blast, placidly believing the advertising by Big Coal and Oil telling them that the continued exploration and use of these resources is good for the environment.

I'm no longer going to depend on the youth to get angry and shall henceforth try to watch Fox News for longer than 10 seconds without spitting and report on the steps that the most advanced country in the world is taking to protect humanity from a multitude of wars caused by populations migrating from their soon to be inhabitable homes.

I'm not suggesting that the Americans should be protecting humanity but I am suggesting that they should stop lying to everyone and the rest of the World can then review exactly where their interests lie. And when the rest of the World recognises that the US is nothing but a rapacious consumption machine devouring everything it sees and then everything else it can't, like some kind of Alien locust, perhaps we will stop sticking silicone in our breasts and gullibly hanging on every word uttered by such polymaths as George Clooney or Arnold Schwarzenegger and start thinking for ourselves.

When you spend your money in a shop, think about how much finds it's way into the profits of American Corporations which will then, likely as not, donate it to their favourite politicians. You, by your spending may be partly responsible for the most powerful man on the planet believing in God (whether you think so or not -the American President is a person about which you need to care). Complacency is something that I've been guilty of for a long time, wondering existentially, what on earth can I do or whether, indeed, I have the right to do. It is our biggest enemy. Now for evil men to triumph, many good men may indeed get shot, but if you're good, the least you can do is try to stop it, anonymously if necessary.

Here's couple of definitions for you;

Liberal - Not limited to or by established, traditional, orthodox, or authoritarian attitudes, views, or dogmas; free from bigotry.

Obviously, there are others but only in the Land of the Free (to have two jobs in order to eat and be too tired to pay attention to the piss we're taking out of you) can this have turned into a derogatory term.

Fascism - A system of government marked by centralization of authority under a dictator, stringent socioeconomic controls, suppression of the opposition through terror and censorship, and typically a policy of belligerent nationalism and racism.

Does the latter sound like the Unites States to you? Because it sure as shit does to me.

We need to start with the recitation of the pledge of allegiance in schools. Either that or change it to 'Two legs bad, four legs good'.

Having said all that, should the citizens of the world choose to challenge rhe Great American Dream, expect blank stares from any Americans they meet because they simply will not understand. The previous sentence is complete as it stands. To elaborate, here's a small vignette for you.

Crossing the Chicago River was delayed by a bridge lifting to allow some yachtsmen through.

"Where are they going?" says I.

"To the lake." says a Chicagoan.

"Then where have they come from?" says I.

"Probably from the Mississippi, haven't you heard about reversing the flow?" says the Chicagoan.

"No." says I.

"The river used to flow into the Lake but they reversed it to stop the Typhus infecting our drinking water which we get from the lake." says the Chicagoan.

"Oh I see, then where did the Typhus go?" says I.

"It doesn't matter, it's not in my drinking water though." says the Chicagoan.

"Oh I see." says I.

Unbelievable.

It is Sunday morning in Chicago and the conversation that is currently taking place on CNN is revolving around this incredible premise. Because the US has spent a lot of taxpayer dollars in Iraq, then the Iraqis should be selling their oil to the United States at a discounted price.
Think about that for a second and then, when you've got your breath back, try not to cry.

USA - World Champion

This is a picture of the Sears Tower in Chicago. It used to be the World's Tallest Building but now it is merely 'The Tallest Building in the Western Hemisphere'. I'm not sure entirely how and when the Western Hemisphere appeared. Unlike Latitude which has a solid, scientific basis, it seems to be largely a construct based on where Longitude was discovered. Happily, for the Sears Tower, there are no plans to build a taller building in Portugal, Belize or Fiji, so it'll hold the title for some time.

Uniquely (well, almost) American Sports, two of which I'm a big fan of, have a self delusional trait which induces them to refer to the Top team each year as World Champion. You may be surrised to hear, particularly if you're still laughing at Zidane's head butt, that the current Football World Champions are the not very Italian, New York Giants. This penchant instils in the American people a belief that there is something superior about them and their society. You would hope that these kinds of exaggerations and distortions, which they are bombarded with from every media outlet, would raise objection or suspicion.Not a bit of it, rather because they're so busy trying to earn a living, the fanciful glorification of America and everything about it merely validates their existence. As an example, the current cost of gasoline is provoking a great deal of ranting on the TV media about the failure of the oil producers to rape their reserves in order to allow Mr Simpson of Springfield, Anystate,USA to spend less money on his impetus. It doesn't appear to have occurred to anyone to build cars that travel further than 30 miles on one gallon. Nor has it occurred to anyone that Saudi Arabia, for example, doesn't actually have to sell oil to the USA.

But I digress, the point of this piece is to tell the American people that they have a new World Champion in their midst. Last night, in my hotel room I held a World Championship, not just a Western Hemispherean Championship and this morning, as the USA slowly woke up, Nigel Webb of London, England became a World Champion Wanker.

(Millwall) Rugby's in the air. Da da Da da da!

Firstly, let me just say do not, repeat, do not go out of your way to travel along Illinois Highway 38 no matter how scenic your map tells you it is. It is not scenic, it is historic because it is part of the first transamerican road for automobiles and is known as, inter alia, The Main Street of America.

Now to the Rugby. Firstly, The Churchll Cup has arrived in Chicago, a mere day before me and on Saturday, a Rugby fest awaits.

Secondly, and much more importantly, the mighty Millwall Rugby Club has a new committee and one that instills hope in the most jaded souls. The reason for this is that (for me, anyway) it contains Rugby men (and woman), something that (for me anyway) we'd been lacking for a number of years.

There are many reasons why this committee should gird your loins with vigour, (and I don't mean that type of vigour, Mr Ward). Going from the top down, consider Mr Costin nobly reprising his role as Chairman. OK, you might be thinking that it's about time he got out of the road and it is, but presumably no-one else fancies the role and as a last resort, he's not the worst option. A quick word to his Committee colleagues - get to the free eats first. Then we have the sartorially challenged Big Vic at Secretary (it's safe for me to say that, I'm in Chicago, just don't try this at home). Big Vic's physio has been trying for years to convince him to rest his ankle and the opportunity to sit down at numerous Committee meetings is just what the Doctor ordered. Plus, he can spell. Let's hope that he can read the RFU's regulations too. That way we might avoid any more unfortunate (you have no idea how difficult it was not to write Stupid there)breaches.

Moving swiftly on to our Treasurer, Mr Leftley. This one's a little odd, I've never met anyone willing to trust an Australian with money before and, together with Mr Costin, he's bound to increase Committee Trough expenses. His aptitude for hoovering up International Tickets with his "Volunteer hours" (gag, vomit) might spell trouble for those hoping to bag a spot at Twickenham this year, especially if he increases Raffle Ticket costs. Also, he borrowed a tie off me last year and it still hasn't been returned, but let's look on the bright side. He maintains, vociferously, his Englishness and is, therefore, trustworthy. He's a nice chap and he works in a bank.

This brings us to the First Team Manager, Steve 'Crazy Horse' Fleming. The nickname's interesting, either it's to celebrate his penchant for galloping upfield, ball in hand, like a headless goat or something happened on Tour that, should stay on Tour, but will be universally known by Friday. This critical position requires someone that knows the game of Rugby and can play it. Ignoring the sense of impetuosity, on both counts we can count ourselves lucky.

The Second Team manager needs no introduction. He'll have already done that himself. His Rugby skills and knowledge need no praising from anyone, they're that obvious. His attempts at Alpha Malery may be laughable but that shouldn't stop you from appreciating his obvious intellect and wicked sense of humour. He'll need both in Spades as the heir to Miss Dipper's Llamas.

The Third Team Manager's, heretofore unknown, ability to drive will be crucial this year.

At last, we arrive at the Social Secretary. This year's pick has had me chuckling to myself as soon as I found out who it was. Mr Ward, bless you. If this year's Social events aren't the most interesting, funny, and well attended events in our short history, I'll eat one of Mr Costin's hats. The more career minded amongst you will want to avoid the Tutu and Leather night, no matter how harmless Mr Ward says it is.

Oops, I've forgotten about the Club Captain. Mr Eason is a Prop and knows how to enjoy himself.

He remains a bit of a mystery to me having only been here a year but I did see him in Dubai so he can't be all bad.

Ditto, Ruth Evans, but good job anyway.

Finally, to our fixture Secretary, Miss Dipper. Yes I know, but let's face it. Miss Dipper is our best Referee by quite some margin and can be counted on to wear a tie on Saturdays. His Rugby pedigree is well known and he, some might say, is the best 7 ever to put on a Millwall jersey. He is also a quiz whizz, best known for knowing within 3 miles an hour, the quickest speed ever attained on a bicycle (167 miles an hour by the fantastically named Fred Rompelberg - Dutchman). Miss Dipper's diplomatic skills will stand him in good stead when confronted with the intransigence of his opposite numbers and the comrades at Victoria Park.

And so, as you gird your loins ready to drive into next week, anyone fooish enough to try to stop the march of Millwall Rugby Club to another inevitable division title, rest assured that the majority of this committee have, had and will be doing exactly the same thing. They know who you are.

La Crescent et La Crosse

Whilst the World agonises about a clash of civilisations, the Christian and Islamic worlds should take a leaf out the cities of La Crosse and La Crescent's book.
These two cities had a huge barrier between them. A river. And not just any river. It's not the daddy of all rivers but it's close. When it's not vying with the Missouri for the title of the U.S.' longest rivers. It drains the 3rd largest land area on the planet. This is the Mississippi river and it plays a starring role in 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn'.
The two relevant cities successfully built a bridge between them over which people cross daily. This interconnectedness has prevented war from breaking out between these two cities ever since the bridge was built.
Crossing the Mississippi is a surprisingly elevating experience. It's not so big that it overcomes you although, upon entering the road that traverses it at La Crescent, you're informed that La Crosse is 3 miles away, but you do feel a sense of moment. This is the Mississippi flowing beneath your feet and there aren't many rivers that the whole world is familiar with. Once at La Crosse, if you're sensible, you'll start heading South and join The Great River Road. This road follows the course of the river as far as Prairie du Chien. This means that, if you're cycling and choose to spend a couple of nights while you're at it, you'll spend 60 odd hours on a journey of 50 miles. It'll be worth every second.
The Great River Road continues past La Crosse but no longer parallels the river, so you may choose to head inland. The next great aquatic barrier is Lake Michigan. Before you get there you have a great deal of Southern Wisconsin and Northern Illinois to cross. If it's anything like the road between Lancaster and Platteville, it'll be hugely enjoyable. For the most part this road follows a ridgeline . The highest ridge for some way. You'll feel a little precarious as the verdant farmland either side of you slopes away and then up again to the next ridge. The trees clump around the hollows, sucked towards the many riverbanks as if by a Black Hole. These engorged creeks, streams, brooks and rivers all career headlong towards the majestic Mississippi, all the while watering this emerald vista.
Freshly painted farmsteads compete for attention as the steel domed farm buildings, glinting in the sun, first draw then dazzle the unwary eye. Little specks of black, white and rust alert the viewer to the inevitable cattle. This is Wisconsin, after all. It will all feel oddly familiar and homey, even to the urbanites amongst us. It will make you feel at peace with the world. Unlike the Crescent and the Cross.

Math on the Mississippi

June 10 5:30:06 Pipestone - Windom 62.93 miles

June 12 8:19:43 Windom - Waseca 107.8 miles

June 13 8:57:29 Waseca - St Charles 90.47 miles

June 14 6:38:23 St Charles - Stoddard 62.87 miles

June 16 10:0:15 Stoddard - Platteville 97.28 miles

June 17 9:10:42 Platteville - Oregon 95.41 miles

June 18 3:21:03 Oregon - DeKalb 34.94 miles

June 19 4:49:36 DeKalb - Elmshurst 49.2 miles

June 23 7:50:06 Elmshurst - Michigan City 75.2 miles

June 24 8:44:35 Michigan City - Three Rivers 82.1 miles

June 25 7:58:27 Three Rivers - Jackson 73.5 miles

Tornadoes, Floods amid a sunny Eden.

If you'll permit, a word or two about Southern Minnesota is in order. After the Pipestone debacle, Minnesota has put on her Sunday best and (apart from the mad weather yesterday, forcing me to hunker down) she can be quite beautiful. She is flat which, when you're cycling, is close to heavenly. She does try to provide the odd hillock now and again for variety. However, they are mere goosebumps and, apart from an entirely unnecessary lump on the outskirts of Mankato, no match for Precious.

For any English people out there, imagine Lincolnshire. The roads are straight and the small hills keep the horizon at a comforting distance. The farmed fields either side lead up to ridges where small copses provide shade for the farmstead whilst happily shielding the less attractive farm buildings from view. Every so often a derelict barn comes into sight, begging to be explored. Those not fearful of bats would have a ball. As the road bisects numerous small lakes (not for nothing is Minnesota the Land of 10,000 lakes), birds twitter as their shadows dance on the road.

Towns and villages are numerous enough to allow a sedentary pace and plenty of stops. Satisfyingly, like small English villages heralding their presence with a church steeple, each small town can be seen from afar as their grain silos jostle with their water towers for pre-eminence. The bulbous water towers win out through sheer otherworldliness.

Tomorrow, if a crossing point can be found, the Mississippi will be crossed and the River Road south will be followed (Good thinking, Alf). Minnesota will become a memory and a very pleasant one.

The only blot on the landscape is when you reach the evening's destination and settle down to rest for the night. You'll turn the television on and be greeted by Chris Martin warbling limp pop at you. Where are all the angry young men?

Tornado Watch

As you wend your way across the Northern States of the U.S. you are likely to encounter a Tornado Watch. So far, four Tornado watches have been encountered first hand. Now, before you get excited, a Tornado Watch merely tells you that the conditions for a Tornado exist, not that you are going to be lucky enough to see a Tornado. Call me suicidal, but I reckon that would be quite exciting.
Ah, as we speak, the current watch has been turned into a warning which is altogether more real. That means, if I could understand the voice correctly, that there's a tornado in Dundee which is about 15 miles East. Oo err missus.
Anyway, tornadoes have affected every state in the U.S. and, should you ever visit, you should be aware of the procedure you should take when you are in a Tornado Warning area.
1) Put on a big hat.
2) Go to the Motel Courtyard.
3) Open a can of beer.
4) Chat to the good ole boys about previous tornado experiences.

The History Channel

History begins as soon as it is past. In that sense following a bunch of lumberjacks or oilmen about the place and then televising it could be construed as History. It's not exactly Trajan's Column though is it ? You losers.

An apology to the Discovery Channel

The television programmes taht were the subject of an earlier rant - Black Gold, Ax Men and Deadliest Catch are not, with the exception of Deadliest Catch, broadcast on the Discovery Channel. Therefore I apologise unreservedly to them and am pleased to state that you may continue watching it.

Salmonella in the Tomatoes? Err.

Subway are currently selling footlongs for five dollars. I can recommend the Spicy Italian, it's gorgeous. Today, however, tomatoes were off the menu. A spicy italian without tomatoes ?!?! What's the point? You'll be pleased to hear they gave me extra olives instead and it was still delicious although a little less red. A close cross-examination of the staff about the sign that said something like "The FDA have warned people against eating raw uncooked tomatoes (as opposed to raw cooked tomatoes) so we've voluntarily taken them off the menu." revealed nothing.

Subway aren't the only ones, many other fast food chains have taken a similar cause of action. They have taken this action because of a Salmonella outbreak. And there's me thinking it was a bacteria that needed the kind of environment most often found in digestive systems to survive. As I've said before, I'm no botanist, and before we use words like Genetically modified, I'd like to suggest we raise the Terrorist Colour Code to Yellow.

It's a matter of hours before those bloody foreigners are blamed. Does anyone know if the U.S imports tomatoes from Iran? If so, hold your breath, that'll be identified as the source and the mere mention of tomato ketchup in a telephone conversation with your loved ones will result in the FBI knowing you prefer to be called Doreen at the weekends.

My advice, stock up on tomatoes now, they'll be cheaper than gas and everyone loves tomato soup.

Welcome to Minnesota.

The first object of any interest should you cross into Minnesota from South Dakota on Highway 34 is the Pipestone National Monument. It was "...established by Congress in 1937 to protect the historic pipestone quarries ... considered sacred by many American Indians."
It's relatively interesting on a purely geoligical level, given the uniqueness of the stone, but the fact that it's the place from where all Indian peace pipe raw materials are quarried raises it to an entirely different level.
There is much else of interest to commend the park to you and so I do. However, the main thrust of this blog is to discuss the interesting entry fees. An individual is allowed into the park for US$3 which is perfectly reasonable. One man and his bike and an hour of semi-spiritual wandering for the price of a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. It's a bargain. Should you arrive in a people carrier with 5 adults and 2 children immediately after one man and his bike, all of you will be allowed in for US$5. Errr.
To elaborate, should you have chosen as a group, to have a spot of lunch in Historic Downtown Pipestone and strolled to the monument, you would have had to pay US$15 but because you drove, it's a fiver. I checked, the US$5 fee is the entrance fee for the car and anyone in it. If you don't come by car, it's US$3 each.
Petrol over here is at an all time high, at around US$4 per gallon. Not a lot compared to European rates but, as I said, an all-time high in the U.S.. Car drivers, therefore, have quite enough expense on their plates and I'm not here to demand that they should pay through the nose to enter U.S. National Parks. What I'm not sure I understand is why those that choose to arrive by a mode of transport that doesn't have a combustion engine and four wheels are essentially subsidising those that do. I wish I'd asked what a couple arriving on a Motorcycle would've paid. Up to now, the entry fees into U.S. National Parks for one man and his bike have been reasonable when compared to carloads. For example, there's no entry fee into Mount Rushmore National Park although there is a parking fee.
Just so you understand, this isn't a Family fee. If it were, I wouldn't be whinging. This is a carload of anybody. A Rugby team, a Frat house, a Bucks party.
How on earth did anyone arrive at this tariff. According to those responsible for charging it, "..I don't know but now you mention it..I guess we just don't get many that don't come by car". Further interrogation was futile, although immensely good fun. Anyway yours truly has been known to refuse to enter 'Tourist Attraction' when they've taken the piss with entrance fees before. Despite levels of lividity not experienced since that waitress in Portland helped herself to the tip, Pipestone was enjoyed immensely. Have a look at the soothing waterfall pictured.
Now, to all of you car drivers out there, this isn't personal. To those of you responsible for setting the fees at Pipestone National Monument, please take this as personal as you, you retards. What on earth do you think you're doing. For a start, it's a geological site which means that you want to keep anything that's capable of damaging it as far away as possible. That means encouraging people to turn up not surrounded by a couple of tons of steel and variable momentum. In addition, the spiritual nature demands the kind of respect usually afforded by silence, not revving engines and the slamming of doors. Furthermore, you cretins, as the National Park Service, you should be aware that the 'Park' referred to in your name is the type of park that usually discourages cars i.e. trees, grass, children, not the type of park referred to in such phrases as 'Car park'.
Oh, and there is one other thing, you buffoons, how much are you going to charge one person who turns up in car? Well?

South Dakota - Where every day's a Sunday

As I stare out the window at Pierre, South Dakota's State Capital. A general comfortable numbness rears it's head. South Dakota has been good to me. Apart from the Black Hills, it's fairly flat and although the weather has been variable. It's been predictably variable.The thunderstorms begin between 5 and 7 pm and take place over whichever town you happen to be staying in. The most interesting consequence is finding new rivers. To date, I've discovered and named 3, the Rivers Dobbo, Ash and Stretch.

The trouble with South Dakota, I think, is that nothing much seems to happen. Only today in Hayes, which according to Wikipedia, has been assigned a Zip Code, a shop bearing an open sign was visited. Behind the counter was a man on a telephone, conducting a conversation with somewhere further away than the shop's only customer of the day. Exactly seven minutes later, the customer left the shop empty handed. There is no reason whatsoever for anyone to visit that shop if they had not just spent 2.75 hours battling a vicious crosswind for 22 miles.

I suspect the shop is visited no more than ten times a year. This is South Dakota in a nutshell.

It encompasses over 77,000 square miles and it manages to squeeze in 781,919 people. You will rarely see any of them. Even on a Friday afternoon, I'm in the Capital remember, a late afternoon walk may result in a chance encounter with another human, but it's unlikely. The Capitol building is open to the public so in I went and strolled around for 20 odd minutes. It's a lovely building and I know that neither politicians nor their acolytes can't be expected to work on Friday Afternoons but did I see anyone. Did I fuck!

That was a bit unnecessary wasn't it? I hear you cry. Not a bit of it. This is simply impossible to describe, excluding the traffic, there is nobody about. The shops will have a dozen cars parked outside so in you go hoping to have a conversation with another sentient being. Are there any in there? Nope, only the tellers. I said sentient, remember.

Don't get me wrong, as I said earlier, South Dakota's been good to me and it is a lovely place. The Black Hills, although Green (I know), are decidedly delicious to the eye and the monuments to Crazy Horse and the Presidents are truly monumental. The River Missouri flows majestically down through the middle of the State and the Capital, adding to the beauty as only rivers can.

And yet, and yet, there's no-one here.

Hello! Hello! Hello! Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?

Deadliest Catch, Ax Men and Black Gold

Firstly, here's a picture of the Black Hills of South Dakota. Green, aren't they?

The Discovery Channel, which is nothing to do with the Discovery Institute, is a television programme producer and procurer dedicated to educating the world about such diverse subjects as marine biology, geology and botany. It was also, until recently, the proud sponsor of a cycling team that helped Lance Armstrong help himself to a hatful of Tour De France yellow jerseys.

This channel's reliance on factual documentaries has ensured it's continued participation near the top of my TV channel Top Ten.

However, a disturbing trend appears to be flexing itself. The Discovery Channel is foisting on it's viewers a number of television programmes which rely on a group of men going about their daily business. The first problem is that it's dangerously close to reality television, which as a phenomenon is well past it's sell by date. Secondly, I don't want to watch a bunch of blokes burping and scratching their arses. If that isn't bad enough, men as a rule just aren't pretty. Even when thy're not picking their nose.

Despite all this, there is really quite a big problem with the Discovery Channel focussing on a trio of occupations which, however honourable they are, all contribute to the continued destruction of the planet's national resources most related to the human contribution to the Earth's history, global warming, or if you want to butter it up into an 'easier on the conscience - less likely to kill me' phrase, climate change.

Fact number 1 - Chopping down a tree reduces that tree's ability to suck up Carbon Dioxide, a prime contributor to global warming.

Fact number 2 - Drilling oil means that more climate changing particulates will be chucked up into the air, thereby hastening doomsday.

Fact number 3 - Fish have feelings too. Plus they haven't recovered yet, especially in the Black Sea. (I know that Deadliest Catch is set in the North Pacific but that's not the point).

What are we to make of the Discovery Channel's choices of occupations to focus on? We are to make our minds up not to watch it.

Frankly, I'm beginning to think that the Discovery Channel is related to the Discovery Institute. As they smugly think that the world is going to end anyway and, as they're first in line at the gates because they're Christians, (the only true religion, obviously) hastening Armageddon by glorifying those occupations most likely to cause it, is a good thing, right.

Here endeth the lesson.

Presidential primaries and nuclear nincompoopery.

Firstly, I'd like to point out that 'nincompoopery' is a great word. Secondly, whilst the World slept, the Presidential Primary season came to an end in South Dakota. Frankly, everyone was getting a little bored with the whole process so it was about time. Apparently, because Hillary hasn't actually conceded yet, the nation's journalists are getting themselves into a tizz. Some, I've no doubt, are imagining closed off corridors and Hillary and Barack, alone and unassisted, discussing where to take things from here over a nice cigar.

Anyway, Nora will be pleased to find out that White men are more sexist then racist. Stick that in your powder box and smoke it.

For the record, next year either Barack Obama or John McCain will be the most powerful man in the world. Time will tell whether that's a good thing. However, I'm going to stick my neck out and say that it'll certainly be a better thing than currently.

Having visited the United States on a number of occasions and encountered a highly educated, civil, generous, polite and gregarious population each time. The mind boggled when they elected Dubya to be their president, not once but twice. Some will vehemently argue that it only happened once but, the citizens of the world have had to put up with him for eight years. Those citizens, who haven't visited the U.S., will be convinced that U.S. citizens, without exception, are entirely mad.

So, here's the question, where are all the nutters who tuck their guns into their waistband and take them to church ready to slay the emissaries of the devil (they're the ones studying elementary Biology) at the first sign of the rapture - raining frogs? These lunatics, for that's what they are, are perfectly happy to pay taxes in order to subsidise the already impossibly rich supporters of Republican Presidents (of recent vintage anyway) because it s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle etc. As a side issue, while we're talking taxes, the British Empire's death knell was indubitably the Second World War where we put ourselves in hock to the United States to continue fighting the Boche. So here's a quick question to all my American readers out there, two at the last count, who owns your debt? Whose money is making your current wars possible ?

At the last count America's National debt is US$9.5 trillion. I don't know how much money that is but it sounds like a lot. 25% is owned by foreign governments via their central banks, predominately China and Japan. Now as soon as you start looking at U.S. economic numbers, the mind does start to boggle. Suffice to say that the current debt probably isn't critical yet. Even though interest payments run at US$318 billion, which is approximately 15% of tax revenues, the U.S. government does maintain reserves of over US$400 billion.

Wait a minute, did I say reserves are held in billions and China is holding US$1 trillion of debt instruments. Oh shit. What happens then, if China finds either Barack or John a little tiresome? For example, let's imagine that the U.S.A.F. accidentally flies Ballistic missile components to Taiwan?

Is the world still sleeping?

I would imagine that China would choose to divest itself of all those dollars. There's not much point propping up a foreign government's military industrial complex if it's got you in it's sights? Now, what would happen if that happened? I don't know and neither does anyone else (not even the Bankers, I asked a couple but they were too busy enjoying lunch), but it probably wouldn't be raining frogs and no-one would be paying any attention to C-SPAN anymore, if they ever were. I know what you're thinking, 'that's OK, the Japs will take up the slack, they'll be only too happy to stick a couple of fingers up at the Chinese.' and you're right. The only trouble here is that the Chinese aren't scared of the Japs anymore and the U.S. might even view a small skirmish between the two as no bad thing. During the U.S. hosted Sino-Japanese peace negotiations, I can just imagine John or Barack taking Wen Jiabao aside and saying, "about our debt old boy, any chance of waiving it?" whilst simultaneously telling Shinzo,"Sorry buddy, we can't do anything until you 've given us our money back."

So while Mr Gates (Robert, not Bill) is sacking, excuse me, asking to resign, a number of the U.S.A.F.'s top civilian and military staff for, amongst other things, accidentally flying Ballistic missile components to Taiwan. Do not be surprised to learn that this turns out to have been deliberate ("if we hadn't done it, North Korea would've got the coin") in a cunning plan to start a conflagration between the U.S. top two creditors.

As I'm running out of time, the nuclear nincompoopery refers to the U.S.A.F. accidentally flying live Nuclear missiles from North Dakota to Louisiana last year in an apparent attempt to stop Louisiana banging on about Katrina, enough already.

Also, here's a picture of the monumental work in progress that is Crazy Horse. A man who learned the hard way America's willingness to break international treaties.

Another day, another deadline.

Today, Custer, South Dakota.
June 21, Toyota Park, Chicago, Illinois.
C'mon, England Saxons.

Double Maths

May 18 7:40:53 Powell -Missoula 57.29 miles
May 20 9:54:52 Missoula - Lincoln 79.18 miles
May 21 5:40:16 Lincoln - Helena 54.99 miles
May 22 6:24:50 Helena - Three Forks 70.28 miles
May 23 2:26:53 Three Forks - Bozeman 29.7 miles
May 25 7:52:2 Bozeman - Mammoth Hot Springs 69.84 miles
May 26 9:10:25 Mammoth Hot Springs - Old Faithful 54.71 miles
May 27 5:46:30 Old Faithful - Lake 38.81 miles
May 28 9:54:20 Lake - Cody 79.69 miles
May 29 5:45:44 Cody -Greybull 57.17 miles
May 31 12:56:33 Greybull - Sheridan 95.29 miles
June 1 12:27:1 Sheridan - Gillette 110.06 miles
June 2 6:58:48 Gillette - Upton 48.58 miles
June 3 7:33:56 Upton - Custer 65.78 miles
June 4 12:19:09 Custer - Wasta 88.62 miles
June 5 4:44:51 Wasta - Philip 44.34 miles
June 6 7:35:05 Philip - Pierre 86.06 miles
June 7 9:42:57 Pierre - Wessington Springs 103.16 miles
June 9 9:53:33 Wessington Springs - Pipestone 118.33 miles