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Kathy Gilbert’s editorial last week scolding the various candidates for not taking advantage of the free publicity offered by the Green River Star couldn’t help but to remind me of a scene from last year’s horror/comedy, “Jennifer’s Body,” starring Megan Fox as Jennifer and Amanda Seyfried as Needy.

Needy: Why do you need him? You can have anybody that you want, Jennifer. So why Chip? Just to tick me off? or is it because you’re just really that insecure?

Jennifer: I am not “insecure,” Needy. God! Wh–? That’s a joke! How could I ever be insecure? I was the Snowflake Queen!

Needy: Pffft. Yeah. Two years ago — when you were socially relevant —

Jennifer: I … am … still … socially relevant.

In her editorial, Kathy did little more than cry out to the world, “Don’t ignore us! We are still socially relevant!” But really, are they? The so-called in-depth reporting that the Green River Star provides to their readers is little more than a stenographer service, used to retype and relay the press releases handed out by the candidates. That would be fine, if they even did that right.

A quick look at the front page of the same issue that contained her editorial shows the real cost of depending on the local newspaper as a reliable information source. By misquoting Mr. Burnside, in a bold-faced aside of all places, The Green River Star was able to completely change Mr. Burnside’s message just by leaving out one word. It is no wonder so many candidates turn to alternative media in order to frame their message accurately and without fear of mishandling by an uninterested staff typist.

Kathy makes the claim that 80% of American voters read newspapers, but data from Scarborough Research (2009) shows that only 43% of Americans read a newspaper on any given day, and that readership by every demographic and age group is declining. Blind self importance is part of the reason main stream media outlets all over the country are slowly dying.

I have to question Kathy’s “wonder” about the seriousness of the candidates who haven’t yet responded to the Green River Star’s information request. I have spoken to at least a few candidates who have never been contacted by the Green River Star at all since they filed. Also, I wonder why, if the Green River Star is so intent on being a relevant part of the upcoming elections, they chose not to attend the forum hosted by the White Mountain Library for the four year commission candidates. Newsprint is hardly the media powerhouse that it once was, but the one meaningful foothold they have managed to keep is in local news. Even so, with eleven of the fourteen primary candidates there to answer questions from the public, the Green River Star couldn’t be bothered to attend.

It make one wonder how serious The Green River Star really is about being a relevant news source in Sweetwater County.

What a crock. I’ve seen dozens of editorials and artlicles over the last two days that claim the Bush administration is ignoring science in it’s new overhaul of rules regarding Federal agencies and how they adhere to the Endangered Species Act. The reality is that the Endangered Species Act hasn’t been ruled by science for decades. It is ruled by over-financed wildlife and environmental groups who cherry pick the the judicial system and manipulate their lawsuits to make sure a judge favorable to their causes forces the implementation of the Endangered Species Act in a way that benefits THEIR agendas.

It’s been over a decade since wolves were forced down the throats of Wyoming, Montana and Idaho, with the reintroduction of an “experimental” population. It was determined that a “successful” population would consist of about 300 wolves roaming Northwest Wyoming, Yellowstone Park, and the bordering areas of Montana and Idaho. It wasn’t until the poplulation reached over 1800 that the feds finally turned over management of the wolves to the individual states, and now a federal judge in Montana has decided that those 1800 wolves don’t represent a large enough population and has returned management control of the wolves to the feds. The numbers were obviously good enough for the “scientists” that planned the reintroduction in the first place! But it isn’t about the science is it? The ESA has never been about the science.

The Endangered Species Act has always been about one group of people forcing their agendas upon another group of people. If it was about science, animal species would be removed from their places on the endangered species’ lists when their populations increased and their risk for extinction was reduced. That’s not the way it works, though. When a species recovers enough to meet its goals, the socio(enviromenta)lists sue and get a judge in some ubiquitous federal court somewhere to change the goals.

Now, being endangered isn’t even a requirement to be put on the list. Now, the political perception of a species’ endangerment is enough to get it on the list. There are more polar bears on this planet now than in any time in history, or at least since we’ve been counting them! But, based on projected models created by politicians – not scientists – that the ice they call home MIGHT disappear, they have been listed as endangered. So, because something might or might not happen somedaym because of something that might or might not be happening in the environment, that might or might not be caused by something that humans are doing, the socio(environmenta)lists have one more piece of ammunition in their litigious warchests that they can use to shove even more of their marxist crap down our throats.

So, the Bush administration’s decision to allow one bunch of bureaucrats instead of another bunch of bureaucrats to administer decisions concerning the effects of the ESA on federal projects isn’t any different than allowing one judge to decide how the ESA is administered instead of another.

The Endangered Species Act was broken before it was enacted in the first place and is just one more example of how the federal government shouldn’t be usurping the Constitutional authority guaranteed by the Tenth Amendment – “The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.” I’ve read and read the Constitution, and nowhere does it say that the federal government has the authority to manage wildlife to the exclusion of the authority of the States.

In the end, all the ruling by the federal judge in Montana means is that people who shoot wolves will just go back to not reporting it.

-Wisdom

Editorial – An Endangered Act – Editorial – NYTimes.com

The area around Jackson, Wyoming is probably one of the most beautiful places in the world. The scenery is second to nowhere, and the fishing is world class. Why then, do I cringe every time I find myself in Jackson proper?

You know, as a kid, I used to spend my summers camping with my grandparents at the Hoback Campground along the Hoback River and at the East Table Creek Campground along the Snake River. Campgrounds that my Grandpa helped build decades ago. We made friends with the people in the neighboring camps, and did things for each other like cut firewood and cook meals. Once a week we would journey into Jackson for groceries, get a quick meal at McDonald’s, and wander through the shops around the square.

Back then, Jackson was just a little town, with a few historic downtown hotels, a couple of tourist trap souvenir shops, one or two outdoor shops, and a lot of bars. And yes, there were ski lodges and dude ranches. There wasn’t, however, a celebrity resident to be found. The cost of living was reasonable, property values were reasonable, and the buildings looked old and rustic because they were old and rustic. Back then, the people who lived in Jackson worked in Jackson, and visa versa. Everyone said hello to everyone else and common courtesy was the rule.

After the trip to town, we drove to Astoria hot springs and swam in the pool under Grandma’s watchfull eye. Then, when we were worn out, we headed back to camp, freshly showered and in clean clothes, usually with a cheap souvenir toy in our pocket and a smile on our face.

Things in the Jackson area have changed, though. First off, Astoria is no longer there. Good old Arnold Schwarzenegger bought it a few years back, leveled it, and built a gated community where it used to stand. My kids will never get the chance to swim in the naturally heated spring water pools. In town, things aren’t much better. The town is a commercial nightmare. Everywhere you look is another national chainstore, and between each of those is “boutique” that caters to the rich and famous. Emphasis on the rich part.

The square is surrounded by high dollar souvenir shops that sell “I Love Jackson” t-shirts, and $5000 end tables made of old barn doors. The outdoor shops sell designer hiking boots and $300 pairs of sunglasses. The historic hotels are reserved for the ultra rich and most of the bars are gourmet restaurants now. And yes, the ski lodges and dude ranches are still around, just way bigger and way more expensive. All the best land has been bought up by Hollywood celebrities and uber rich international jet setters. The cost of living has gone through the roof, property values are off on a space shuttle mission somewhere, and what’s worse is that most of the people that work in Jackson definitely don’t live in Jackson. They carpool daily from not-so-nearby towns in Idaho. Most of the people who live in Jackson definitely don’t work there. They’re not really the kind of people who need jobs if you know what I mean. The South side of town is populated by rich people, and the North side of town is populated by rich people who think the South siders are poor slummers. The buildings still look old and rustic but now it’s because they have laws in Jackson that say they have to be that way.

The worst part, however, is the complete change in the attitudes of the people who live in and frequent the Jackson area. At the campgrounds, the welcome signs have been replaced with lists of rules and the friendly neighbors have been replaced by self important jerks who think that a campground is just a place to sleep between trips to the museum. A few years ago one had the nerve to come banging on the door to my parents camper because they were running the generator to power my Grandpa’s oxygen machine. When my Mom tried to calmly explain to him my Grandpa’s needs, his comment was that maybe my Grandpa was too old to be out here and maybe we should take him home. As I said, my Grandpa helped build these campgrounds, and this lowlife piece of garbage had the nerve to say that? A good old Wyoming threat of bodily harm sent the guy packing, but it doesn’t change the underlying problem.

In Jackson proper, things aren’t much better. During a short walk around the local grocery store I was run into by three different people and their shopping carts. Not one of them even gave me a nod, let alone an apology. I smiled and said hi to at least a dozen people, and I got nothing in return. No one said hello, no one said excuse me, no one said sorry, no one smiled, hell, no one even acknowledged my existence. They were all in their own little worlds, scurrying around like they were afraid of any extraneous contact with the outside world.

You know, I’ve experienced that before. It was in a grocery store in California. Same atmosphere. Same fear. Wyomingites, however, should be different. We have always been friendly. We have always been courteous. We have always treated strangers like friends. These folks that live in and frequent Jackson aren’t Wyomingites though. They come from all over the world to live in Wyoming, but they don’t want to be Wyomingites.

They put stickers on their cars that complain about the minerals production on Wyoming lands, but push for changes to the Wyoming Constitution that will allow them to take excess funds from the counties that benefit from that mineral production and funnel it into their own county. They push for environmental protection laws that make the average Wyoming residents lives tougher, then fly back to their homes in L.A., New York, Paris, and London in their private jets burning more fuel in a one way trip than most of us will burn in a lifetime. They have turned this once quaint and historical town into a commercialized spaghetti western, and then alienated themselves from the rest of the state with their holier than thou attitudes and actions.

I miss the old Jackson, but fear that I’ll have to live with the new Jackson whether I like it or not, because, you see, it is spreading. The Jackson “attitude” has worked its way down through Bondurant, past Pinedale, and is even worming it’s way into Boulder. I can’t imagine it will come much farther South (no more trees) but its close enough to Rock Springs as it is. Ranches and ranchettes throughout the Windrivers have been scooped up by investors and people too late to the party and too light in the wallet to settle in Jackson, so the average person will never have a chance to retire to a cabin in this beautiful part of the world.

So I’ll stick around down here in this high mountain desert I call home, and only head north to Eastern California when I absolutely have to. Preferably heavily armed.

Wisdom