Every genuine woods-craft, woodcraft, bushcraft expert I’ve ever met is a dyed-in-the-wool, hardcore, gung ho environmentalist. They might take a deer or trap a wild hog for the kitchen table; they might whack a rattlesnake that’s settled down for the night in the dog’s house; they might pop a few rabbits with a slingshot for a deep woods supper. But darn it if they aren’t environmentalists. Talk down nature to them and they will get very upset. Knock down their favorite trees and you’d best move far away. Pollute their fishing stream (or any stream or lake for that matter) and they will make war with you. And dare tell them that they don’t know anything about the woods and they’ll go find a brujo and put a curse on you. The real, genuine articles; the true blue woodsmen are fanatic environmentalists. They know that without nature they can’t survive. By that I mean that they make no distinction between nature and themselves. And when some dude comes along and starts lecturing them about things they grew up with and then has the audacity to suggest that they don’t know anything about the woods…well, that’s taking it too far. When somebody submits that environmentalists “don’t spend time outdoors and would rather debate things they know nothing about” like I read in a recent article then I think something should be made perfectly clear: If you aren’t an environmentalist, nature freak, Tierra Primero! type then you aren’t a real woods-craft, bushcraft, woodcraft kind of person. A genuine love for the woods, for nature, for the wilds is at the heart of every real woodsman or woman. And saving it and fighting for it runs in their blood! They are environmentalists to the core.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Most articles on growing gourds are written for folks who live in temperate regions. The advice is usually to plant them in full sun, water them occasionally and otherwise leave them alone. Sound advice, I assume, if you live in places where summer temps hover in the 80s with an occasional push into the 90s. But you need a different strategy if you want to grow gourds in places where 100° Fahrenheit is common. In South Texas westward to Southern Arizona temps can go even higher.
I use gourds mainly for birdhouses; in fact, I think the prettiest purple martin houses are made with gourds. But they also make excellent water containers, bowls, decorative pieces, musical instruments, rattles and even flower pots. I saw a fellow once who made flutes with gourds.
Gourds are not hard to grow in desert climes. First, don’t plant them in full sun. They will wilt and use so much energy trying to survive the heat they’ll simply remain dwarfed. In other words, the plant will stay but a few inches high and no more. You must plant them in the shade. I planted gourds beside mesquite trees in front of my house and placed dried carrizo (Phragmites australis) alongside the plants to aid in climbing. IMPORTANT: You must water the plants daily. You need not soak the plants but instead give them a healthy sprinkling. Otherwise, the intense heat will burden the plants and they won’t produce many flowers. I start my gourds in cardboard oatmeal containers. Everyone has a “comfort food” and mine is oatmeal. Sprinkle blueberries or dried cranberries on top and you’ve got a great meal. Empty cardboard oatmeal boxes make perfect planters because once the seedling is a few inches high I transplant the box into the ground where it quickly rots to rejoin the soil it came from.
This year I performed an experiment to see which plants would thrive given a variable. One group was planted in direct sun as advocated by many articles. The other group was planted in shade alongside my mesquite trees. Within about four weeks the results were dramatic. The gourd seeds planted in full sun had struggled to survive despite daily dousing. By the end of the day the plants looked horrible. They were always wilted and seemed about ready to die. The water of course revived them but they didn’t grow beyond a few inches in height. The seeds planted alongside the mesquites on-the-other-hand thrived. They took off like rockets heading skyward. In just four weeks the shaded gourds were already several feet high. I felt guilty about the gourds planted in full sun so I transplanted them next to other mesquite trees and fortunately all of them seem to be getting along nicely. They aren’t as big as the plants originally placed alongside the trees but I think they’ll catch up.
Notice how these plants are smaller than those in the photos above. These gourds are playing catchup as they were originally planted in full sun and did poorly under those conditions.
I’m going to keep posting articles on the gourds showing you how they are doing. Afterward we’ll make some bird houses and a few other things. I also planted some estropajo (est-tro-pah-ho) Luffa cylindrical alongside some of my mesquite trees. They are doing nicely as the photo below attests.
This is a busy time of year and I’ve not had much time to post. In South Texas the dog days of summer are called, la canicula. Days drag out and the heat is oppressive. But there’s a white noise in the woods that’s quite soothing. Cicadas drone from the mesquites, brasils and granjeno. Ghost doves and mourning doves coo softly from the deeper woods. I haven’t seen any rattlesnakes, knock on wood. Neither have I seen any long distance travelers. South Texas has endured serious grief in the last few months. Meanwhile politicians and various advocacy groups and whatnot squabble amongst each other. Meanwhile the people of the region are held hostage in the middle. But of course no one seems to care. I work in my little shop in the evenings a pistol strapped to my waist. Calls from distant neighbors saying their dogs have alerted to things that might have evil intent. At ten o’clock in the night the temps are still in the high 80s. Close by a great-horned owl begins hooting. A haunting echo. I look up into the sky and see the full moon sliding behind clouds moving west by northwest. I can hear a dog barking. I know that dog. It lives at a little ranch three miles to the south. A wind scorpion scurries about the floor at my shop looking for ants. I completed a few new knives. Just for fun, a nice hobby. Full tanged survival type knives. It keeps the old man occupied and distracted. Some Border Patrol dropped by to visit. They like my large choppers. I tell them they’d be better off with the new smaller full tang designs. One of them says, “Mr. Longoria I think you're right. These are definitely more practical.” But they are fascinated by the big choppers. Ah, youth. By the time you become wise it’s time to go away. No wonder things never change.
Sunday, August 3, 2014
The tortilla maker pictured above is nearly 70 years old. You can make your own in less than an hour if you’ve got electrical tools and a little bit longer with hand tools. All you need is a 1x10 inch board, a one-pound tin coffee can and a few nails or wood screws. With a bandsaw the circular piece can be formed in about sixty seconds. With a Dremel® tool the cutting strip is removed from the coffee can in less than a minute. But you can use a coping saw to fashion the circular piece of wood and some heavy duty metal shears or even a hacksaw blade to cut the tin.
I decided to take this old tortilla maker out of storage and let it do what it was made to do decades ago.
The process is quite simple. After you make the tortilla dough you plop a lump of it into the center of the circle as pictured above. I experimented and placed wax paper under and over the tortilla maker and then I tried using a plastic baggie cut into two parts. Of the two methods the plastic baggie worked best.
Place a pad of tortilla dough on the plastic in the center of the circular piece of wood as shown in the photo. Now cover the dough with the other piece of plastic and carefully roll out the dough until it spreads past the tin lip. The tin lip will cut off the excess dough leaving you with a perfectly round tortilla.
Carefully lift the dough off the circle then place the tortilla on the griddle and cook it. It’s so simple you’re probably asking, “Why didn’t I think of that?” My grandfather, Trinidad M. Valverde Sr. made the tortilla maker in the photos. He’s been gone over forty years. I think he would’ve liked knowing the old tortilla maker was used one more time. But it’s too precious for me to mess up so I’ll go ahead and make a new one. And then I’ll place the old tortilla maker in a spot where I can look at it and think about my granddad. I learned a lot about the woods from him when I was a kid. He knew every edible and medicinal plant in the Texas Brushlands. He was a master carpenter. And he loved to hunt and fish. I miss him.
Corn Tortillas date back several thousand years in the Americas
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Looking Down a Sendero
Blogs come in all varieties. There are blogs about celebrities and blogs about buying things. Product reviews and healthcare advice; there are blogs about love and even about hate. What makes someone want to start a blog is difficult to say but I think those reasons stem from many places. Perhaps most of all it’s about wanting to share things with others.
I believe things like blogs have nudged aside the novel and the non-fiction book. That’s not to suggest those forms of communication are not popular but blogs give readers immediate access to so many things freely and—given our increasingly limited attention spans as well as the demands on our time—blogs provide education or emotional comfort in just a few words. That’s important in this hectic age. A friend told me the other day that Woods Roamer is not your average outdoor, hiking, backpacking, product-reviews blog. He said people come to this blog looking for one of two things. “They want to learn the ways of the woods from someone who’s lived it…and they want to know about the experience of the woods from a man who feels it in his heart.” He told me to keep that in mind and so I will.
Back in the mid-1980s I lived in a 26-foot Avion trailer at the edge of a large lake. In the evenings I’d look out across the water at mountains to the southwest. I’d see storms building with lightning pulsating downward over the distant peaks. Now and then I’d hear thunder bellowing across the flats. From that small trailer I wrote news articles that made national headlines and were discussed on everything from the major television networks to talk radio. When I’d roam the cow trails in the nearby woods I’d often think about the irony of talking to the world from a tiny trailer bordered by water on one side and thick brush on the other. All these years later I guess things haven’t changed much for me. As I write these notes I see several coveys of bobwhite quail pecking and scratching in the dirt out back. Three ghost doves are trying to push each other aside at one of the feeding stations. And pyrrhuloxias and green jays are perched on the branches of a granjeno. Several painted buntings came to visit a while ago. In the night I’ll hear great-horned owls and screech owls in the woods behind the house. I’ll listen to coyotes singing melancholy songs as well as pauraques whistling. I sometimes take long midnight walks down the narrow road leading away from this place just to enjoy the quiet and stillness.
I think about the people who read this blog around the world. Name a country and there is somebody there who has read Woods Roamer. I have readers in the Ukraine and Russia and in Malaysia as well. There are readers in Australia, Argentina, Spain, Germany, Sweden and many other countries. And yet here I am in this little cabin in Deep South Texas where my nearest neighbor is almost four miles away. This region is in the news a lot lately. I’m not sure what to make of what’s going on sixty miles south of us and about thirty-five miles to the west. It all seems a bit odd. All of a sudden people decide to flee en mass to South Texas? It’s not as if there is a sudden revolution or a monumental collapse in those Central American countries. In fact, things were the same five years ago and ten years ago and twenty years ago. So why the influx now unless somebody somewhere is manipulating things. Regardless, I’ve witnessed firsthand what happens along the Rio Grande when people swim to the US side. There are trash heaps like hillocks made of plastic bags and inner tubes and discarded clothes and tossed soda cans and nylon rope and glass bottles and a hundred other items that poison the ground killing the trees and nearly all the wild creatures that live there. I’ve seen the bleached shells of tortoises and the remains of raccoons and bobcats that either choked to death when they were snared by the trash or died of poisoning when they attempted to eat the refuse. That’s a story you won’t hear on the nightly news. No immigration reform advocate wants you to know that truth. Even this far north there are areas where the trash is disgusting. Known smuggling trails are littered with everything from tossed shoes and tin cans to Santa Muerte emblems. We’ve been warned by the US Border Patrol to be on guard for criminals and Central American gang members and even terrorists who might use the current chaos on the Rio Grande as a means to sneak into the country. So we keep an eye out and sometimes at night we hear or see BP helicopters flying along gas pipeline right-of-ways a few miles to the east and west. By the way, those natural gas pipelines have proven to be a significant problem for many people. The corporations that own those pipelines have no qualms about destroying ranchland for their own profit. Politicians have stolen the land via eminent domain so that their contributors in the oil and gas industry can have the land for themselves. If the land means anything to you then you’ll understand how tragic it is when these multi-national conglomerates arrive and rape the earth and pollute the groundwater as well. Some ranchers to the west of us are at their wits end. I wonder how long their patience will last before things start to happen. Those things sometimes make the news but the National Media is a fickle bunch that runs around chasing event after event yet never really comprehending what’s actually going on.
It seems that people who arrive at this blog want to know more about doing things for themselves than about what to buy at the store. A lot of them also share my love of nature and my passion for wanting to save it. Yes, I include politics in my posts and I get mail from both the Right and Left regarding some of my statements. So be it. For me it’s all about the land and by that I mean nature. I advocate for wilderness, plain and simple. If you’ve bothered to read any of my books you know what I’ve seen happen in these parts.
I appreciate the emails I get from those of you who love the backwoods. I thank you for sharing your thoughts about nature and your ideas about preserving it. There are more things to impart to you about living in the brushlands and about making things for yourself. About being self-sufficient; and focusing on the quality of your life and not the quantities in your life. About the importance of family and truth and about protecting what has been given to you for free—that which has no voice of its own unless you speak for it. Whether it is the bobcat or the mesquite tree, the hawk or the tortoise; unless you stand up for them no one else will. One more thing: I’m always eager to hear from you so don’t forget to drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Here’s a quick tip for those of you who might indulge in outdoor activities during hot weather periods. Keep a bag of salted potato chips in your shoulder bag, backpack or vehicle. Along with dehydration comes a reduction in electrolytes. You may begin feeling weak and disoriented. If your potassium levels fall below what are considered normal you will become ill. You might even throw up which will deplete your electrolyte levels further. During summer months hospital emergency rooms are filled with people suffering from precipitous drops in their electrolytes. I spoke to a fellow the other day who was hospitalized for two days when his potassium levels plummeted. He’d been working in his garden in the hottest part of the day. He’d sweated profusely and even though he spent most of his time in the shade he still came down with heat exhaustion and severe electrolyte depletion. “I thought I was dying,” he said.
I’ve employed this quick-aid method on numerous occasions and believe me it works. Salted potato chips are both high in potassium and sodium chloride. One ounce of potato chips will give you about 465 mg of potassium. By the way, a medium sized baked potato eaten with the skin delivers nearly 1,000 mgs of potassium. But to bake a potato takes time and I’m talking here about a quick first aid jumpstart to a potassium deficiency crisis. A bag of salted potato chips is ultralight so don’t obsess about weight because this is something that might save your life in an emergency. Besides potassium you’ll also get a carb hit and that can give you enough energy to go find help. By the way, dogs love potato chips—or at least my dogs love potato chips. And you know how I love my dogs.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
You’ve probably heard the saying that a survival knife is the knife you have on you in a survival situation. Though quaint, the saying is so fraught with variables that it is perhaps less a submission of fact as it is an admission of fate. In other words, a peanut folding knife is nice for slicing spines off tender nopalito pads but if you happen to find yourself lost in the jungle let us hope you’re carrying more than a tiny jackknife. Ultimately, the subject of what constitutes a proper survival blade falls along the same lines as what makes for a pretty girl. Gather ten young fellows and then parade a couple dozen maidens in front of them and opinions on who is the loveliest will most likely vary greatly. Of course, that’s what makes the world go around. And so it is with the survival knife. One person will find the classic KA-BAR® the optimum design while another will opt for a Scandinavian edge and someone else will prefer a Malaysian parang and still another a classic 24-inch blade machete. In the end the best determinate factor is you; and besides at some point the blade becomes only one part of a consortium of supplies, needs, and ultimately luck. So it is that experimentation with knives can become on the one hand a ghastly obsession and on the other an exercise in analytics. Regardless, allow me to submit the machete Bowie for your perusal as one more option in that mine-field of what might constitute a good survival knife. This knife started out as one of two Tramontina bolo machetes that had seen hard use and been relegated to a shelf in the barn. A few years ago I cleaned up both machetes but decided to experiment with the design. But then the blades went back on the shelf for about 24 months awaiting the next stage in their transition from bolo to something else. A few weeks ago I decided to finish working on one of the machetes and what you see pictured is the result. Those of you familiar with Tramontina machetes know they are thin bladed and intended for whacking nothing more than light shrubbery, vines and an occasional clump of reeds or stand of small bamboo. That’s not to say that some have attempted to chop down more robust plants with these machetes but that is taking them beyond their intended uses. Travel throughout the American brushlands and desert regions and then south into the transition zones then farther south into the jungles and you’ll find 24-inch thin bladed machetes the most popular carry by far. Tramontina is but one manufacturer amongst a dozen or so makers. All of them produce good brush whackers. They’re made of moderate grade carbon steel with the numbers 1060-1074 the most frequent.
Truth is that very few survival knives sold these days will ever be used for anything even remotely approaching an emergency. As such they are not much more than curios or toys bought to daydream, romanticize and otherwise play. The game is called “Waiting for Doomsday” and although our current depletion of resources, pollution of water supplies both above ground and underground and our ever warming climate makes such a scenario truly conceivable, the facts remain that regardless of what preparations people take an abrupt collapse will precipitate a level of chaos that will diminish human populations to miniscule numbers in short order. In the 1970s it was called “The Survival Movement” but that morphed over the years to become what are now called “Preppers.” Steeped in the duality of eschatological fear and modern-day angst the Survival Movement/Prepper fixation has morphed even further into the world of modern capitalism. Why just talk about it when we can make money off of it. I’ll sell you bug-out-bags stocked with supplies; I’ll sell you books on surviving/prepping; I’ll sell you guns and knives; I’ll sell you generators and solar panels; I’ll sell you anything I can convince you that you need. And then I’ll deposit the checks in the very same banks I claim will collapse “just around the corner.” Forgive me folks, but the older I get the more profoundly enigmatic things seem to be.
The Machete Bowie has a 9 ½ inch blade and is 15 ¾ inches overall. The Tramontina blade is quite thin measuring 1.5 millimeters. I’ve never seen any reason to modify a blade that thin into anything other than how it arrives from the factory. Attempting to turn one section into a “Scandi” blade doesn’t make all that much sense to me. First of all the steel is too soft for performing any sort of fine woodcarving on woods with a specific gravity over 0.70 and that includes a lot of tropical hardwoods. Second the blades thinness allows it to be sharpened as is to perform rudimentary woodworking if needed. In remote regions I’ve seen indigenous peoples use machetes in remarkable ways. Give a fellow a 24-inch blade machete and he’ll use it to do everything from cut reeds for his hut to make a bow and then fashion a set of arrows and then build a trap and then when he’s relaxing he’ll use that same machete to carve a figurine from a piece of soft wood. He’ll carry his machete everywhere he goes and is quick to pull it out of its sheath if he feels threatened. On a few occasions I saw the results of a machete fight. The word filleted comes to mind.
The Machete Bowie has a mesquite handle. I cut a branch in half then using a farrier’s rasp I leveled both insides of the handle. Be sure and leave the inside sections rough so that the epoxy will hold. I then experimented a bit further and used fiberglass carpenter’s tape folded over and over to form an inner seam between the two wooden scales. I saturated the tape with epoxy then pinned the scales through the tape with two nails. All was going well until I started my final shaping of the handle and I couldn’t stop the fiberglass from frizzing up. At last I smoothed things out (and the epoxy saturation helped greatly) and I decided to “paint” the entire handle with epoxy. The results are pleasing—at least from my perspective—and the handle is now waterproof.
Do I consider this knife a good survival blade? Yes I do. Do I hope I ever get the chance to use it as a survival blade? No, I don’t. So what will this knife be used for? Well, around here it will make a good woods roaming companion. I can slice away nopal pads to open up a trail and keep from getting pricked with spines. I can whack the thorns off a branch of retama or granjeno to make a walking stick. I can gut a wild hog; I can make a snare trigger; I can make a simple spoon; I can make a tripod to hold my cooking pot. This knife is like a few dozen others I’ve made that, for me at least, work a heck of a lot better for the type of foliage I’ve got around here than any Scandinavian blade or other 4-inch “bushcraft” knife. You see, one shoe does not fit all. If I were in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan or in Manitoba or maybe in the Colorado Rockies this knife would not be my choice of carry. But in the Texas Brushlands or a few miles west in the Chihuahuan Desert or out in Sonora or maybe in the limoncillo transition zones in Mexico or in Costa Rica then this knife would do for me what I would require in a knife. And if heaven forbid I needed it to survive then it would work fine…if nothing untold came to pass. And in that case a knife isn’t going to do you any good regardless.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
The sweltering days of summer are upon us and we’ve entered the time of year when rain is scarce or nonexistent. Add to that a state of nearly constant alert as tens of thousands of people from Central America have overrun the Rio Grande Valley about sixty miles south of us and thus put the region in the eye of the National Media. The influx of illegal entries is overwhelming and though we’ve seen sparse activity this far north we have been warned by authorities to keep a constant watch for those who would use the present chaos to enter the country “under the radar.” Potential terrorists, violent gangs and other criminal elements are believed to be moving through the area.
Those who have read scholarly articles on meteoric population expansion or scenarios where resources are suddenly and severely strained or where the potential for the introduction of harmful diseases is acute understand that these are perilous times indeed. For many people however this is less an issue of population dynamics and resource depletion as it is a political topic or a “humanitarian problem.” As usual, the political maneuverings are elaborate. Some people perceive easy votes while others desire cheap labor. Neither side of the political aisle is immune from chicanery. But the local citizenry is caught in the middle and they are scared and angry; and from what I have seen of the big media outlets no one is getting it right. The extent to which Washington politicos and special interest groups have distorted what is happening in Deep South Texas is profound. The two extreme partisan media organizations, Fox News and MSNBC, are spinning the facts in ways that stir their respective bases; and the fringe media on both the Right and Left is working overtime to generate emotions that will buttress one point of view over the other. All along the border and even farther inland one sees clashes between pro-this and pro-that groups. I see anger and fear but most of all I see ignorance. Regardless, I find the trite and invariably inaccurate representations from the National Media as both deceptive and offensive. I’m not sure what side of this division is more prone to distort the facts but there are a few things that should be made clear here and now. First, there is no such thing as the “Hispanic Vote.” For that matter there is no such thing as a Hispanic. And neither is there such thing as a “Latino” or “Latina.” I cannot recall from the generations past and the people I knew who were born in the late 1800s or in the early 1900s who ever spoke of themselves as “Hispanic” or “Latino.” Those terms are recent inventions manufactured by divergent ideological groups. Years ago some people referred to others as “Mexican-Americans” even though the people being discussed had never lived in Mexico. And then just this week I heard the self-proclaimed liberal Chris Hayes on MSNBC refer to the mayor of San Antonio, Texas as a “Mexican American.” But Mayor Castro is not a Mexican-American. He is an American—as much an American as is the apparent bigot named Chris Hayes. This same Chris Hayes, by the way, was aghast a couple of weeks ago when he reported that some “Hispanics” would dare describe themselves as “White.” But again, there is no such thing as a Hispanic. It is neither a race nor is it a cultural heritage. And if one digs a little deeper one finds that many of the names believed to be “Hispanic” (that has no meaning) are Germanic or French or Arabic or Jewish or Basque or Celtic in origin. It dawned on me that the biggest racists in the media are not on the Right but instead on the Left—those Liberal elitists who clothe themselves in compassion and the like but are instead as prejudiced as any KKK member. Second, let’s make it clear that ninety-nine percent (99%) of the people currently entering the US from Central America are Native American or indigenous. Their roots on this continent harken back ten thousand years at least. Today their countries are controlled by ruling families (as they have been controlled for decades) and despite one revolution after another the countries of El Salvador, Nicaragua, Guatemala and Honduras are bastions of plutocracy and oligarchic rule. And yet as sad and unfortunate as it is that those people have allowed certain families and special interest groups to take control of their countries, the United States can no longer be a dumping ground for the tired, the poor, and the huddled masses. Reality says those days are long gone. In fact, the United States is a country in decline. Many argue it is no longer a Democracy but instead an oligarchy ruled by corporate plutocrats and a political class. Some are now defining the United States as a quintessential fascist enclave. And to all you Fox News watchers out there this is not socialism; it is fascism. Corporate and banking plutocrats now control our politicians on both sides of the aisle, Republican and Democrat. Add to that reality the other fact that our resources have been plundered and polluted in order that a few can profit exorbitantly. To hell with the land, they proclaim. For example, trillions of gallons of precious underground water have already been poisoned by the Oil and Gas Mafia in the fracking process and via deep well injection. The Coal Industry has turned our skies into death clouds. The topsoil has been stripped bare in so many places that it will no longer produce crops unless heavily doused with chemicals that in turn poison our wetlands and obliterate important pollinators like bees that when gone will render our fields barren.
The sad truth is that the land, despite the political frothing for cheap votes and cheap labor, is no longer able to sustain an ever burgeoning mass of humanity. Of course, the Right Wing is exploiting the current crisis for their own gains as well. Sadly, after having endured what many consider the worst administration in the last hundred years led by an incompetent president and a sociopathic vice-president named Bush and Cheney we saddled ourselves with a naïve and feckless fellow named Obama. And so it seems that two wrongs indeed did not make a right but instead took this country down steeper and steeper steps towards oblivion.
So then where do we go from here? As usual, people will migrate towards those who are telling them what they want to hear. Thus the Global Warming deniers who bury their heads in the mud and utter inane ramblings like “I refuse to believe in the science of Global Warming” will turn to those media sources that echo their own delusional thinking. Obviously, ignorance and stupidity are not in short supply these days. For in fact, science is not based on “belief” but instead on data and thus to say “I don’t believe in the science” is to profess not only ignorance of what science is but to admit to a level of stupidity that boggles the mind.
And so yes, here we are. A country deeply divided by political partisanship. A country not for the people by the people but instead for the corporations and the banks by the corporations and the banks—and enforced by a fascist Supreme Court and all the other Hey-Boys who currently lay claim to Capitol Hill and The White House. A woman named Bachmann makes a fool of herself on Fox News saying we should sue the president while the Fox News commentator holds up his hands and essentially calls her crazy and then says Rome is burning! And you’re wasting time with senseless lawsuits? Well, the man was right-on and his name is Neil Cavuto. He’s not always right-on but in this case he pegged it.
The tens of thousands of people entering the United States illegally are being dispersed all over the country. The current administration is employing as an excuse for their actions a law that goes back to the Junior Bush days passed to curb child trafficking. Manipulations, smoke and mirrors, political scheming and backroom deals. Can’t you hear the violins playing because Rome is indeed burning!