I think that planter goes over here. No, no… not there. Just behind the divider, where no one can see it. That’s right – perfect. Now… where to place the emerald city?
Yes, friends… this is Hammermill Days, the blog chronicling Big Green’s bizarre existence. You haven’t stumbled onto some daycare center message board. I’m just doing a little compassionate backfill for one of our number who does not respond well to his responsibilities. I’m speaking of our mad science advisor, Mitch Macaphee, who cannot take it upon himself to devote a few stray hours to the upbringing of his invention, Marvin (my personal robot assistant). Oh, the trials of surrogate fatherhood! Now I’m left with filling in for an absentee mad scientist. This is awful – I’ve forgotten all the rituals, the nostrums, the pat-on-the-head kind of shit. And, well… Marvin is so damn needy. Something in his programming, I think. He craves approval almost as much as he needs 3-in-1 oil. In spite of this, I made the mistake of recommending an amateur theatrical debut for our mechanical friend. (I’m not good.)
Okay, so… Marvin is going to be in the local school production of the Wizard of Oz (in three acts); he’s appearing as the tin man, of course (no costume needed), and he’s freaking scared to death. Why? I don’t 
know. Stage fright. Some kind of computer virus. What am I, psychic? I told you, I’m no good at this parent or guardian thing. I can’t even keep track of my pet rock, let alone a full-grown robot. Sweet mother of pearl, why can’t Mitch take some responsibility? He’s just obsessed with his work, that’s why. And that’s enough to scare the paint off the walls, quite frankly. I’ve told you about the anti gravity experiments. That’s small potatoes, friend, very small. Listen… you didn’t hear it from me, but old Mitch has been working his bony fingers to the marrow cooking up this global warming phenomenon everyone is talking about. I suppose you thought it was the result of tailpipe emissions and coal-fired power plants, eh? Well…. think again.
Mitch started getting interested in climate change a few years back. Think of this as a kind of mea culpa, actually. You see, we threw together a little number we call “The Dino Song”, which goes a bit like this:
Dinos had a good time on the trolley!
Dinos had a good day at the fair!
Dinos had a holiday ’til the sky turned mean and gray
Their underbellies went a-gushing jelly and they died in searing pain!
That jolly little number became a particular favorite of Mitch’s, not because of its musical or poetic merits (or lack of same) but because of the subject matter. Hmmmmm, he thought (yes, he sometime generates visible thought bubbles), If the sky turned mean and gray then, why not now? Which was followed by an utterance along the lines of BWAA-HA-HA-HA-HA!! … which I believe is the Pashto term for “this is good.” Anyway, that’s when he got to work.
Hey… sometimes a man can’t be a good parent because he expends all his goodness elsewhere. In Mitch’s case, it’s a little different. So that last observation, well… just forget it.
President Obama has announced that the “buck” stops with him when things go wrong within the elaborate intelligence apparatus that supports airport security and anti-terrorism in general. But what about with respect to another type of terrorism – the kind we perpetrate on others? Is he willing to accept that “buck” as well? His predecessor certainly wasn’t. Like under Bush II, civilians have been the target of our military in Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen, Pakistan, and, indirectly, elsewhere. According to the U.N., more than 2,000 civilians were killed in Afghanistan during the first ten months of 2009, about 450 of which are attributable to the U.S. and our allies. That number is probably low, since in every conflict the line is deliberately blurred between combatants and non-combatants, but even if we accept it at face value, 450 deaths represents a lot of suffering, disaffection, and anger. I’m not sure how it is any different to kill hundreds of peasants with unmanned drones than it is to blow up buses or passenger airliners – both are indiscriminate, heinously destructive, and criminal. Both shield the true perpetrators. And both seek to advance a political cause through faceless violence. Will Obama take responsibility for that?
Obama’s administration is, like many of its predecessors, propelled forward into bad policy by the criticisms of some very cynical voices, including some who were primarily responsible for the catastrophic failures of the last regime. It occurs to me that one of the more common Cheneyisms – that we are less safe from attack under Obama – may, in a sense, be grimly true. Cheney, Bush, and his crew nearly destroyed the U.S. empire. They led us into two disastrous wars that drained us of blood, treasure, and international credibility, to say nothing of the death and damage they dealt to the people of Iraq and Afghanistan. Their idiocy at governing knew no bounds, as the destruction of New Orleans and the implosion of our economy amply demonstrated. This is well-known to the leaders of Al Qaeda, I’m certain, just as I’m sure they are aware that terror attacks (and attempted attacks) redound to the political benefit of people like Bush and Cheney. Ergo, if they attack us, they know we are likely to turn around and elect people who will surely bring this country down, and its empire with it.
Hello, creatures of the Web. It is I, here with news of what’s happening in the remote corner of Central New York (itself a remote corner of somewhere else) known as the Cheney Hammer Mill. Stretch out your banjo strings, grease up your mouthharps, and start to wail – we’re ready for some good old rustic hillside music, the kind you hear wafting through the pines on a late summer evening in the lower Adirondacks (or, perhaps, the upper Catskills… somewhere around there). Foot-stomping good. Yee ha. Do I sound convincing? Yeah, I know… not. Well, be that as it may, we do crank out a mock-country number every once in a while, usually some kind of political commentary, like 
suggested to Marvin that he should get more involved in the community, maybe volunteer somewhere or take part in community theatre. In fact, the local theatrical society is doing a production of The Wizard of Oz, and there’s a part in that show that would be PERFECT for Marvin. (That’s right – Dorothy. You see the resemblance too, eh?) Still, he seems kind of reluctant. I asked Matt to have a word with him. I asked him again. And again, I’m not planning on asking a fourth time, so I should probably ask Mitch Macaphee, Marvin’s inventor, to get involved. Take a little interest in your son, Mitch! (I’m almost certain he reads this blog.) Come on, now – do the decent! Fatherhood means more than dropping off a few alkaline batteries every other week and a card at Christmas. Get with it!
say nothing of his more serious failings. What the hell, he’s nearly incinerated the planet at least six or seven times since taking up residence with Big Green. (And that was just while mixing his famed “atomic” high ball at our infrequent cocktail parties.) Then there are the engineering experiments, the cooked-up creatures, the floating appliances (our forty-year-old clothes washer was suspended four feet in the air for the better part of a week one time – Mitch’s handywork.) Small wonder Marvin is so screwed up in the head. Look at the example his inventor is setting! I can only hope that one of Mitch’s new year’s resolutions will be to stop doing practically everything he spends most of his time on right now. Seems unlikely, but one can hope.