Thoughts Illegal.

Cabin

I want to write a story, with as much of my gravitas as possible, about a man from Connecticut. He is deployed to SC, where he is poisoned and tortured by certain rednecks and a guy from NJ, while being taught agronomy and silviculture by legitimately good people from the South; like “the man by the magnolia tree”. Then, withdrawn, he is relocated and infiltrates to western Massachusetts; where he is hunted by environmentalists led by an elusive “swamp doctor” who are all bent on the idea that he might “hurt the environment“.

The cabin

Eventually, as a dashing hero, he returns to Connecticut. Yet, a confabulation of shadowy personages continue to pursue him as he arrives home again intending to rehabilitate a fallow forty acres of mixed hardwood forest within civil war era rectangular coordinate granite walls.

The timber frame interior

It’s then that the the shadow people send “the triumvirate”; a wholesome school teacher, a scarred night shift cashier, and the WWF “boy in blue”. The man dissuades the triumvirate; yet the boy in blue jumps on the man… and drags him from his house of mirrors by the catfish pond.

The man was captured in his mirror room, not in his terrarium; after the boy in blue tore down the tapestries and revealed the wall of mirror doors. Then, after dragging the man down the stairs into the medieval famine pantry near the billiards table; the sequence of procedures was performed as the man was loaded onto a gurney and medevaced.

Now, it becomes debatable here, amongst those with a vested interest in the case. Several things happened. The continuum is questionable.

The man was in restraints. During several hospitalizations, other patients have urinated on the floor. A man sat in a chair quietly. The patient in question was sedated into sleep while reciting his fourth amendment rights. Yet, this essay is not about hospital admissions or the people within the wards.

More poignantly regarding this essay, is a certain ideation regarding the politics of land use, the towns of Killingworth and Bloomfield Connecticut, and how it could be possible that “the man”, though, or perhaps because of, extraordinary federal eastern seaboard education in land use, agronomy, silviculture, political science and history could have “illegal thoughts”.

Henge plotting, vernal equinox sunrise

Regarding the politics of land treatments, environmentalism and ecology: I don’t care to involve myself much, in any of it, because both sides of populist debate are wrong. There’s an argument for fallow abandon, and another for destruction and wanton waste. And although all of it can be swept aside by permitting for concrete and asphalt, there is no wise use compromise.

I’m hoping to plant up to a dozen apple and pear trees. The Home Depot tree auger rents for around $50, and sells for about $250. In my lifetime I have learned, amongst other things, that there aren’t any real environmental laws for homeowners. Private property is the only law, and ownership conveys executive right to the trees and dirt de facto. Also, the political map of property ownership is fragmented in an ecological sense. Thus, habitat improvements across parcels significant enough to employ machinations don’t occur due to competing ownership scenarios and jurisdictions. I don’t expect there to be centrist and amicable land use policy soon.