The brittle and harsh tone is meant to remove the comfort that would be natural in this setting.
Industrial agriculture is always unmoved and unchanged by the natural world, “like plastic bottles on the sea,” until, through its increasingly impervious influence; it changes the natural world itself.
It’s a world without beauty; permitted by an age without memory.
This singsong poem is a reprint of the end piece from Family Farm Fun. It’s the kind of repetitious word use that dispels fears. A rant that creates an obstruction, and reinforces the speaker’s beliefs against any threatening idea or thought.
The change in typeface is intended to slow the reader’s recognition and present the words like dropped stones.
In this CAFO version of the sing-a-long, the number keeps on increasing. 40,000 cow CAFOs already exist. Where will it end? 80,000 . . . 100,000?
Locally; the few remaining traditional farms and factory farms alike are being ploughed under as the biggest CAFO in New York State is continuing to spread like a shit stain across the rural landscape. It’s only a mile away.
I tried to keep what I loved about the flow of this great poem, and paint on some of what I hate about the flow of “nutrient” toxic waste. I think the addition of color effectively sets the mood for this reprint of the black and white version in Family Farm Fun.
This is the ninth song for “Bigotry: The Musical” so far. There are probably 6 or 7 more to complete the book. I’ve divided the songs into 3 acts and the plot line has become clearer: a rural couple are forced off their land by bureaucrats and are resettled into an urban world of subsidized poverty – jobless, powerless, and surrounded by criminals; they must try to survive the establishment of a secular theocracy.
As a kid; I looked through a book of sketches made by an army soldier in the South Pacific during WWII. Many of the drawings featured dead bodies; and the air around them was always filled with flies.
In rural Cornithaca County; flies, factory farms and death are certainties, but factory farms and death are never linked together. The high rural cancer rate is counted as a “lifestyle” issue.
A respirator that would once have been worn in a joke about barn odors; is now a life-saving protection from liquid manure off-gassing.
I remember an incident where a home exploded due to a natural gas leak. The leak was in a neighboring house; but the heavier-than-air gas flowed down into a lower level where it collected and ignited.
Factory Farms occupy a high ground of money, influence, and legal cronyism — so you know what flows downhill to their rural neighbors.
While I’m writing this; I keep hearing in the back of my mind: Jumping Jack Crack it’s a gas, gas, gas . . .
Knowing how to navigate your way through a maze of shadow-government regulatory shortcuts is sometimes just a matter of knowing the right people. Often, public oversight is seen as a stumbling block to the smooth functioning of established business-bureaucrat partnerships, and their special understandings.
This difficulty has been overcome in Cornithaca County, where the people have no meaningful representation in government, and the investigation of regulatory misconduct is handed over to the parties involved; for their sole adjudication.
They’re “so important” and they “define the county” are phrases that are frequently used by county government to elevate powerful interests above the everyday requirements of ethical and responsible action.
There is no ethical voice raised in opposition . . . they’ve taken care of that as well.
Farm-cheesi – The “Game of Flies” is adapted from the Indian cross and circle game Pachisi, and its many variations. The goal of the game is to move the maggots from the player’s carcass home to the center space where they become flies.
The 17” x 17” game board [pictured] is in four parts to be copied or scanned and printed – or cut out by utilizing two books.
You can also cut out maggots and attach them to the “Cornithacan” tokens from the book; achieving a sort of “African Queen” leach effect.
Living around a factory farm; you have to do something with them — if only we could train them to synchronize in their swarming and blow back the toxic fumes.
Simple and graphic: this game shows how easily years of work and hope can just go “pop” when the big players decide you need to be sat on.
In Cornithaca County; the corporations, institutions, and politicians are so tight together; there’s no room left for the people.
A corporate plan for a large facility, powered by fossil fuel, was recently pushed through vocal public opposition with only a “Thanks for keeping us on our toes” response from politicians.
How dismissive is that?
