“Cornithaca County” is a fictitious name for a real future. The first part of this book will contain stories, games, jokes, and activities that dissect the actions and intent of elitist policy making in the county. The second part will document actual incidents and issues that raise questions about the conduct of those who have been entrusted with the welfare of the public at large. At the end of the book, I will present a powerful circumstantial case — and a chilling denouement.
My bio should to start here:
“Early Sunday morning, June 4, 2017, I was sicker than I had ever been before. Too sick to even bend over, as I vomited all over the toilet, myself, and the bathroom floor — and I didn’t even care.”
This was the aftermath of being engulfed in a cloud of Roundup from a giant agricultural sprayer while I was mowing my lawn the previous afternoon.
The incident motivated me to write “You Know You Live near a Factory Farm When Your Kids Go Fishing with a Pool Skimmer” — a picture book with large print and cautionary captions. “Family Farm Fun” is the second book in the Factory Farm series.
At this same time I grew increasingly aware of the treatment that the rural community in the town was receiving, and began my blog on elitist policy making: Rural Tompkins County — The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Credentials.
As for right now, what should I do next?
I think I’ll go to my favorite pub. Maybe there’s someone there who hasn’t heard my story.
My brother says, “Good luck with that!”
The fight to retain human dignity and worth is being lost every time someone sighs because corruption, greed, and deceit will always be with us, and checks their phone for tonight’s party. It’s a battle where it seems that every time you type in a letter, they hit the “backspace” button, and it’s a burden you can’t push off on somebody else. • If you end up in a fast moving river; you can stand against the current, struggle to move against the current, or just relax and end up wherever the current takes you — but if the same person who brought you there won’t show you the map . . .