Millennial Entitlement

This is a new thing, and it started with the onset of the public school year.  Somehow children being contained in public buildings being managed by slave-like labor signaled it was okay to start them machines a rolling again.  Helicopters it seems rotates at a frequency causing a low frequency sound wave in the range of what is enveloping me right now.  I am not or never have been a terrorist.  I, like many civil rights leaders, champion honesty, integrity, and most of all opportunity.  I don't like feeling like a slave.  I don't think it is fair that a low frequency sound wave deserves to inhabit my home.  Fully I am aware of the plethora of new toys at Fort Bragg, including my own personal Learjet that picks me up and drops me off on a daily basis in Vanstory.  What other reason could there be that my T-tailed, American-flagged, cab appears magically a few moments after I go out in the yard?  It is very attentive.  I am not a terrorist and never have been.  While I do not view America as what Charlie Rose continually calls, "The Superpower of the World," I would see no reason to write manifestos about a coup de tat, unless it became overwhelmingly necessary.  We are reaching that point in America.  Never would I have surmised that the decade of my fifties would prove to be the most challenging of my life.  I thought life began at fifty.  I will be lucky to make it.  My health is in such dire challenge, often I do not see a resolution.  Not always is it physical health.  When a community revolves around an entity that trains men and women for war, what are the consequences?  Isn't it probable that the idea of peace may become lost?  Lost in the refuse of war.  Ho hum.  We in Fayetteville live in the refuse of war and see very little positive effects.  There are the flag wavers.  There are those who do not know why they are fighting for America, what our cause is, who the enemy is, or what our government is trying to accomplish.  Simply they choose to fight for the pride of fighting.  I acknowledge that, although I do not agree with it.  I do not agree that rapidly I see the United States Military being positioned as an entity that no longer will support the domestic national defense of America.  I know we don't want that, a ground war on our soil.  It will come to that, and I can't see the U.S. military performing that task.  It is the way it is right now.  There is no force available and ready to serve Americans at home.  We use the National Guard, and they kill college protestors.  Our police force has become racially biased.  There are few jobs.  On top of all of this Americans no longer feel good.  What few industries remain have gobbled up our environment with nary a blink.  "The Rise of the Machines."  It is real, and it is alarming.  I am not a terrorist, but if I chose to engage myself in IRA-like activity the easiest possible targets are spread like mindless chickens across our land.  It would not take much of a plan to bring America to her knees in a few days.  I just wonder who is thinking about it?  It won't be from jarheaded, towel-headed, sandniggers.  (of course I am taking artistic license using the word "sandnigger.")  It is not a part of my vocabulary.  After being verbally harassed this afternoon by a school boy at VanStory Elementary School, it made me think.  As I walked peacefully through the woods with my chainsaw to cut fallen trees from Hurricane Matthew, to ensure the safety of local neighborhood children, a playing boy saw fit verbally to shout taunts at me from the edge of the woods.  "Hey boy! Hey chainsaw boy with the white shirt.  Come here!"  This continued, and while I tried to study this dangerous mass of fallen trees blocking our tail, I began to feel uncomfortable.  I was being goaded, because I looked like an Appalachian hillbilly doing the only thing my meager mind could muster, run a chainsaw.  Several things went through my mind all of them almost impossible to fathom.  First there was a middle-classed school child shouting taunts at an chainsaw wielding stranger.  If he was suffering from a little too much TV, then wouldn't tomorrow being Halloween suggest that taunting a chainsaw wielding stranger be a bit of a risk?  There was Texas.  then I realized he had no clue what was happening.  Like others in American history to bring attention to himself he decided to bully someone.  Finally I shouted back, "I'm fifty-four years old and old enough to be your father.  You can stop shouting at me anytime."  Then I realized it must be common that in today's world respect and manners are a thing of the past.  I realized that in the scope of AMerican culture, it was my bounden duty to discipline this child.  A father would not allow such behavior, and only because these children were unsupervised was he enticed to show his ass.  When I work in these woods it is a kind of therapy.  The vines and the trees and the thorns do not taunt me.  They challenge me, but I do not feel goaded like a black slave child.  He called me, "Boy!"  I am fifty-four years old, and because I was wearing cut off sweat pants, and tank top, and bandana around my forehead his image of me was something from Deliverance.  I get it.  I remembered that often before I have been verbally harassed by children attending this school.  Each time it is as unfathomable as the previous.  Because I wear a bandana and wield an axe, a useful tool of the forest, against I am discriminated.  So much for living in a middle-class neighborhood.  There is a reason why I miss my childhood home and its surroundings.  The pretense and fabricated entitlement that has become our current generation only will fail, and America will follow if we all ready have not.  

The Sacrifical Lambs of National Defense

Necessarily I am roused from bed and driven to the computer to escape the ill effects of yet another diesel-electric locomotive.  I am guessing it is singing the GEVO DEVO song, an asynchronous, cacophonous assemblage of disturbing electricity and sounds that emanate from an ES44ACH.  ES44ACH is a new acronym for me.  Certainly I have shouted, "Dash 9" loudly enough for the last few years.  I am not a fan of the Dash 9, mainly because it had a propensity to sit idly in the Milan Yard in Fayetteville, North Carolina.  Dash 9 is a pseudonym for C40-9W.  Seeing as we ignorant heathen Americans no longer can pronounce complete words or complete a variety of other tasks of which Gen. X was capable, we must find a pleasing nickname for otherwise deadly paraphenalia.  Tom Schuman, the keyboardist for Spyro Gyra, could write and perform an effective blues, but for it to be accepted by the crowd of belligerant drunkards attending a concert, it must be renamed "Shoe's Bloes."  (or would it be "Shue's Blues?")  I am not keen on nicknames, because nicknames sidestep reality.  A Dash 9 diesel-electric locomotive, while the most powerful freight locomotive ever designed and built, is a menacing and harmful machine to those in its ambient environment.  When I lived in Cowtown, there were homeowner associations which demanded meetings with local railroad executives, because their irresponsible actions harmed neighborhoods.  These same diesel-electric locomotives would side idling on their tracks for hours at a time spewing diesel microdust, heat, and vibration into what formerly were upstanding and equitable properties.  How is it that an upstanding and equitable property say such as VanStory Hills in Fayetteville, North Carolina becomes a graveyard?  It's the same reason that when I attended the Cumberland Country Oratorio concert last night in Holy Trinity Church a loud, disruptive, and undulating hum sound was ensconced in their sanctuary.  I knew what it was, because I have been dealing with this demon since I left Cowtown.  (Cowtown is Columbus, Ohio, and because I am not keen on nicknames I should not use this term.)  Nicknames are an effective license in expository writing, so I am taking this small liberty.  I do not disparage Columbus.  Conversely I have come to believe that this controversial urban mecca is a paradise compared to Fayetteville.  It is where I discovered the source of this demon "hum" sound.  I have a large cardboard box of 35mm photographs of the train activities in Cowtown.  I figured if I could not beat this hum (and I mean tune it out of my ears and body and compose worthy artistic music)  I should study it and further receive some enjoyment.  I did have fun trainspotting all around Columbus.  I found the Norfolk Southern Yard, the CSX-T Yard, and the former ConRail Yard all tucked neatly in between Columbus's interstate highways.  (There are many, and this is why there is slate of suspect drug crimes.)  The intersection of major interstates traveling both north and south and east and west draw such drug traffickers.  After discovering the hum, its source, and then moving away I was disillusioned to find it was everywhere.  In fact as I traveled back to Fayetteville from Columbus, it got stronger.  I pulled up into our driveway in VanStory Hills, stepped out of my Toyota Tercel wagon, and into a standing wave.  It is here most of the time, and it could come from a variety of sources.  To this day I am not sure which, other than to suggest the underground corridors at Fort Bragg house its effects.  General Electric saw privy to construct possibly the first underground hum machine.  Would genius-level engineers know that low frequency alternating current, low frequency drives, and an Insulated Gate Bipolar Transistor could cause such a stir?  The folks of Taos, New Mexico thought so, and over the course of a decade complained about this undulating hum sound until it merited its own website and a governmental inquiry.  They correctly did attribute the source of the sound to an underground conveyor belt at a Moly mine nearby.  (Moly isn't a nickname for Molybdenum, is is a shortened version of the word)  As a writing license I am using it to bring attention to this precious mineral most people don't know about.  Certainly millennials won't know about moly, because they have their heads up their iPhones.  (and other places that don't matter in the scope of American life) The internet has spawned a generation of socially maladmusted, precocious, entitled assholes.  Effectively the millennial generation almost has destroyed America.  We are not out of it yet, and personally I do not think we will emerge.  There is too much personal wealth being held offshore in Grand Cayman or Swiss bank accounts.  This money never will be reinvested in America, because the new nickname for the United States should morph into "The Rise of the Machines."  George Orwell was on the mark, and although it has taken thirty more years to achieve fascism in America, it is here.  When a value judgement must be made over human beings beset with flood catastrophe or diesel hauled rail freight, evidently the machines will win.  They are winning now.  They are winning, because the health of Americans is in jeopardy.  Always it has been, and class-action lawsuits became common as did labor unions standing up for the rights of workers.  With the millennial generation most things that have assured the longevity of man in America have become extinct.  Instead increasingly we live in a fantasy world where the term twenty trillion dollars of national debt doesn't raise an ear.  Neither does cancer caused by electromagnetic radiation, something that has been proven time and time again in government studies.  The first man, in his diligence to balance America's national debt, chose to ignore the caution of the the Federal Communication Commission, and instead chose to auction off dangerous microwave frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum creating our now cumbersome, overwhelming, and dangerous wireless communication industry.  Never have I agreed with it, and I do not possess a cell phone.  I do not agree with placing microwave ovens atop tall towers and placing them all over the country, because any ignorant heathen could understand that global warming is not a fantasy.  Summer temperatures in North America were the hottest on record, and at this very moment in Fayetteville, where Fort Bragg-manned heavy hauling machines creep beneath the surface of the earth, we are enveloped in another record-breaking heat wave caused by diesel-electric locomotives such as the ES44ACH.  The primary difference I can deduce between a Dash 9 and this new-to-my-knowledge machine, is that the C40-9W used direct current traction motors.  Initially railroads like Norfolk/Southern chose not to buy locomotives equipped with AC traction motors.  Was it because Erskine Bowles and his fellow board members may have known that rotating electromagnetic fields traveling around our landscape was not a good idea?  Certainly the infrasound produced by a Dash 9 is not, but they were immune from the effects of processing large amounts of electrical power, cramming it into a  conductors box, and seeping it into traction motors for low speed locomotive operation.  (this is what AC traction accomplishes)  While a throbbing diesel prime mover necessarily will produce an invasive infrasonic wave that will produce all of the same effects Vladimir Gavreau studied when experimenting with forms of "non-lethal" weapons, a DC equipped diesel-electric locomotive would NOT produce low frequency alternating current.  Secondly it would not produce low frequency alternating current that escapes into our environment causing a host of problems that effect every day life.  I have studied this technology enough to understand that low frequency electricity and a rotating electromagnetic field of themselves do not produce a low frequency electromagnetic wave.  A transmitted or oscillator is needed for that.  To transmit that through the air will take an antenna of massive length, say a hundred and fifty miles possibly located in the midwest states of Illinois and Indiana.  We must ask the Ash Carter, the CEO of the pentagon or the Joint Chiefs of Staff, or the Commander of the Navy's submarines for details.  Currently we use this technology to communicate with sub's far far away and near Vladimir Putin.  With the Base Realignment Commissions work moving America's Ground Forces Command to Fayetteville, with it came a multitude of federal spending building interstate highways, underground compounds, and a more effective and powerful logistical machines that supplies the Middle East with taxpayer purchased munitions.  With all of the comings and goings of train traffic in Fayetteville, one is staying constant.  I used to perceive it floating in a cruise vessel in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.  I was and still am in intimate contact with the butt-munching engineers responsible for moving that lever. 

A Toxic Waste Dump

I am taking a risk.  When I complain about pollution I am punished with more pollution. 
My ears are ringing from infrasound.  With the effects of Hurricane Mathew, a powerful storm that wreaked havoc on many southeastern North Carolina cities, the source of a disturbance remained untouched.  CSX-T tracks were washed out in many places, and R.J. Corman was brought in to service the erosion and restore functionality.  The Vander
Line was affected serving DAK Americas as was the CSX-T mainline in downtown Fayetteville.  Amtrack suspended all activity through Fayetteville, and yet this disturbance continued unabated.  Certainly there was flooding north of Pope Field on the Lower Little River which feeds the Cape Fear.  This disturbance continued.  Whence does it come?  Is it the railyard at DAK Americas?  Is there an Aberdeen and Rockfish or Norfolk Southern locomotive there that never sleeps?  Is it Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point south of Wilmington?  Is it CSX-T’s mammoth transfer yard in Hamlet?  This low frequency sound wave commenced approximately three weeks ago, and it never has stopped.  The entire country is suffering.  Usually when I complain via this blog some attention is paid to my concerns.  Then this ensued.  After a sedentary summer freight rail traffic roared to life.  Do the owners of the Astros know that their proposed baseball stadium is adjacent to the CSX-T mainlines?  It is a double track.  Do the owners of the Astros know that their proposed baseball stadium is adjacent to the STRACNET line servicing Fort Drag?  Or is it Fort Hag?  It is an interesting business proposal pitting what has become a corporate monopoly industry against a recreational sport industry.  It could be considered a power move.  The city of Fayetteville or the White House cannot regulate the now out-of-control rail industry, because they are intertwined with the Department of Defense.  The Department of Defense is out of control spinning yarns, creating unrest, and funding lucrative defense contractors.  That is the Carolinas.  National Defense.  Our coastline has transformed itself from a prime tourist destination to a sprawling military industrial complex.  We are rail lines connecting military installations, and that is not inspiring the economy for American citizens.  It is lining the pockets of the elite wealthy.  We are a third world country.  Fayetteville was privy to receive millions of dollars for the I-295 inner loop.  This loop, while it maintains a sense of progress for the community, simply is an access road for Fort Bag.  Or is it Fag?  Trucks carrying munitions can exit I-95 and drive directly to their access point on post with no interruption.  Bragg Boulevard has been closed so compounds on either side of highway 24 can be integrated.  It’s logistics on post, and it is smart logistics.  Citizens of Fayetteville need to understand what Fort Bragg has become.  It is the largest military compound in the United States.  Munitions are brought in on trucks and loaded underground onto trains which haul them to a sorting yard in Leland and then down to Ocean Military Terminal Sunny Point.  My question is, “Is the disturbance that is bombarding Fayetteville and the country coming from underground at Fort Hag?”  On the surface the United States Army owns some GenSet locomotives.  They also own heavy haul locomotives worth millions of dollars.  Where best is it to hide the country’s munitions and the expensive locomotives  that haul them?  Is it underground at Fort Bag?   Do we really need “The View” running the country?