WASHINGTON, DC, November 3, 2008 (ENS)

The Bush administration finalized a rule Friday that allows more than 15,000 factory farms across the country to avoid certain requirements of the Clean Water Act if they claim they do not discharge animal wastes into lakes, rivers and streams.

Why would we expect any of them to “claim” they are doing anything wrong. This is akin to admitting guilt, which has costs. It’s simply not going to happen. This essentially gives factory farms free reign to continue torturing animals and polluting the local environment with no reprecussions.

Despite the fact that A 2006 United Nations report found that the meat industry produces more greenhouse gases than all the SUVs, cars, trucks, planes, and ships in the world combined.

This is also despite the fact that the EPA has declared that concentrated animal feeding operations are one of the chief causes of water pollution in the United States.

Here are the Facts about Pollution from Livestock Farms from the Natural Resources Defense Council.

I know I’ve listed this statistic before, but it is now 10 years old. BBC just published this updated study and, as you may have guessed, it seems the situation has worsened.

The Red List of Threatened Species says populations of more than half of mammalian species are falling, with Asian primates particularly at risk.

The biggest threat to mammals is loss of habitat, including deforestation.

Loss of habitat is of course due to human activity. Drilling, minning, deforesting, agriculture, livestock, vaccuming the oceans - building subdivisions, parking lots, stripmalls, golf courses, airports, immigration walls…..and so on.

This may be an under-estimate, the authors caution, as there is not enough data to make an assessment in more than 800 cases. The true figure could be nearer to one- third.

“Within our lifetime, hundreds of species could be lost as a result of our own actions, a frightening sign of what is happening to the ecosystems where they live,” said Julia Marton-Lefevre, director-general of the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) which publishes the Red List.

This is an interesting map. I wish we could see different versions of it through the last 500 years though. Even the differences within the last 200 years, 100 years, would be shocking in and of itself.

I took the urban trail to the fair on Saturday. It was a super chill ride right after a great storm. I wondered around by myself, ran into a lot of friends, and ate cinnamon almonds. Throughout the afternoon I saw people juggling fire, eating, parading animals around in a barn, dancing, doing magic, playing music, eating, scamming, engaged in political conversations, drinking, singing, complaining, selling, smiling, hoola-hooping, laughing, and did I mention eating?

One of many “register to vote here while we hock our candidate” booths had one of those giant sketch pads—ala pictionary or the less cool, ‘win, lose, or draw’—listing popular voting issues. Folks were to check the issues that are most important to them.

Here was the top three:
1. Ending the war
2. Protecting the environment
3. Sustainable energy

Flagstaff, I love you. Even while I was standing there, someone was adding a category, “protection of civil liberties.” I walked up and checked “protecting the environment,” while a woman next to me commented, “I wonder why the economy isn’t getting more checks. Every time you turn on the TV, everyone seems to be talking about the economy.” I kinda shrugged and walked away.

I wish I had told her that a) local sustainable energy and ending the war would help the economy and b) that if we don’t protect the environment, none of the things on the list really matter.

Then, I visited the National Parks Service tent. I scored a bumper sticker intended for use on boats. “Danger: Carbon Monoxide Poisoning.” I thought it would be funny to put it on my car. I also got a few temporary tattoos of the endangered humpback chub, courtesy of Glen Canyon Natural Resource Association…or, ironically, the Canyon’s NRA. Already knowing the answer, I asked a rep from the Park’s Service, “what is the largest threat to the humpback chub?”

She said, “apart from complicated issues involving the temperature of the sandbars, the biggest threat is Glen Canyon Dam.” I couldn’t believe how open and honest she was with me. I don’t know, I guess I thought she’d throw some scientific jargon at me or blame it all on invasive mussels or something. I didn’t have to tell her that it seemed like a pretty easy problem/solution scenario. She knows it is. So I asked the only question I could possibly ask. “So when is the dam coming down?”

I guess it’s easier to print up temporary tattoos.

Then I watched the bears and the bees play at the Variety Stage… and I hoola-hooped. I mean, what else was I going to do, right?

Here are some dam resources (ha!).
http://www.nps.gov/glca/faqs.htm
http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?id=news-bytes-of-the-weekflo
http://www.nps.gov/glca/
http://pubs.usgs.gov/of/2008/1153/

Here is an excerpt from the US Geological Survey report on what can be done to save the Humpback Chub (the last in the list of links above).

Given existing volumetric constraints and the current state of knowledge, the most readily available tool to stabilize the presence and persistence of nearshore habitats and, thus, enhanced warming in those environments during the summer months, is steady flows from Glen Canyon Dam.

Calling a man-made dam, “existing volumetric constraints” sort of makes it sound like the dam is a natural and permanent structure. So the real question here isn’t, how do we save the humpback chub? Rather it is, how can we prolong the extinction rate of a native fish without addressing the fact that we’ve systematically destroyed it’s habitat? So, as I understand the plan (more on this in the second link above)–the last part of the sentence–their solution to saving the fish is to periodically allow water flow into the river at a higher density, therefore temporarily creating a sandbar where the fish typically thrive.

The bit about “our current state of knowledge” is pretty funny too. Put together and translated, it’s like they’ve figured out a cleaver way to say, “because there is a big dam there for some reason and because, we’ll we’re just not too bright, we’ve got to…”

No. It was an interesting experiment. But it is fostering an environment where invasive species thrive and the native ones are being choked out. It only produces a million kilowatts. If we have to kill off fish and destroy rivers to get energy, we don’t want it. It was a mistake. Tear it down.

Sacramento: The Chinook salmon that swim upstream to spawn in the fall, the most robust run in the Sacramento River, have disappeared. The almost complete collapse of the richest and most dependable source of Chinook salmon south of Alaska left gloomy fisheries experts struggling for reliable explanations — and coming up dry.

Whatever the cause, there was widespread agreement among those attending a five-day meeting of the Pacific Fisheries Management Council here last week that the regional $150 million fishery, which usually opens for the four-month season on May 1, is almost certain to remain closed this year from northern Oregon to the Mexican border. A final decision on salmon fishing in the area is expected next month.

As a result, Chinook, or king salmon, the most prized species of Pacific wild salmon, will be hard to come by until the Alaskan season opens in July. Even then, wild Chinook are likely to be very expensive in markets and restaurants nationwide.

In a time where hundreds of species die out each day, it is stories like this that drive home the importance of a diverse planet.

A dolphin has come to the rescue of two whales which had become stranded on a beach in New Zealand.

Conservation officer Malcolm Smith told the BBC that he and a group of other people had tried in vain for an hour and a half to get the whales to sea.

The pygmy sperm whales had repeatedly beached, and both they and the humans were tired and set to give up, he said.

But then the dolphin appeared, communicated with the whales, and led them to safety.

“I don’t speak whale and I don’t speak dolphin,” Mr Smith told the BBC, “but there was obviously something that went on because the two whales changed their attitude from being quite distressed to following the dolphin quite willingly and directly along the beach and straight out to sea.”

I’ll bet somebody out there can speak to a whale. I don’t think we’re incapable of speaking and listening to nonhuman animals, it’s just that we’ve forgot how.

Here’s a bit of good news.

LOS ANGELES, California, February 4, 2008 (ENS) - A federal court today struck down a waiver issued by the White House that would exempt the U.S. Navy from complying with environmental law during sonar training exercises off southern California.

Sonar kills whales. It causes whales to bleed from their ears and eyes. It is illegal to use sonar in whale habitats, but Bush wanted to exempt the Navy (those using sonar the most) from any restrictions, evoking threats to national security and patriotism.

Frankly, I’d rather live in a world with whales, not one that deliberately and systematically destroys them.

NEW YORK (Reuters) - The U.S. ethanol rush could drain drinking water supplies in parts of the country because corn — a key source of the country’s alternative fuel — requires vast quantities of water for irrigation, the National Research Council reported on Wednesday.

U.S. President George W. Bush has called for production of 35 billion gallons per year of alternative motor fuels including ethanol by 2017, as part of an effort to wean the country from foreign oil. U.S. capacity to make the fuel, believed to emit low levels of greenhouse gases, has spiked about 28 percent this year to nearly 7 billion gallons.

But the use of more corn to make ethanol could drain water supplies like the Ogallala, or High Plains, aquifer, which extends from west Texas up into South Dakota and Wyoming.

It takes roughly 4 gallons of water to produce 1 gallon of ethanol. Keep questioning their solutions.

The October ish of The Noise is out. Or it should be, anyway. I’m not 100% sure my column made it in because I wrote way more than I was supposed to.

UPDATE: I just picked up a Noise today and discovered that my column is not in this month’s edition. I kinda wish someone would have told me that earlier.

For those who live in N. Ariz: There is information in this article about a great painting that is being raffled off by the artist. The money will go to the fine folks at SavetheVerde.org. Just because this wasn’t published formally, doesn’t mean you have to miss out on this raffle.

Without a doubt, monsoon season in northern Arizona is my favorite time of the year. I miss it already. The mornings are clear and sunny; the birds are loud and happy. These mornings are arguably the best time to spend outside, riding a bike, gardening, or just reading a book on your back porch.

Without a doubt, monsoon season in northern Arizona is my favorite time of the year. I miss it already. The mornings are clear and sunny; the birds are loud and happy. These mornings are arguably the best time to spend outside, riding a bike, gardening, or just reading a book on your back porch.Around eleven, huge white clouds gather around the peaks, and slowly begin to consume the sky above the city. As the afternoon approaches, the clear blue fades, giving way to darker and darker shades of gray. The storm clouds in the distance look increasingly ominous as the top of the peaks disappear entirely. As the wind picks up, the air sweetens and drops in temperature.

Without a doubt, monsoon season in northern Arizona is my favorite time of the year. I miss it already. The mornings are clear and sunny; the birds are loud and happy. These mornings are arguably the best time to spend outside, riding a bike, gardening, or just reading a book on your back porch.Around eleven, huge white clouds gather around the peaks, and slowly begin to consume the sky above the city. As the afternoon approaches, the clear blue fades, giving way to darker and darker shades of gray. The storm clouds in the distance look increasingly ominous as the top of the peaks disappear entirely. As the wind picks up, the air sweetens and drops in temperature.The first thunderclaps echo from behind the peaks and around the city, telling bicyclists to take shelter, telling gardeners to put away their tools. If those who like to read outside are anything like me, they go inside, blast Mozart, Beethoven, or Chopin on their turntables, and continue reading next to a window.

One can literally see the rain drawing closer, in blue-gray streaks, illuminated by periodic flashes of lightening. Before Mozart completes his second full cadence, a clap of thunder—the loudest, most startling one yet—immediately sends your dogs under your bed and your gaze back out the window. This is when you remember to unplug your computer and shut your windows. As you run around making the necessary precautions the rain begins to tap dance on your roof. Tap dancing immediately gives way to moshing—not Metallica moshing, but the kind of energy reserved for bands likes Slayer or, dare I say it, Napalm Death.

Someone once told me that the weather in Flagstaff is the extreme version of the same weather everywhere else. When it rains, it pours. When it snows, it’s a blizzard. When it’s windy, you can’t even be outside (I know a bicyclist who was so pissed off at the wind that he threw his bike across three lanes of traffic…I think of him and laugh every time I’m fighting the wind to get up a hill). But when it’s beautiful outside, it is more beautiful than most places I’ve ever been.

When the rain stops, you hear the sirens…because for some reason when it rains in Flagstaff people lose all ability to operate their vehicles. But after the sirens, as trees and gutters on buildings sift the last few drops of water down to the soil below, there is a wonderful period of silence—as people slowly creep out of their houses, as dogs slink out from beneath beds, and earthworms find their way back into the ground. The sun reappears, filtering through the dissipating clouds, and the air smells fresher and cleaner than any Irish Spring soap commercial could possibly depict.

The months leading up to the first monsoon rains are the hottest, driest months out of the year. The pine trees begin to lose their color, the underbrush browns, forest fires threaten every corner of the southwest, and weeks can go by without seeing a cloud in the sky. Then, one day, you notice clouds. Every day there are more and more of them until one day it finally rains and everyone in town is in a great mood. Slowly the novelty wears off but the rain doesn’t stop for a month.

Instead of the blessing from which we originally regard the rain, many people see it as a nuisance, an inconvenience that won’t let us play out side during the afternoon. While most people I know do love the rain, it’s as if others slip into this Nick Drake-laden depression and blame it all on the rain that “just won’t stop.”

Everyone loves the first couple of storms but it seems like many, especially incoming NAU students, grow tired of the rain very quickly. I, on the other hand, have learned never to complain when it rains in Arizona. I have never lived anywhere where precipitation matters so obviously than northern Arizona.

After just a few weeks of rain, this whole area explodes with green; skunk, elk, deer, raccoon, fox, and many others rapidly populate the area. Neighborhood gardens begin to flourish, washes that are dry most of the year now flow with abundance. Surely, if we lived in the real world, if we relied on the land for our food, our water, and our shelter, we would welcome the rains. In reality, rain in the desert means more of everything that is necessary for our lives.

Instead we have created a world where we can function without owing our lives to the rain. Rather, we owe our lives to our jobs, to our economic systems. We get our water from the tap, our food from the grocery store. In short we’re privileged enough to feel inconvenienced by the rains. That skunk, elk, deer, raccoon, fox and others run wildly around this area during monsoon season—like hipsters thrown free Modest Mouse tickets—while the rest of us groan, further illustrates this privilege.

Of the three necessities obtained through a healthy landbase—food, water, and shelter—our relationship with water might be the last one of these meaningful relationships to be soured by civilization. Our relationship with food has long been lost through the vast distances that food travels, a complete lack of knowledge about where our food comes from, and our willingness to consume food that has been poisoned. As for our homes, they more obviously reflect the socio-economic backgrounds of those who occupy them rather than the land from which they are constructed. More recently, our relationship with water has become just as disconnected.

It wasn’t too long ago that we could drink the water that naturally flowed around us in streams, creeks, and rivers without having to worry about getting sick. I have vivid memories of drinking from a stream in northern New Mexico with my Nana when I was a child. A recent U.S. Geological Survey concluded that every single stream in the continental United States contains some level of carcinogens. When I was a kid, the only thing that crossed either of our minds while drinking water from a stream was the possibility of consuming beaver piss. Today we would obviously have much more to worry about.

Cities spend millions on cleansing efforts, yet today we are told not even to drink the water that comes out of our backyard hoses (and who doesn’t love cold hose water on a hot day?) or from the tap. Instead we are told to purchase water bottled in plastic.

Even after Pepsi announced that its bottled water, Aquafina, actually comes straight from a public water source—that’s right, it’s just tap water—we would still rather buy water bottled in plastic rather than address the toxification of our total environment. How did all this happen? When did we become so disconnected with such a basic necessity of life?

We are told that there is a water shortage. To that I say, bullshit. There is just as much water as there has always been. Sure, the locations of water change along with the climate, and the amount of people drinking the water is rising, but the water itself isn’t disappearing. To frame the issue of water shortage in this way detracts from the real issue of irresponsible water usage.

When I mentioned my frustration on this issue to Ellen Ryan, Flagstaff’s Water Conservation Manager, she agreed, though reiterated the very real problem of our water sources in terms of facing drought conditions. That we are, indeed, facing a drought further accentuates the importance of confronting irresponsible water usage.

Despite all the warnings about droughts and water scarcity, the vast majority of us who occupy the lands of the American southwest do not confront dehydration on a daily basis (I do not include “everybody” in this because I don’t want to minimize the very real threats faced by indigenous peoples in Northern Arizona, who are constantly defending access to their own water supplies and aquifers). According to the World Bank 80 countries now have water shortages that threaten health and economies while 40 percent of the world—more than 2 billion people—have no access to clean water.

Rapid population growth is certainly an issue that can’t be ignored, as people will continue to over-populate areas where water is increasingly scarce. As population grows, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that industrial, agricultural, and individual water demands will escalate. If our current wars are fought over oil, the wars of the future—assuming we reach a future—will surely be waged over access to adequate quantities of drinkable water.

Population, however, is a secondary problem next to the issue of consumption. While our population has risen, water consumption has increased at a much faster pace. This reflects water usage alongside rising standards of living and the unsustainable nature of modern agriculture—since 1900, water use for agriculture has increased by more than 700%—and industry. It is far too easy to point the finger at population rather than to question our consumption habits within an unsustainable civilization.

Though stricter mandates and higher prices for water will surely be the reality in the near future, meaningful water conservation will require a shift in mindset. While this shift can be reflected in the way individuals regard their own consumption of water, citizens should stand up and pressure the larger institutions that consume more water than individuals ever could. When I asked Ms. Ryan who the biggest water consumer in Flagstaff is, she had the answer for me immediately. “NAU,” she said, “is the main water user in this area.” Of course, NAU, in comparison to Flagstaff, is its own little city, so the fact that they use the most water should come as no surprise. Still, keep that in mind the next time their marketing department talks about all the exciting “green” changes they’re making.

Also, just because a particular stretch of lawn utilizes reclaimed water doesn’t necessarily make it a responsible choice. I can think of many places—in the city, in residential areas, and at the university—where water is used to maintain lawns—lawns that exist for no reason beyond aesthetic appeal. I’ve actually heard that grass is our country’s biggest crop. And I know I’m not the only one who has cruised past a field of grass or a residential lawn during a thunderstorm and witnessed the sprinklers spitting water as it rains. Reclaimed water or not, this is irresponsible.

Ms. Ryan told me about something called a “rain sensor” that anyone could purchase that senses when it rains and shuts the sprinkler off automatically. She also told me about rain-barrels one can purchase that are meant to collect roof water when it rains. This water can be used to water gardens and fill kiddie pools, among many other uses.

For those considering ripping out their lawns in favor of something more hydro-responsible, Ms. Ryan also suggested “xeriscape” for their yards, which utilizes “low water use plants and natives” (there is a reason why sunflowers grow better than your tomatoes!). A shift in mindset, however, whereby the true value of water in the desert is fully realized and savored will require more than simply acting on a few tips, as vital as they are.

Indeed today it is hard to recognize the value inherent in regular access to clean water in the desert. Regarding water in the desert, Edward Abbey said, in Beyond the Wall, “…nowhere is water so beautiful as in the desert, for nowhere is it so scarce. By definition, water, like a human being or a tree or a bird or a song, gains value by rarity, singularity, isolation…In the desert each drop is precious.” This quote emphasizes both the need to recognize and appreciate the value of water in the desert, and calls for us to rekindle our relationship to it. It also helps to explain why I paid so much for that Dead Kennedys 7-inch that I never listen to.

Like a fresh lemon to a sailor lost at sea, we need to recognize the true value of our access to water in the desert and treat it accordingly. In truth, some things simply cannot be valued in monetary amounts. We’ve forgotten why we originally inhabited the areas of Arizona that we did. There is a reason why, for example, Cottonwood, Clarkdale, Jerome, and Prescott exist where they do. The answer: the Verde River. It’s time we start re-identifying with rivers like the Verde that brought us here in the first place, and will sustain us in the future. But first we have to stop killing it.

At 7,000 feet, the land under and around Flagstaff has a crucial role to play regarding the health of the land in the valleys below. The Verde is one of the most important rivers in this area. It begins in tributaries that form among aspen, evergreens, and pine. As it travels down in elevation, it collects water from some of the most dramatic landscapes in the world; Oak Creek Canyon, Fossil Creek, West Clear Creek, The East Verde, and Beaver Creek have all contributed to the Verde for over 60 million years. The rivers deposit needed water and minerals throughout Arizona. During it’s 170-mile journey south, the heat and dry air result in evaporation, which collects in clouds where it, again, rains in the high country. In this way, the network of rivers, streams, and creeks of northern Arizona can rightfully be thought of as a vital circulatory system to the entire region. To many animals, it is more accurately an oasis, the life-blood of the entire region.

The Verde River is one of “America’s 10 most endangered” rivers. It is currently being threatened by thirsty developments going up in Prescott and Prescott Valley that, if allowed, will strangle the river out of nearly 9,000 acre-feet of water per year. A U.S. Geological Survey estimated that robbing this much water would dry up the initial 24 miles of The Verde, thus dramatically affecting the rest of this mighty river.

I recently talked to Ron Harvey, a teacher, artist, and local conservationalist from Prescott who runs the “Save the Verde” myspace page (myspace.com/theverderiver) and does a lot of work with the fine folks at savetheverde.org. I asked him what he thought the biggest threat to The Verde is.

“Us,” he said, “plain and simple. We use too much water, and don’t put it back where we found it. Right now, we have overdrawn our account, but aren’t paying the penalty, and the bank is about to come knocking.”

The Verde, of course, is not the only river being murdered in Arizona. In this state, right now anyway, we don’t pay much for water, but that doesn’t mean it flows through our faucets without cost. Once upon a time, the mighty Colorado River fed into the Pacific Ocean; hell, not too long ago, this river reached the Mexican border.

Reiterating my thoughts (and Ed Abbey’s) regarding the true value of The Verde and the importance of it to the entire region, Mr. Harvey went on. “It is also a truly rare jewel: a river in the desert. We run the risk of killing what we moved here for in the first place, and before many of us even knew it was there.”

This made me think of Flagstaff’s water sources as well. It always surprises me when people don’t know where our own water comes from. As long as we turn on the faucet and clean water comes out, I suppose to many the fact that much of it comes from Lake Mary is unimportant. Still, if we begin to identify with the water sources that allow us to live here, we might learn to defend them.

The more it rains during monsoon season, the healthier the landbase is. The more it snows during the winter, the more water we have to drink. What a novel idea! Our water doesn’t come from the city; it doesn’t come from the water company. Our water comes from the land, melting from snow that trickles down, collecting in streams, flowing into local lakes, seeping into the ground, where it is siphoned or pumped, filtered and funneled into our drinking glasses. If these waterways are not worth defending, I don’t know what is.

Ron Harvey is raffling off this beautiful painting called, Sunrise on the Lower Verde, in the hopes that the money made will help save this vital river. Tickets are only $5 and will be on sale until October 31st. The painting is acrylic on canvas, and it measures 24×18.”

Go to his myspace page for more information or, drop by The Frame and I Art Gallery on 229 W Gurley in downtown Prescott. If you don’t live in Prescott but would like to purchase a ticket, contact Joanne at (928) 772-8204 and she’ll hook you up.

The Yangtze River dolphin, often called the baiji, was known to be low in numbers, and the expedition had feared that they might find only a few dozen individuals. To find none at all was heartbreaking. A creature that had been swimming the waters of the Yangtze for at least 20 million years had come to the end of the line. Sure, there might be one or two individuals left that the researchers had missed, but they won’t be enough to keep the species alive. As 2006 drew to a close, the baiji was declared functionally extinct, and mankind had achieved a new first. We’d killed our first dolphin.

Human beings are currently causing the greatest mass extinction of species since the extinction of the dinosaurs 65 million years ago. By 2030, a quarter of the Earth’s mammals will be gone forever.

While I’ve been in Taos, I’ve purposely avoided reading much news…other than the Santa Fe paper on my grandparents breakfast table…they’ve got a great comics page. Anyway…

Upon returning to Flag and opening my computer, I discovered that the media finally opened their eyes to the issue of water bottled in plastic. As it turns out, the water from Pepsi’s Aquafina and Coke’s Dasani companies are actually bottled straight from the tap. That means that the water you pay $1.50 for is no better than what comes out of your fauset or backyard hose (I actually love hose water….but I digress).

In fact 25 percent or more of all water bottled in plastic comes straight from the tap.

Remember when bottled water first hit the market? Only bourgeois douche bags bought the stuff, now American’s have a $16 billion-a-year bottled-water habit. In fact,

You can get at least 450 gallons of L.A. tap water for the $1.35 you’d pay for 20 ounces of Aquafina. Turn that around, and 20 ounces of L.A. tap water costs about one-twentieth of a cent.

Would you pay $5 for a gallon of gas in a pretty container if you could get a plain-wrap gallon for half a penny? When it comes to water, that’s pretty much what we do.

The bottled water industry has done an amazing job of convincing the public, without actually saying it, that they’re water is better, purer, and healthier. This is achieved in many ways, but the most powerful, I think, is the use of nature imagery, whereby consumers (oops, I mean people) are supposed to believe the water came straight out of some untouched natural spring, or a glacier…or something. The fact that every single river and stream in the United States contains some amount of carcinogens makes this delusion even more ridiculous.

It’s not healthier. In fact, many studies reveal that it’s much worse than tap water.

the National Resources Defense Council tested bottled water and found a third of it contaminated with bacteria, synthetic chemicals and arsenic. The EPA’s regulations on tap water are stronger than the FDA’s regulations on bottled water.

Most people I know have one sturdy plastic bottle that they fill and refill wherever they go. There is nothing better about buying tap water bottled in plastic except for convenience. Give me Convenience or Give Me Death!