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EarthSourceMedia Reports for September 18th, 2009

~Forcing the Task Force~

Having arrived a day early, I found myself first staring at a blazing San Francisco sunset and then awakening the next morning to a multitude of hungry fisherman hauling poor shark after shark out of the bay and slamming them unceremoniously to the asphalt pavement that was Pier 28. I wrestled with the notion of running over and tossing them back into the life-giving waters, but knew it was no use. I turned away, feeling like a friend was dying in the street- and I guess he was.

In Deep Water

Most people will tell you they know the oceans are in deep water. Some will say we need more studies. Of course, the people who say more studies are usually the people who actually do those studies for a living and even when they do them, they always conclude by saying, “The results of our study show ‘more studies needed’!”

As he fends off hecklers and nuts with automatic weapons who stand outside his speeches, President Obama has finally gotten around to creating and mobilizing his ‘Inter-Agency Ocean Policy Task Force’, whose job it is to listen to the scientists, experts and public, and use that input to formulate an all-encompassing plan to do no less than save the ocean.

The first meeting of the IOPTF was held in San Francisco yesterday at the Hyatt Embarcadero, same place the California Coastal Commission voted to deny San Diego another sewage ‘waiver’ last month, and yes, I was there. Waivers of the Federal Clean Water Act, like the one San Diego uses to dump filthy human sewage into the ocean, are part of a pattern of reckless behavior that has led to oceans in crisis.

And of course, the corruption runs deep too; instead of cleaning up the sewage, San Diego Mayor Jerry Sanders has re-submitted another waiver application, and the Coastal Commission will hear it -yet again- on October 7th, at Carlsbad California City Council chambers. And yes, I will again be there! But surely, I digress…

Historic Meeting

Zipping up and down the State of California in our ‘Scacciabong’ (RV), we made sure to attend this historic meeting as well as the Ocean Protection Council meeting held just prior. Inside, the task force listened as elected officials spoke of ocean protection, scientists and biostitutes spoke of new things to study, and environmentalists from far-flung places detailed their struggles. But many of the standing-room only crowd were ordinary citizens, some young, some old, but none of them were really buying into what amounted to a bill of goods being sold there at the Embarcadero Hyatt.

Like the taxis waiting along the curb out front of the palacial diggs, somewhere out in the shadows, toxic polluters, long liners, shark finners, dolphin killers, Navy sonar whale-ear blasters, they were all lined up out there too, waiting for the lip service to be over. Waiting for the media lights to point back at the latest abduction, school murder or winner of American Idol, so they could resume their predation on our green and yet very blue planet and ocean.

Real Hope

The real hope, I knew was outside the building, where a mob-scene of colorful aquatic costumes swam the streets of San Francisco, now leaping clear of the waves, now duck-diving ‘neath a passing MUNI Bus or Trolly. Winding my camera and nursing a coffee, I jogged out into the city air, where hope wore the costume of a Sockeye Salmon and tomorrow held a surfboard emblazoned with the words: HEALTHY OCEAN=HEALTHY SURFERS. I gathered 30 or so of the different species into a school and snapped the above photo, one that I knew would reflect the desperate mood of a meloncholy ocean, gasping for breath.

And of all the messages given and taken from the first listening-session of President Obama’s Inter Agency Ocean Policy Task Force, perhaps the most simple and straight forward was the one I gave on the 5:00 evening news, to KTVU Health and Science Editor John Fowler: “What’s the message of all this?”, he queried, to which I replied, “That the ocean is not a cheap dumping ground for the detritus of society. That it should no longer be viewed as a resource, but as a source”.

Of course, none of those in charge would agree, and there lies our dilema- the only way any of them will do anything is with the permission of those who suck the life out of our ocean like dark eyed vampires on the pale throat of a victorian princess. But I knew something they all didn’t, and as we drove the many miles back home to California’s rugged if over-fished Central Coast: all the excuses and compromise and politicking in the world simply don’t matter to a dying Earth. And those warriors, those vikings, those soldiers, those youthful, resourceful, ever-hopeful ocean activists out there in their colorful protest costumes, they aren’t here to buy a bridge. They’re here to build one to the future.

our founder

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 the dogs of hate

EarthSourceMedia reports for July 7th, 2009

~Dogs of Hate~

‘Ain’t they great

the Dogs of Hate

hatin’ the left

shovin’ to the right

the white glove of love

lays in state tonight…

Hey kids,

Joey Racano here for EarthSourceMedia and yes, it’s been a while. I’ve been very busy. But not so busy that I haven’t been watching what’s going on in this crazy world of yours. Right, YOURS. Us older folks will be dead and we’re leaving you a dying and poisoned world. And so it’s important that anyone who really wants to help you, tells it like it is- it’s YOUR WORLD.

Michael Jackson knew that.

Michael Jackson is being memorialized this morning at Staple Center in Los Angeles, and in his death, he’s doing what he never could in life; he’s starting a revolution. Remember that song, ‘Wanna be Starting Somethin’? Well this is it. This is it- which, by the way, was the name of his glorious comeback tour that was never to be, because he died the morning after his last rehearsal. And listen to the words of his last tunes- ‘They Don’t Really Care About Us’. He knew it. You know it and I know it. The Dogs of Hate will send your ass to war, but they don’t care about you at all. They just want you to grovel and obey until they suffocate under the weight of their ill-begotten dollars and you suffocate from poisoned air.

Michael had the same message Jimi Hendrix had on the ‘Band of Gypsys’ album: A message of Love. And I think this is a great time to invoke the star player of the right wing- Jesus. Jesus showed everyone what happens when you have the audacity of living a life steeped in L-O-V-E. They fucking kill you. And America is the king of hate. I mean, how many countries are we bombing right now, 15 or 16? Just take a look at that ignorant congressman from Long Island New York (where I grew up!). He’s talkin’ hate about the greatest lover the world ever knew- Michael Jackson.

And usually, more often than not, people who talk shit about child molestation or stuff like that (which no way was Michael about in any way shape or form) it’s always people like the good congressman from NY who are molesting kids in the background. Just look at all the priests and such. Scum of the earth for the most part. Them and their disgusting perverted phony control-oriented religions. They should all swallow a razor blade IMHO.

Michael Jackson was the worlds biggest childrens advocate, and the bad guys turned it around on us and dragged this gentle man through the mud- and he was found not guilty on all 14 counts I might add.

These are all the same guys who want you to think there is something happening in the Iranian election that wasn’t done in our own country an order of magnitude larger and ‘worser’. Next time someone tells you Iran stole their election, just say, “Fuck you, you idiot- what happened in America in 2000 when a right wing judge decided Bush should be the President? And here we are 3 trillion dollars and a million innocent lives later, without a shred of a constitution or bill of rights and the appointees the shithead left behind on the supreme court are dragging us further and further to the right, voting against the Earth, Whales, Oceans, forests and wetlands, leaving you kids to die in the streets without trauma centers as they spend all the money- and I do mean ALL the money- on war!

The fact that the Staple Center won’t be showing the ceremony on it’s huge outdoor screen tells it all. They are afraid of us, baby, and well they should be. Because the time is right for revolution.

In the immortal words of John F. Kennedy, “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible, make violent revolution inevitable”.

On a personal note:

Michael, thank you for all your love, and for caring about the voiceless creatures of the earth, and all as you were under constant attack, as we lovers always are from the Dogs of Hate.

-always your fan,

joey racano 

 

our founder

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EarthSourceMedia Reports for April 28th, 2009

~The Pig Flew~

Instantly, it all came flooding back- the terrible cacaphony of jumbo jet impacts, the horrible maelstrom that has come simply to be called, 9-11. It was all done with the sweeping wings of a giant metal bird, the rapacious roar of jet engines gone awry, and delivered to the city of New York this morning, April 27th, 2009. With no warning, no fanfare; as a thief in the night having choosen instead to go the daylight route of the professional burgler. Maximum impact on the nerves of those still suffering traumatic stress syndrome from a maximum impact. A swift suicide flyby by a massive jetliner, right at the Statue of Liberty, with fighter jets in toe, no less…

All for a mere photo opportunity? Given the o.k. by the United States Government? Oh, most certainly- and Peter Pan is real, as well. Or perhaps this was an off season visit by Saint Nick himself, both sleigh and an elf! And there’s that long-for-sale bridge just across the river in Brooklyn. And perhaps -just perhaps, the good if shaken people of New York City are still yet willing to make the gullable purchase.

Brooklyn, NY:

TONITE said the soiled Fulton Street marquis, looming above a Brooklyn corner where tommorows men and todays youth honed their skills at a game called craps. THE CHILLI CON CARNE RAP BAND- ONE NIGHT ONLY. Inside, the smoke rose from the dinner table section and an olive-skinned man spat his poetry through the open wound of a microphone: 

(driving bass/hypnotic tribal drum)

“Is it really a pandemic? Brother, that’s academic.

Walls around our country, the agents at our borders-Tell me, brains of shizzle, does torture follow orders?

An Illuminati in a mazzeratti? A manican in the Vatican!

‘Zat plane screaming above bringing a message of love, or is it mo’ strategy from the Master ‘C’, the ex VP, AKA Dick Cheney?

Did you wonder as you dove for cover, was this Rove with another trove from his treasure of twisted pleasure, designed to freak the mind of the kind, tweak the meek and the weak ’till they hunch the hell over with a sorry physique…”

In the back row, two kids talk over the din, one asking the other, “What’s he talkin’ ’bout?” And the answer came, “Not a thing ta’ concern us, cousin.”  

Manhattan, NY:

“It’s them again! They’re back to avenge Saddam Hussein!!” screamed a wild-eyed New Yorker. He rushed down the flight of stairs, joining the petrified masses pouring into the streets of Mahattan. Children called to their mothers from beneath hordes who trampled all in their path; all 5 boroughs of the ‘big apple’  had became as a Rhode Island nightclub fire.

“Not again!” pleaded a woman fumbling with her rosary, “Not again!”

Crawford, Texas:

“Ah, so you’re termed, what of it? Look at all the apples you shook down yonder! A credit to yer race, I say. Remember, the military will be yours, not his or theirs. Hell, let ‘em have the whitehouse- it’s got more bugs than Mexican tap water. We’ll know every move they make! But the military- our boys in cammo- they’ll never have them. When we said ‘mission accomplished’, it was accomplished by then. And no one can even speak out against us- you saw what happened to Neapalitano when that study came to light saying troops are easy recruits for the Aryans- she was forced to apologize! No more Posse Cumitatus, heck man, we’re sittin’ in the cat bird seat fer sure. And if they ever come for us about torture, we’ll give the melting pot a surprise they’ll never forget- a big scary jumbo jet circling around an even bigger version of my middle finger!”

Burbank, California (5 months later):

“No, FOX TV will most certainly not carry Mr. Obama’s speech, no sir! What does he think I’m running here, a free ride for every Tom Dick and Harry who would lead the free world? The answer is no, and that’s my final word.”

“Yes, Mr. Murdoch”.

Washington DC:

“But did anybody ever consider the value in safety, you idiot? Call it torture, call it annoyance, call it anything you want, this country hasn’t been hit since that fatefull morning of (begin humming melody of ‘Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!’) nine eleven! We got good info out of that tortu- I mean, those harsh interrogation techniques. Now get the F#@!K out before I have Blackwater- I mean ‘Xe’- throw you out you miserable liberal media maid you! Somebody get me O’rielly on the phone- now!”

“Y-y-y-y-y-you got ‘em, hello? Who is this?”

“Bill O’reilly?”

“This is Bill, who is this?”

“XXXXXXXXXXX”

“Yes sir! And how can I serve my country today, sir?”

“I knew I could count on you, Bill. Look, I need someone to lean on the military chief of…”

“A plane? You mean like, a big jet?”

“Not just any plane, Bill- AIR FORCE ONE!”

“That’s gonna scare a lot of…..o-o-o-o-o-hhhhh, ohhh, now I, now I see…hee hee hee ha ha!”

“Yeah, so take care, bye bye.”

“Hee hee ha…*click!*

Melbourne, Australia:

“OK, so has the Navy perfected our Swine Flu at the border?”

“Yessir, it’s been mixed with the human version and we now are confirming sustained person-to-person. We’re at the verge of pandemia, just say the word”.

“Word- and the word is, ’spread’! I want it in Canada, New Zealand, New York and..”

“Aren’t you hitting New York kind of hard sir? I mean they’ve already been throug-”

“When I want your opinion Ill give it to you, you snot nosed…”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t quite under-”

“When I rattle your cage, …you..”

“Sir?”

“When I ask for toilet paper, you roll out!”

“Ohh, ohh, uh, a-huh ha ha, I see.”

“Good. Now get somebody to close a school, any school. Try those catholic schools, they’re always happy to scare hell out of…”

“Yessir.”

New York City, April 27th:

‘Project Sky-Scare’

“Karl, come in Karl!* fzzz-bzzzt-”

“Karl here come back”

“What’s your 20 Karl?”

“Airborne and approaching the lucky lady sir!”

Bzzzt-pop”Roger that sky-scare, out”

“Out- Yeeeeeee-haaaaawwww!! Lookit them boogers run! Ha ha!!!”

Washington DC:

“Um, Mr. President, it’s urgent. I’ve got a lady from New York on the phone, she sounds level headed but the story’s a bit fantastic- says there’s a jumbo jet circling her apartment building since 7:00 o’clock, and people are ready to jump out of windows. we’ve traced the call to the project apartments in Manhattan- she checks out.”

“Good heavens! Well, I guess this is where George Bush sat and read to children about goats or something, right?”

“Yes I believe so, sir.”

“Sir? There’s a call from capcom saying it’s all true, but just a photo op sir”.

“Scaring thousands out of their ba-jeezers? By whose orders??”

Australia:

“Fzzzt-crackpop BzzztKarl, Dick, Rupert- ha ha!! Look behind you Karl!! Lookit me you assholes!! ha haaa ha haaa! Wooooooooooo! USA! USA! USA! W-ooooooooooooo! Who’s bad now, motherf@!$Ker ?”

“Bill? O’reilly is that you?”

“Dam right Dick!” Hadaya like me now? W-ooooooooooooo!” USA! USA!

“Bill, where are you?”

“Right behind Karl- in the fighter!! W-oooooooooooooo! Ha ha! Get the photograph! Get the picture!! Where’s your guy?”

“On the Empire State Building there- johnson, come in! Are you there? Photo Officer Johnson, are you there, come in! Take the picture- take the picture!!”

“Sir- I’m ready to take- I’m trying to- oh no!!!!!!”

“Johnson, report!”

“Karl?”

“Yeah Dick”.

“Rupert?”

“Yes, what about the photo?”

“Oh darnit, darnit, darnit, darnit, DAM!!”

“Johnson, what is it?”

BATTERY EXHAUSTED.

“im sorry dick.”

“You’re ass is dead meat.”

’sir?’ ‘take another pass! take anoth…”

“d-e-a-d.”

That’s it for this week folks. Stay tuned next week for, AMERICA is RIGHT- FAR RIGHT!

 

our founder

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EarthSourceMedia Reports for April 18th, 2009

‘Ode to Guantanamo’ 

by joey racano

“Popular culture

 as viewed through a mulcher

People in charge

on bones like a vulture

Brain’s being filled

children being killed

A boy ain’t a man

’till blood has been spilled

playing video games

then flying jet planes

Come out from the orchard

it’s time to be tortured”

The heavy metal gates clanged shut, echoing around the compound like the lowest note on a piano. Like always, I looked toward the low-hung ceiling, talking to God just ‘neath my breath- “Thank you, lord, for giving me this chance to help America, keep ‘er safe. Thank you, Jesus, for the chance to get this towel head off the streets of Bahgdad, away from good christians-to-be. And most of all lord, thank you for making sure the next one tortured won’t be me’”

Behind the nameless doors, faceless prisoners counted the footsteps; seven, eight, nine- “Oh no, nine! That means me!’ Oh please, Allah, Yahwie, Jesus, Jahovah- make it fast, don’t let it last’. I have been a good man, a servant of divinity. Of self, of family, of duty.” 

The keys jingled their song of menace, like a wind chime in the halls of hell. Handsome young men in starched uniforms and perfect haircuts siezed the prisoner by the arms, slipped netting over his face and marched him to the gurney. It was time.

I filled the water buckets with precision, every movement, every sound, designed for maximum terror. I started out one drip at a time, one drop, drip, drop, ployp, plip, ployp, plip…

Then the water rushed bucketward like an angry North Dakota river, and the drip-drop of our young prisoners tears may as well have been my imagination. I tried hard to reconcile the irony of it all; trying to be creative in my quest to cause this prisoner terror, yet he was the terrorist. Hmm. We laid him on the gurney upside down, feet toward the ceiling, and it reminded me of the crucifixion of Christ.

“Blub blub’, he said, ‘blub blub!”

A gurgle and a lie

“Arg, ahh, he went, argh ahh-

God, please don’t let me die!”

We finished with him 11 days later

knowing that America had become that much greater

And though we avoided church and so the eyes of our creator

we knew deep down we would answer to him later 

And finally, -a confession! That dirty rotten slime!

Not only was he a terrorist, he was guilty of the crime

of wanting to be different from what we hold so dear

like Jesus mom and apple pie and TV’s full of fear

I went back down to my underground and turned the TV on

and witnessed 14 murders, a game show and a don;

I knew right then that we were right

and the towel heads must die!

Thank you lord, for letting me serve

now, please excuse me,  I must cry”

a poet and a patriot

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EarthSourceMedia Reports for March 23rd, 2009

It has been said that red and yellow make green; it may be more accurate to say that red -as in bloodshed-and green -as in the pursuit of cash- may make yellow.

 ~Yellow Tide: Amber Alert~

July 14th, 2012- Huntington Beach, California

The day was not unlike many others; a mild breeze swept a salty musk quietly ashore, where sleeping worshippers of the sun bathed in its warm caress. The lanky lifeguard sat high atop his crows nest perch, dreaming of a girl who passed through last season, she having stayed in this seaside hamlet just long enough to rub lotion onto his back, love into his young heart, and salt into his wounds shortly thereafter.

He was startled awake by the laughing of gulls, one of which left a no-return deposit on the wood railing nearby. That was close, he thought and reached for the towel the guards kept for just such occasions.  Standing tall, he gazed out to sea and wiped the sleep from his eyes. A second such gaze convinced him that the blur on the eastern horizon was more than the flotsam of today’s siesta.

“Pass me those binocs”, he ordered the junior lifeguard working on homework inside the hut. “Gimme!” he said again, gesturing palm-up and without looking.  

“Whaddisit?” asked the teen, handing a powerful pair of binoculars out the rough-cut window.

“Looks like a boat- no, maybe a couple- looks like a mess of small sailboats, all bobbing up and down, maybe a couple miles out”.

“Lemme see- I got good eyes. Lemme see”

“Here- what do you see?” asked the lifeguard.

“Dunno. Is there some sort of reggatta today or sumpin’?”

“Gimme those back a minute. Dam! Get me that walkie-talkie, dude.”

Coastguard Headquarters, Orange County, California

“Captain Braggalot, I’ve got a lifeguard from surf city on the horn talking about a bunch of boats offshore, little, tiny sailboats. He wants- umm, is a race happening today -er- some kind of reggatta? You wanna talk to ‘im? He sounds pretty upset”.

“Nope, nothing ’till September- call upstairs to DHS, ask them if they have anything showing up on radar”.

“Yessir! Mother-may-I, Little red wagon, do you copy over?”

“Mother May I this is Little Red Wagon, come in please?”

“Wagon this is your mother, what’s goin’ on down there over?”

“Lifeguard at tower 22 says he’s got bogies by sea from the east, can you confirm that via radar over?”

“Wait one, wagon” (Fitzman, can you- what the…!)

“Wagon we’re coming right down, don’t make any more transmissions on this frequency..”

  

Office 2137, Pentagon Complex:

(DHS Secretary, pressing intercom button):

“Colonel Dinkens, can you come up to 2137 on the double please? Tell no one you’re coming, and come alone.”

“I’ll be there on the double Ms Napolitano”.

Main Street Pier, Huntington Beach

“Dude, I am so freakin’ out! This is way ‘deja-vu; remember when the Police Chief in Jaws, umm, what was his name, Brody, or what was his real…”

“Martin Brody- Roy Schieder”.

“Yeah! Remember when the shark was in the pond and those guys were doing this exact same…”

“Shut up and keep making that announcement- keep holding that trigger thing down when you speak!”

YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE- ALL CITIZENS PLEASE EXIT THE BEACH IMMEDIATELY- THIS IS AN EMERGENCY- BY THE ORDER OF THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY ALL CITIZENS MUST EVACUATE THE BEACH AREA IMMEDIATELY- REMAIN CALM-

“Dam bro, what the $@!^k is goin’ on, man? Where are all these guys coming from- they look Chinese!”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s stop and talk to one of ‘em- stop the blazer, stop for a second, maybe we can ask…Sir? Uh, sir? We’d like to ask you a few- what is…can I read that piece of paper in your hand? Can I- do you mind?”

“Whoa dude- if this is what I think it is-”

“Christ, will you people just go around, just go aro-HEY!! You! Yeah, you- you can’t leave that there- no! You can’t moor your boat there, dingy, junk, whateveritis, you CAN’T LEAVE it THERE, ya hear me?”

Jesus, they’re like locusts! What in the hell is goin’ on here?”

Office 2137, Pentagon Complex:

“Got here as soon as I..”

“Good, sit down and listen! I just got a call from Wen Jiabao, and he’s saying…”

“Wen who? I’m sorry, I don’t…”

“Wen Jiabao, knucklehead, he’s the Chinese Premier, and he’s worried about his money- actually, he’s worried about our economy and who can blame him? Out of the two trillion dollars China has scattered around outside it’s own country, 70% of that is U.S. government loans, and that ain’t no chopped liver, ya understand me?”

“Yes Janet, but what can he do right now? You can’t get blood from a stone-”

“I’ll tell you what he can do, and he’s already doing it! He’s emptying his prisons, mental hospitals, reform schools sewers and poor houses and he’s sending them over here on little boats with deeds for an acre and a half each, and our intelligence reports say he sent a billion of them this morning at gunpoint, he’s shooting anyone who heads back for China and…”

(Head hung down and shaking back and forth) “And?”

“…and he’s sending the second billion right now. Got any ideas?”

“Uh-uh- ….hey, wait!”

(Napolitano and Dinkens at the same time): “Cheney’s detention centers in Arizona!”

Huntington beach; Bolsa Chica Bluffs:

*squeeeek!!!*VERMIND YOUR BEACH TOWELS AND UMBRELLAS-THEY WILL BE RETURNED TO YOU AT A LATER DATE- ALL CITIZENS PLEASE EXIT THE BEACH AREA USING THE HANDY WHEELCHAIR RAMPS PROVIDED NEAR THE CONCESSION STANDS AND-

“So, those things are some kind of-”

“Property titles or something, yeah, I think so. That must be how the Chinese intend to get paid for financing the Iraq invasion.”

“Those ungrateful bastards- don’t they appreciate the way we kept them safe from terrorism so they can be free to bust college students, sentence them to death, parade them around a stadium of screaming lunatics and then shoot them in the back of the head? The nerve!”

*Squeek!!!*PEAT-DO NOT BOTHER WITH YOUR COOLERS, BLANKETS OR UMBRELLAS- THIS IS THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SEC-squeek!!!!*

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC; the Whitehouse:

“And I want to be kept up to the second..”

“Yes sir.”

“…. the instant….”

“Yes sir.”

 ”….no matter wha..”

“Yes sir.”

(Red phone sounds the theme from Hawaii 5-O):

“It’s the Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao!- Agent Tribbleeto?”

“Yes sir?”

“Leave the office now”.

“Yes sir”.

“Premier Jiabao, what a pleasant sur-”

“Don’t boo-shit me, Mr. Obama please. Where’s my money?”

“Why Mr. Premier, the office of the treasury is printing additional…”

“Like Mr. Ahmadinijhad says, Mr. Obama- ‘worthless pieces of paper- you’re broke! Everybody knows it and you, meester fellow, have exactly one hour to fess up with it or I send the signal to send the jailers to send the key masters to send the inmates to their awaiting armada to send to Huntington Beach! One hour, Mr. Obama-goodbye.”

Coast Guard Headquarters, Orange County:

“Shiny Red Wagon this is Arizona Border Patrol do you copy? Repeat, the detention centers are completely full and we…”

“Arizona this is Red Wagon, are you ok out there? Come in Arizona!”

Main Street Pier, Huntington Beach:

REPEAT, DO NOT COME BACK FOR YOUR PICNIC BASKETS- “Aw, what’s the use? C’mon kid, let’s take one of these boats and head for trinidad, I hear the surfs up!”

“Cowabunga dude! Hey- you kids, save me a boat! hey man, come on dude, save me a…”

The end?

 

our founder

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                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Racano photo

EarthSourceMedia Reports for March 18th, 2009

~The Berryessa Bluebird~ 

On the shores of Berryessa

in the early days of spring

when Aluetian Geese ride a stiff March breeze

and the birds begin to sing

the Berryessa Bluebird flew into my life

from beneath the cloak of a lichened oak

and he brought along his wife

The lake was a misty madness

that made it hard to see

around or through the drops of dew

that moistened our RV

He stood before our mirror

reflecting on himself

his back a hue of electric blue

his manner none of stealth

It may have been the peanuts

It could have been the seeds

It might have been the Blackbirds there

were using all the reeds

He took on his reflection

to its challenge he did rise

For the bird of his affection

he would fight until he dies

He hollered, “What’s the password?”

His rival did the same

They shouted at the exact same time,

“Who goes there- what’s your name?”

But he hadn’t needed worry

for the handsome bird in blue

was his very own reflection

Mr. Bluebird- it’s just you!

joey racano

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EarthSourceMedia Reports for February 25th, 2009

~Night-night, Satellite~

Snowy Glacier, Antarctica:

Antarctica; ‘primordial ice castle,

isle of white- final frontier of all that is right’

(against a backdrop of steady, roaring wind) …”Dr. Rixmuffin, the new satellite data has come in. You want to wait until…?”

“No, let’s look at it right away. Back to the tent-bunker”.

(wind quiets as they enter tent) …”Tell me Doctor, the graphics are very colorful, but what does it all mean?”

(removing snowshoes) …”Well, the pink represents the ice cover, and the blue is open ocean water. See how it’s changed from 2005 to 2006? It’s worse than we thought. We can’t wait any longer- it’s time to send up the Taurus XL. Call washington”.

 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington, DC

(Handsome well-dressed black man handles red phone) … ”So like I said, Emperor, we simply don’t have the $3,000,000,000,000 at this time. The solution is that we’ll have to work together to stabilize the gulf, and end the wars, saving the US two billion a week- that’s a trillion annually, much of which can be redirected to pay off the…”

‘Uh, Sir?

I’m sorry sir, it’s Dr. Rixmuffin from Base 12 in Antarctica, he says it’s urgent”.

“Emperor, I have to let you go, please accept my gratitude for your patience and humble thanks for the honor of your friendship. Michelle? Of course I’ll tell her you said it, I know she feels the same way-goodbye”.

“OK, what’ve we got Randall?”

(hands him the phone)…

“Mr. President? Dr. Rixmuffin here, Base 12; the European satellite data has come back with significantly less pink and substantially more blue. I think you know what it means- there’s no time to argue between the parties.”

“It’s not really an argument Steve; China is opening a new coal-fired power plant every three days, we owe them a ton of money, and the only resource America still has is coal.  The only realistic way we can pay off the debt is to mine more coal and send it to China. It’s a tough call- those are jobs that vote democratic, but the climate is rising. This will spiral out of control if we don’t act right away- we’ll have to show the danger of burning more coal! I agree with you, it’s time to send up the Taurus XL.”

A,T&T Headquarters Building:

(four sharp knocks, followed by a whistle)

“Enter, agent 9.”

“Thanks- wow, what a cool little room this is! All this electronic gear! And ATT is ok with this?”

“Sorry 9, that kind of thing is all ‘need-to-know’. For right now, we’re monitoring the conversation between the Whitehouse and Antarctica, and I don’t think MRC is gonna like what I’m recording-listen to this!” (click* ‘it’s not really an argument, steve- china is opening a new coal-fired power plant every three days, and…)

“Yikes! We recorded the Whitehouse?!”

“Hell yes- National security, project M.E.R.C.Y. We’d better get this to MRC right away.”

“And MRC is..?”

“MERCY. Stands for Murdock Rove Cheney“.

“As in Rupert Karl and Dick? What do they care?”

NASA HQ at Vandenberg Air Force Base, Lompoc, California:

“Project Manager Brunschwyler, how may I help you?”

“Mr. Brunschwyler? Please hold for the President of the United States.”

(turn that down, turn it down!! I think this might really be…)

“Mr. Brunschwyler?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you, one moment.”

“John?”

“Yes sir!”

“Barack Obama. I hope your day is going better than mine is.”

“I-uh, I-I…”

“The reason I’m calling is, your country needs you John. Is that satellite of yours ready to go out into orbit?”

“Yes sir, standing by for your order, sir.”

“Get it done. Dr. Rixmuffin will see to it you have everything you need. And John?”

“Sir?”

“I’m counting on you.”

“Yes sir!”

(hangs up phone)…”OK everybody, look alive, it’s showtime!” (cheers, shouts)…

Gargoyle Mountain, Montana:

(Deep within the Cheney Fortress, cauldrens smoking, vats bubbling, lights flashing, electrodes warping, vroomp, vroomp, vroomp!)…

*hisssss-click-sizzle* M.E.R.C.Y M.E.R.C.Y, come in mother mercy-whirr-click-hiss*

(view from behind, bald head in swivel chair, whirls around- revealing man in white scientists smock)..

“Mother M.E.R.C.Y., go ahead.”

*Mr. Cheney, we’ve intercepted a relevant transmission, sir- should be arriving in the…* whir-click-hisssss*

“Got it. Good job- now, delete this recording, any record or transcripts and e-mails immediately. Also, blow up any private aircraft carrying former webmasters ASAP- Mother M.E.R.C.Y. out!”

*Out-hiss-click*

Melbourne, Australia:

ooooga   ooooga   ooooga! “Murdoch, go ahead United States.”

“Rupert? This is Dick- we’ve got a big one- NASA is about to launch-”

“How many times have I told you, Richard? Just take care of it! I’m up to my ass in complaints about the chimp cartoon in the NY Post! I’m trying to keep war crimes off the front pages, but I can only run so many stories honoring the burn victims, y’know!!? Even 9-11 isn’t working since the bottom dropped out!”

“Rupert, it’s a satellite to measure carbon and identify natural heat sinks, like forests. It can’t take off!”

“Richard, you’re overreacting! The Europeans already have a satellite and no one’s paying any attention-”

(in background: “yeah darth, you’re over reacting! Hey, what happened to getting Libby a pardon? Ha ha ha har-dee har!”)..

“Who is that?”

“Nothing, Richard, it’s Karl fooling around on the extension is all, he’s been drinking, let him alone- *karl-hushup!*

“Dr. Rixmuffin’s paying attention, Rupert- and so’s America’s new darling! We don’t need a mom and apple pie American satellite blasting off and corraborating the European data! The oil companies don’t want it, the logging companies don’t want forests to be seen as ‘heat sinks’, ‘clean coal’ doesn’t want it, and for the love of god, Rupert, that satellite better not take off!”

NASA, Vandenberg Air Force Base, Lompoc, California:

“OK people, look alive, and we’ve got T-minus 10! Propulsion?”

“Pro is a ‘go!”

“Nine! Thermal sheilding?”

“Sheilds are ‘go!”

“Eight! Coolant?”

“Go, sir!”

“Seven! -power plant?”

“All go!”

“Six! Five! Four! Ground?”

“(yawn) Ground is go, sir.”

“Always cool, aren’t you Epstein? Three!”

Two!” One! and Mark!”

“Ignition, liftoff!!”

(bright burn, roaring and thunder)…

Burbank California:

“Hi everybody, this is Johnny Zinger for ABZ news, and from the mountains to the prarie, welcome- tonight we bring you a special report on the OBAMA HELICOPTER controversy, the PEANUT BUTTER doomsday scenario, and the horror of STEROIDS in SPORTS! Oh, and also, we’ll cover that little launch of a carbon monitoring satellite from Vandenberg- but first this word from today’s ARMY- an army of one! (news program music)…

A,T&T Headquarters Building:

(four sharp knocks, followed by a whistle)

“You may enter, agent nine- what’s the word?”

“Well, M.E.R.C.Y. says the Orbiting Carbon Observatory is ‘ixnay on the arbon-cay’. And no more money for Orbital Sciences Corporation, either. Says we push the little square clicker button on the remote at three minutes in.”

“And what’s that gonna do?”

“Just what the man said- ‘ixnay on the arbon-cay’ . Chevron, Exxon and Clean Coal say no way on the arbon cay- satellite must not launch.”

Vandenberg AFB, Lompoc, California:

“Sir, the launch is vibrating a bit.”

“What’s the heat-ometer reading?”

“Normal. But the flux-tramitozometer says there’s an extra 13 ounces on board we can’t account for.”

“Steady as she goes.”

“Aye.”

Burbank California:

“Hi everybody, this is Johnny Zinger for ABZ news, back again and we take you now to Vandenberg Air Force Base, where they appear to be having some trouble with the $280,000,000 dollar satellite finally being launched after 9 years of work and planning. The crowd is surprisingly large for a 2:00am rocket launch, all necks craned way back as the rocket goes into ‘pitch and yaw’.

Wait-wait- hold it- it’s arching down now, a sweeping pattern of fire in the sky, trailing down, ever downward towrd the earth once again- I’m not sure it’s supposed to be doing this, but no-no NOOO!!!!”

silence

Everybody, this is Johnny Zinger for ABZ news saying the satellite has crashed into the ocean just off of Antarctica. Into the ocean where ice should be. Into the warming waters. For ABZ news, this is Johnny Zinger saying, stay tuned for news at 11:00, where OSCAR reigns supreme!

“(And) somewhere out in the eternal ink of space, one more species crash lands

one more race of intersteller butterfly, caught in its own cocoon

fails to shed the cosmic umbilical cord, and no one noticed

and no diety cared, as both cry and tears froze

in the cold impartial vaacum of a forever night’

joey racano 2009

 

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EarthSourceMedia Reports for February 20th, 2009

~’The Stained Glass Ego Parlor’~

by joey racano

There is a place. Yes, folks, there is a place indeed. A place that points up the folly of mankind and the hypocracy of religion like no other place on Earth. A place of insatiable greed and unknowable egomania. Located in Garden Grove, California, this place is called the ‘Crystal Cathedral’- the:

~Stained Glass Ego Parlor~

First, let me tell of my own experience with this many-story glass abomination; just a short distance away, is located the Orange County Dog Pound. I remember the dogs all barking, all suffering, my dog among them. But unlike some of the others, I was there to spring my dog from a different abomination. Yelp yelp, bark bark howl cry. And what, I wondered, were they all saying? It could have been something like:

“Kill me fast, or kill me slow,

but that disgusting display of christian vulgarity

has GOT TO GO!”

And now, let’s join our story, already in progress (for 2000 years)…

A few days ago, at 9:30 in the morning, yet another line of amazed foreign tourists were, well- touring- touring the Crystal Cathedral. The people and banter have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent, but the facts and event are real:

~Stained Glass Ego Parlor~

“Welcome to the Cathedral, would you like to make a large donation today?” asked one of the two ‘greeters’ at the gem-encrusted portal (located quite close to a desperately poor neighborhood).

“Sva, jess, jess, vee vould like do make zee donazzion, yah, yah. How mudge do gedd do Evan, yah?” asked one elderly tourist.

“Ain’t none of us going to heaven, sweety”, answered the other door lady chewing her gum loudly. “Donations go in here, thank you, and Jesus thanks you, and Reverand Schueller thanks you”, she finished, slipping the cash portion into her hip pocket. She then excused herself to ‘use the bathroom’, and put the money out in her car. Every few thousand helps, ya know. After all, if she wasn’t supposed to be stealing from Reverand Scheuller what Reverand Scheuller was stealing from the nice lady, then why did God get her this job working the door at the stained glass ego parlor in the first place? ‘Baby need a new pair o’ shoes’, and all.

“Right this way, watch your step please, chop-chop- there’s another bus coming in about 20 minutes, so, oops- careful dear, that’s right”.

“Oooh! Ahhh!” said the tourists, relieved of their worldy cares -and cash- as they gazed in awe at the gargantuan glass structure. Cavernous is a good discription. We at EarthSourceMedia think that cavern may indeed lead straight to hell.

“Step over here, no, pay no attention to that” she tells them as a well-dressed security guard drags a destitute spanish-speaking mother out of the building by her hair.

“Madres pappino, madre o’ jesus, my fama-lee starving, pleeze, pleeze let me stay and pray please!!” she pleaded.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Sorry Lolita, but there’s a dress code here, and your skin ain’t dressed in the right color, kapish amigo? said the man, depositing her in the alley out back and blowing hair from his open palm.

“Now this,” the tour guide lady continued, “is where we line up at the illuminated cross and hear all about our new suicide prevention program. That’s it, single line, please, good, good. After spending $400 Jillion Ka-tramillion ba-dillion quillion dollars on rings, buckles babes bras and booze, the generous reverend decided to do something for the community with the four dollars and 18 cents remaining for fiscal 2008, so what better, he thought, than create a suicide prevention program?”

Just then, there was a small commotion at the door, as a 43-year old homeless man walked into the cathedral and handed the two receptionists a wallet, a California drivers Lisence and a small donation wrapped in a brief note.

“SHHHHHHHHHH!” said the ladies, as though it were a library. “Quiet!” they admonished. “Do you want the lord to choke on his angel hair pasta?”

“Umm, sorry ma’am” the man whispered respectfully. “Here” he whispered, “you may want this” he said, handing her a note. “Sorry!”, and he walked over to kneel at the illuminated cross.

“Well I never!” snipped the lady with the pocket full of cash, about to make another car run. “Anyway, we here at the Crystal cathedral know that God can’t help but be watching because the glass shines so -especially in the sunlight, whenever the Orange County smog lifts every Christmas morning- and besides, even God couldn’t miss something this tall!” “Well, knowing we’re watched as well as being special to God, what with all the dough we raise, we decided to take our new program seriously. The way we keep folks from getting too desperate is to communicate. LISTEN to them.”

Meanwhile, the 43 year old homeless man kneeling at cross says to her, “Ma’am? Ma’am, can I ask…”

“Not now! the tour guide lady snarls at him, “Can’t you see I’m talking about something important?!!”

“Now, where was I…Oh, yes, our suicide program…we take care to LISTEN to the downtrodden, the poor, the destitute, the CHOSEN PEOPLE of JESUS.”

Nearby, the kneeling man has quietly drawn a gun from his dirty pants, takes a last look around the temple and places it to his temple.

“So, being as there is a great need in the community, the reverand decided to go without a pedicure this week, and…”

BLAM! the single shot rang out through the cathedral.

“Oye my Gvod! screamed the touristas-on-tour. “Oye my Gvod!”

“Oh, now don’t worry about the mess. That poor soul is gonna catch HECK for messin’ up that floor in about 30 more seconds by you-know-who- can y’all just wait a minute while I take care of this? I’m truly dreadfull sorry-…”

She takes out a small walkee-talkee

“Security? Security, we have another  ’dropper’ at the I-cross, note this is a ‘dropper’ turned ‘checker-outer’. Please 86 ASAP on aisle 7 near the used-communion wafer bucket- thank you.”

“Now, where were we? Oh yes, so, we LISTEN, we CARE, we HEAR and we RESPOND. Now, you may say to yourself, ‘why would these busy people care, and how would these important people find the time and the love in their hearts, to…’….”

(for the homeless man) this is THE END

I’m joey racano for EarthSourceMedia, saying, from the troops praying on Easter before going out to the kill zone, to the secret vats at Anhouser Busch where they make the holy water, goodnight and sleep on your guns.

 

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EarthSourceMedia Reports for February 17th, 2009

~When things Collide!~

(suspenseful music from horn-section….)

The world has gotten pretty weird- people don’t pay attention to an impending police state or a runaway climate- but everyones worried about killer peanuts!! Anyway, welcome to the program. Tonight, it’s a real smash-up, a total head-banger.

(kick in with sexy saxophone…)

~When things Collide!~

 ”My name is Friday.

…I work Thursday through Monday, off Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and I carry a Saturday night special. This is Moody, my partner. He’s pretty stable, but his name is moody. We work cold cases, sometimes on hot nights. This one was different though. Everything about it screamed, ‘watchout you idiot! Watch where the hell you’re going!’”

(Theme from ‘When things Collide’…)

It started a few days ago, when………….” (everything gets wavy and blurry)….

 ~When things Collide!~  

Starring:

joey racano………….Detective Friday

John Willibonkers……Detective Moody

Mighty Casey………….Baseball Player

Wrong-Way Korrigan…Sub Commander 1

A ‘Head-On’ Production

“It was late when we got the call- a French and a British Submarine were both out on routine nuclear patrols in the Atlantic Ocean when the French sub, (carrying a crew of 111 and 15 nuclear missiles) the Le Triomphant collided with the HMS Vanguard, which carried a crew of 40 and 16 Lockheed trident D5 missiles. Nothing really to worry about, just a couple bakers dozen nukes and a collision between two nuclear-powered submarines. I guess you could say it turned out ‘rad’. I mean, who would believe the bungling militarys of the world could flirt with disaster like that and get off so lucky? Had things gone just slightly different, a lot of bad stuff could have leaked out. Ah, what’s the use- everybody already knows all these navys scuttle their nuclear subs in the north Sea anyway! I guess it’s a sort of bioluminescence envy, right?

Anyway, that’s about when the next report came in.

(sound of short-wave radio….)

Well jeepers creepers, I said when i read the tale of the tape- it was coming in like a horror-comedy-melodrama all rolled into one. The hair on my neck stood up like it had been rubbed with the Bullwinkle balloon from the Macys Thanksgiving Day Parade:

Dot-Dash_dot-dot-   -privately owned-Iridium sattellite– dot-dash-dashetty-do-da-dash- collided-with-russian-out-of-service-communication-satellite-in low-Earth-orbit-dash-dot-dot-do-da-ditty-ditty-dash-a-muh-bob…

I put down the book I was reading and listened intently to the communication. What an amazing sequence of dents and events! I wasn’t really enjoying the book anyway- ‘When Worlds Collide’. It had been written in 1933 by Philip Wylie and Edwin balmer- had they known something we didn’t know? It certainly seemed like it! So, two subs and now two satellites? Hmm. Maybe there was a connection! After all, the internet runs on satellites, cell phones run on satellites, TV, cable, heck, lot’s of stuff runs by satellite now so why not submarines? It would certainly explain the collisions! One thing must have led to another!

My head began to ache. Too much thinking, deducing, weighing the facts, figures and possibilities. The probabilities, the improbabilities and -argh! Enough of that! I switched on the TV and kicked back in my favorite lounge chair- there must be a game on. It was time to relax. Yes! Baseball! Perfect way to get away from this collision-mania. Ah, the Red Sox vs the Yankees, and wouldn’t you know it, two outs, bottom of the ninth and bases are loaded! Uh-oh, this guy looks like he can hit it out of the park, and so I turn up the volume and pop a beer-

‘YES FOLKS, TWO OUT, NINTH INNING, SCORE TIED AT TWO AND HERE COMES CASEY- THE PITCHER WINDS AND DELIVERS AND ITS HIT DEEP! DEEP TO LEFT-CENTER FIELD AND JONES COMES RACING OVER FOR IT! UH-OH, HERE COMES SMITH RACING FROM THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION! tHE BALL IS SINKING RIGHT BETWEEN THEM, CASEY ROUNDING THE BASES, AND JONES AND SMITH ARE ABOUT TO- OH! oH MY GOODNESS, JONES AND SMITH HAVE COLLIDED AND THE BALL ROLLS BACK TO THE…..

Of all the rotten luck! I turned off the TV in a huff and picked the book back up. I guess this just wasn’t gonna be my day, no sir. 

I’m joey racano reporting for EarthSourceMedia saying, from the outer reaches of the atmosphere to the depths of the sea, keep your eyes peeled, your head up and watch where the hell you’re going!

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EarthSourceMedia Reports for February 5th, 2009

WINDOWS of OPPORTUNITY

starring Bill Gates

 ”Friends and family,  partners and colleagues, ladies and gentleman, we are all here today to embrace the future.

So, with an eye on social justice, environmental sustainability, the time has come, of course, to explore new opportunities to make some money. Welcome you all here to the 2009 TGP symposium, ‘WINDOWS of OPPORTUNITY’, which in this case TGP stands for ‘This Guys a Psycho’. Now, without further ado, it is my great and distinct pleasure to introduce the man in this land with a plan to put cash in your hand, ladies and gentleman, Bill Gates!”

 (loud applause)

*#!%@feedback screeching from microphone* 

“Thankyou, thankyou, yes, thanks, thanks, okthatsenuffthanx, everybody, thanx”.

“This is always one of my favorite events of the year, and this year is no exception. Except, this years convention is kind of exempt from being an exception because of the complexion of todays worlds perception of Americas reflection. A-hem. I thank you for inviting me to join you here today. Now, before I get to my speech, I’d like to invite you inside my own private world as I travel the globe with an eye on the miseries of the poor”.

S-s-s-s– THUPP!! -(opens a small medicine bottle full of mosquitos replete with hairy legs and striped probiscus)

“Having learned from Donald Rumsfelds bird-flu vaccine investments, where he spread a virus AFTER cornering the market on the worlds only bird-flu vaccine, and again learning from Dick Cheney and Alberto Gonzales, who invested in private Texas prisons after manipulating our laws and constitution in order to incarcerate more people, I came up with an investment strategy of my own…involving DDT and other too-long dormant miricles of medical science!!!

Because it is impossible to convey the sadness of third world children being attacked by malaria-carrying insects, I have decided to better illustrate their plight by releasing a few hundred mosquitos among you here for your perousal.”

z-z-z-zz-z–z-zz–z-z-z-z-z-z-z   b-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z    zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz   zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

(gasps, the crowd staggers backward a few steps)

“Another thing that has caught my attention is the unexplored opportunity to capitalize on apian throat mites. Honey production is dropping everywhere, as is cotton-clothing production, and I, for one, am not about to let that one slip away, simply because you, my fellow entreprenuers aren’t ‘feeling’ me on this one. And so, I hold here in my hand a pail of Killer Bees, which I hope will work to make you all more aware of the plight of apiaries everywhere. Being a hardy breed, these little suckers would eliminate inventory loss from Brown Bear intrusion, and other breaches in product integrity. Let me just peel off the plastic cover- ”

(Screams, gasps, people head for exits)

B-u-z-z-z-z-z-   B-u-z-z-z-z-z-z-!!

…”no-no-no, don’t worry, there were little holes punched in the top, they can breathe, they can breathe,,,”

“Then there are the untold hidden and perhaps as-yet unpercieved advantages of new medicines -possibly manufactured in a space-laboratory- that could stop mamallian diseases in their tracks, before they even get a chance to become a threat! And so, in order to show you what I mean, I thought it might be easier to grasp if I allowed a few hundred rabid skunks to mingle among you- no- no- don’t be afraid, these aren’t yet in the ‘goonie’ stage, as it were, not yet, no- well, maybe that small group over there with the overactive salivary glands and -

(People running screaming, yelling, climbing on chairs)

“Remain calm, it’s only 9 shots and we have at least eight of those right on the premises, wait-!!  UNGH!! What’s that- smell- unhhh those over there went ‘off’ I must apologize for the odiferous consequences of my little demonstration..but look, see? Over there- the answer to any venom, a wheelbarrow full of Madagascar black=clawed scarlet-fanged scorpions, yes, just turn that barrow upside down and-…”

(Moaning, dying, screaming, cussing, sirens wail, police bang at doors)

…”and that’s it for tonight folks, this is Bill Gates, with ‘WINDOWS of OPPORTUNITY’ saying, goodnight and go with grace! 

Oh yes, and the Purple Recluse spiders, in the 55 gallon drums, let ‘er rip, that’s right, not gonna miss a chance to tap into that commodity, are we folks? Of course not! Not don’t be alarmed, they won’t- ah- ahhh-  ARGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Security! Security!

 

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