What kind of danger surrounds us here, in Westchester, in our ordinary lives?
As I pumped gas yesterday, I turned my face away to avoid the stink, and inadvertently glanced up at the posted message stating that gasoline fumes cause cancer, ingestion of gasoline is fatal, touching of gasoline has caused cancer in lab animals, gasoline is dangerous, highly flammable, and may ignite from static sparks, cell phone transmissions, or radio playing, or the ignition of the car you are pumping it into, and that it is oxygenated to reduce its potent greenhouse gasses, and I realized that right there, at the pump, with that scent still curling my nostrils, and nauseating me, and the excess dripping off the nozzle onto both the car & the sidewalk, that I was casually standing next to a dangerous machine (the gas pump) connected underground to hundreds of thousands of gallons of explosive chemicals, capable of exploding with such force and heat as to end my life immediately in the most horrible way, and the lives of all those around me on route 6 in Cortlandt.
I got in the car, and drove away. I did not call the Journal News. I did not write letters to Congresspeople complaining that I am forced to definitely risk my health, and possibly risk my life, and certainly offend my nose, lungs, and feelings of wellbeing in a direct, intimate highly personal way, with the stink staying on my hands for an hour afterwards, and possibly inducing a cancerous DNA change in one or two of the skin cells on my hands at least, and maybe on the lining of my nostrils, too.
I made no mention of the fact that the gasoline was purveyed by an untended, unguarded robot pump, capable of being misused in dozens of malicious ways, and I recalled the tragic night club fires started by disgruntled boyfriends in just that way, at least half a dozen times in recent memory.
I did not complain to authorities that the uneducated truck driver carting this noxious and highly deadly cargo was completely unsupervised, probably a low paid disgruntled man, possibly subject to odd notions of revenge against society for his lousy job, with its stinks and dangers, and lack of status.
I don't know if Phil Musegaas drives a car, or pumps his own gas, but if he DOES........ I want to know why he remains so taciturn about his daily encounter with cancer, nausea, & explosions, and I want to know why he continues to use a dangerous tankful of the stuff directly beneath his rump each day as he barrels along at 80 MPH, tempting fate, with nary a concern for who might be protecting him, and the 100 million others who come in direct mano-a-mano contact
with a noxious and death-causing substance, and then, after risking his health & his life that way, a couple of times a day, for a lifetime, he thinks he needs to go to NRC meetings, to figure out who is protecting him from his electric company,
all the while blithely ignoring the highly trained, psychologically screened, drug-and-alcohol-tested & highly dedicated professionals who ARE protecting him 24 hours aday 365 days a year, very unlike the careless 18 year old who takes his cash at the gas station, and maybe leaves his gascap off, and he doesn't give a hoot.
It's a striking comparison, and it's factually and logically true. It's not some strained spin. This guy is not behaving consistently. Actually I know why, and now I'm going to tell you why.
People get promoted. They get hustled. To gain the attention of a passionate in-crowd, it grants them romance, too. You have to be "caring" to make friends these days. People want to be responsible, to make a difference. They look for a way to help, but maybe joining the Volunteer Fire Department is too strenuous, too physical for them.
So they search around in a more armchair space,
in computer space maybe,
and get hustled by waiting sharks.
Being mere vicarious participants, which means they don't really see or know anything other than what they are told, they are put in a position of somebody "helping" them find out what truth is.
In "Truth-Seeking Space", ...
I've found "spiritual masters" who channel 10,000 year old angels via crystal pyramids on their earlobes asking me to join up, and give them my bank accounts.
I've found people who "know" the Air Force is using huge patterns of jet contrails to steer radio waves from the HAARP radar site in Alaska to areas that secret USA black operations wants to have a drought so Dick Cheney can conquer the world. (check out the Jeff Rense site).
I've found people who "know" that George Bush senior, in cahoots with Nixon and the CIA, killed JFK, and RFK, and MLK, and continue to take out witnesses to this day.
AND.....
I've found Blogsites and pamphleteers, who have consistently over-exaggerated everything nuclear for 25 years, because they've made a career out of misleading folks on the issue, actually becoming (without any degree, training or experience) supposed "experts".
Also.... there are the nice Green Careers available to enviro-interns. Like Lisa Van Suntum, and Phil Musegaas (or even John Hall). To work, you have to either believe, or pretend to believe, a whole lot of exaggerated concern issues,
issues marked "PC" on your grant foundation's list.
And THAT's why Mr. Musegaas fears his lightbulbs, but not his gastank.
Alice Slater, his Paymistress at G.R.A.C.E. foundation,
told him to.
