This week's question comes from G.W. of Hood River, Oregon: "Geo, would you please tell us what you think of smart meters?" Not much, G.W., not much. In fact, I don't trust anything that has smart in its name. Smart car, smart home, smart phone, smart watch, smart tv, smart money, smart breakfast cereal, Maxwell Smart... Smarties... To me, if you have to say you're smart, you're probably not. Now, about smart meters in particular: Some people think they're the greatest. Namely, public utility companies and government regulators. Some folks are passionately opposed to them. They fear unhealthy microwave radiation. Or they oppose the intrusive mining of personal power usage data. Or they object to coercive confiscatory fees levied against those who choose not to participate in Smart Meter programs. If you ask me—and G.W. did just that—Smart Meters are just another example of busybody technology. But I'll let you decide for yourself. So, here's a list of hot links covering the pros and cons and cons and cons and more cons of Smart Meters:
That should keep you busy for a while. As for me—I don't need a Smart Meter. I get all the energy I need for free—from the wind, from ocean waves, in dumpsters and landfills, out of the mouths of pelicans or the nets of fishermen, and from the charity of people who toss food from their cars or from their beach chairs. It's all renewable, and the Public Utilities Commission hasn't figured out how to control it. Yet.
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Yjo od ejsy jsmmrnd ehrn upi jsbr uout gomhrtd om yjr etpmh oksv, Gigidt wukk dvef bi aubl tw tihot owr qust zzd ldll idbk? Wziu!
Even though I haven't devoted much of this space to seagull activism recently, that doesn't mean I'm not active behind the scenes. I belong to a worldwide network of like-minded bird-brains, and I have recently received some top-secret messages from secret friends of mine in the resistance. Quietly, without fanfare, these brave heroes are protesting the global persecution of poor, starving, innocent seagulls. And they have shared some before-and-after photos of their handiwork, which I, in turn, will share with you now. You have no idea how it warms my soul—and my stomach—to see how my compatriots are fighting injustice wherever they find it. I can't wait for their next top-secret messages.
For more background on what we're battling, click Hate Update in the Categories list in the sidebar. Power to the Seagulls!
Look. I have never been to Russia. I don't read or speak Russian. I don't think I've ever met a Russian. I don't even think I've ever taken food from a Russian, although I certainly would if the opportunity arose. But I do promote everything seagull. Well, almost everything. As I have mentioned previously, I occasionally encounter references to seagulls that are less than flattering, if not downright inflammatory. And I've posted a whole series of reports on worldwide seagull hate.
Riddle me this:
What kind of person is wound up a little too tight? Answer: The kind of lonely troll who submitted this comment after yesterday's post: "Geo, have you ever considered how many trees had to be chopped down in their prime, merely to be turned into Popsicle® stick riddles?" My answer: "Yes, I have considered that. And in my opinion it was just enough." (Trying to set a new World Wide Web record for most colons used in a single blog post.) I wonder if this is the same malcontent who reported me to the Thought Police after I remarked that a plastic-bag-swallowing seagull won't be making the cut when natural selection picks the starting lineup. The next thing you know, the Southern Poverty Law Center (which has nothing to do with poverty or law—or the South, for that matter) will be adding me to its list of haters. Give me a break! I am a seagull. I am the guy who reports on seagull hate. I don't hate my own kind. I just reject the stupid ones. (Trying to set a new World Wide Web record for most boldface text in a single blog post.) Yet...there's a saying that all publicity is good publicity. Being added to the media's favorite hate list could bring some traffic to my blog. But I do hope I don't live to eat those words. That could be as unpleasant as eating rubber, glass, or Styrofoam. There has to be a better way to recycle that stuff. (musical link by the Tijuana Brass, 1962) There I was, just doing my job. Picking up remnants of last night's beach party. Keeping it clean. There was a pretty strong wind coming out of the southwest, and I had to fly after a loose napkin that was being blown down the beach. When I caught up with it, I was out of breath. No, scratch that. I hardly broke a sweat.
Clutching the napkin in my bill, I flew all the way to the nearest congressional office, only to find it was closed. That long flight has delayed the publishing of my post today. But it's better late than never.
I am hoping one of you knows what this message means, and what's best to do with it, before it's too late. For all we know, the survival of the country may depend on it. Thanks for caring! |
Meet the AuthorHi. I'm Geo the Seagull.
I'm the distinguished Park Host on South Jetty Beach at Bandon, Oregon, USA. I'm a firm believer in First Principles: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Your Lunch. Archives
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