“Cornithaca County” is a fictitious name for a real future. The first part of this book will contain stories, games, jokes, and activities that dissect the actions and intent of elitist policy making in the county. The second part will document actual incidents and issues that raise questions about the conduct of those who have been entrusted with the welfare of the public at large. At the end of the book, I will present a powerful circumstantial case — and a chilling denouement.
My bio should to start here:
“Early Sunday morning, June 4, 2017, I was sicker than I had ever been before. Too sick to even bend over, as I vomited all over the toilet, myself, and the bathroom floor — and I didn’t even care.”
This was the aftermath of being engulfed in a cloud of Roundup from a giant agricultural sprayer while I was mowing my lawn the previous afternoon.
The incident motivated me to write “You Know You Live near a Factory Farm When Your Kids Go Fishing with a Pool Skimmer” — a picture book with large print and cautionary captions. “Family Farm Fun” is the second book in the Factory Farm series.
At this same time I grew increasingly aware of the treatment that the rural community in the town was receiving, and began my blog on elitist policy making: Rural Tompkins County — The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Credentials.
As for right now, what should I do next?
I think I’ll go to my favorite pub. Maybe there’s someone there who hasn’t heard my story.
My brother says, “Good luck with that!”
People in Cornithaca County will climb anything to look down their noses at others, and what better way than working in a non-profit — they’re recession proof and smug in an “I’ve got a giving sticker on my BMW” way. • And whether you see it as pirated giving or the big dog gets the prize; today’s biggest non-profits have become so powerful and venerated, they seem more important than the causes they wave. A perfect match for Cornithaca’s “vibrant community” façade.