Okay, nothing quite reaches that finding on the Kim Irony Scale, but this one sure comes close:
Cleaner waterways in New York City have attracted more sea life, including seals, dolphins, whales, and sharks in bigger numbers than seen in a century.
Sadly, many don’t survive the trip — there are also more mammals washing ashore or getting stranded.
Cases of beached whales have surged statewide, from 22 in 2009-2013 to 41 from 2014-2018, data from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration shows.
In the city, Breezy Point in Queens has become the top place for beached whales, with two dead humpbacks being discovered there in 2018, according to the Atlantic Marine Conservation Society.
A third whale found last year was hauled off the beach in Jamaica Bay in September.
So Greenies, what’s it gonna be:
- dirty water / no dead whales on the beach, or
- sparkly-clean water / dead whales all over the place?
I’ll be over there in the corner, laughing my ass off.
A while ago, I drew attention to the floods which have inundated the Upper Midwest states like Iowa and Nebraska. What I did not know at the time (but should have), is that when there is catastrophe, can the fat finger of government be far behind?
There is much more to the “management” of the Missouri River basin than just how and when to drain water.
In the interest of habitat restoration, etc. (the highest priority since 2004), tens of thousands of acres surrounding the river and more than a thousand miles of riverbank have been mechanically altered by the Corps — not with an eye to controlling flooding, but rather to facilitate the “reconnection of the river with its floodplain,” believed to be a necessity in achieving the goal of species and habitat preservation and restoration.
When the Corps believed that protecting people and property was a more worthy aim than fish and wildlife, the riverbanks were stabilized, shored against erosion and high-water events. The channels were kept largely free of silt infill to facilitate the draining efficiency of the river that essentially deals with the runoff of vast millions of square miles of mountain and plains snow and rain.
Dikes were built and maintained. Levees, too. Chutes (secondary channels of a meandering river) were closed to inhibit the ability of the river to overcome its banks in seasons of high-water. All these things (and more) combined to permit millions of Americans to develop the reclaimed lands, for farming, ranching, and homes. Indeed, these millions of Americans were encouraged to do so by their elected representatives, who happily took credit for the resulting economic benefits and increased tax revenues.
And then in 2004, it all changed. Read the whole thing, and be enraged.
You should never plant a sandbox tree. It is too dangerous to have around people or animals, and when planted in isolated areas it is likely to spread.
Why is it that a warning about this murderous tree makes me want to plant a circle of them around my house? (Found via the Knuckledragger, thankee.)
Seriously: who needs those loud, messy (and illegal) Claymore thingies when you can get Mother Nature to provide this little party?
Sandbox tree fruits look like little pumpkins, but once they dry into seed capsules, they become ticking time bombs. When fully mature, they explode with a loud bang and fling their hard, flattened seeds at speeds of up to 150 miles per hour and distances of over 60 feet. The shrapnel can seriously injure any person or animal in its path. As bad as this is, the exploding seed pods are only one of the ways that a sandbox tree can inflict harm.
They even look badass:
Is it just me, or does this look like a spiked collar around the neck of an angry Rottweiler? It speaks to me, and what it says is: “Mess with me, motherfucker, and I will kill you.”
Afterthought: in the interests of Saving Mother Gaia, we should plant a ten-mile deep line of these bad boys along our southern border; I mean, who can be against reforestation?