What's the big news this morning?
Bush's political "advances"? Hillary's numbers in Iowa? Giuliani's Texas connection, the one that's giving him an unbeatable war chest? The realization once again -- as we look at the distance between Hillary's numbers and her prospects (and the same for Giuliani) -- that money determines the winner, not input from voters? The discovery that the FBI has been using faulty technology for years, condemning many who were innocent? Musharraf's readjustment of the Supreme Court to ensure many more terms as Pakistan's president? More evidence that the surge may not be going well and that, once again, the administration has not done adequate planning? Jodie Foster turns 45?
The biggest news is inescapable, even if you've just spent the weekend, as we did here, watching the shredder deal with the biggest prairie grass harvest we've seen on this land -- ever. It was so high the dogs and some small humans got lost in it. The original native grasses -- blue stems, Indian grass -- have come back with a vengeance. Late yesterday afternoon we handed over the largest check to date for the mowing. Mowing took several hours longer than in past years. Some of the increasing cost has to do with the rise in diesel fuel prices for the tractor. But most of it is due to the blessing of heavy rains during the summer which turned normally dry Texas ranchland into a jungle of tall grasses. This crop stays on the ground, keeps the moisture in, mulches, insures that the seeds for next year get a good start.
We were lucky. That rain was most unusual. Drought is "the new normal." The extent of the drought -- world wide -- is deadly serious. Even if we're not directly affected right now, we will be. All bets are off. Tom Engelhardt reminds us:
The upper Midwest is also in rainfall-shortage mode, with water levels at all the Great Lakes dropping unnervingly. The water level of Lake Superior, for instance, has fallen to the "lowest point on record for this time of year." (Notice, by the way, how many "records" are being set nationally and globally in these drought years; how many places are already beginning to push beyond history, which means beyond any reference point we have.)
We know -- in spades -- what is happening in Atlanta. Agriculture in the next state west, Alabama, has been devastated. Tennessee, Mississippi, trucked water to small towns -- the beat goes on.
Migration is bound to increase. The influx of immigrants from Mexico won't be stopped by those who want to close the borders.
What about Mexico's Tehuacán Valley, where, thousands of years ago, corn was first domesticated as an agricultural crop. Even today, asking for "un Tehuacán" in a restaurant in Mexico still means getting the best bottled mineral water in the country. Unfortunately, the area hasn't had a good rain since 2003, and the ensuing drought conditions have made subsistence farming next to impossible, sending desperate locals northward and across the border as illegal immigrants...
But you can't stop people who are desparate. The question is, whose water will they be sharing? Well, mostly California's and Texas's water. As for California, "Southern California [is] itself just swept by monstrous Santa Ana-driven wildfires, fanned by prolonged drought conditions and fed tinder by new communities built deep into the wild lands where the fires gestate." Worse, Tehuacán is not the only area in Mexico suffering extreme drought. Most of its northern states are in the same situation.
The situation is globe-wide. Australia is drying up. Spain has seen serious drought and devastating fires. More people, less -- much less -- water. But our biggest news -- what should be our greatest concern -- is an America which assumes it will always have more water than it needs and brushes off any evidence of real trouble. It seems like we're completely unprepared. Again.
