How Is British Columbia Not Like Argentina

J-Mac'sGavel
IsNotBangedByTheHandOfGodVille

When I was a much younger man I worked in a wilderness camp in the Sooke Hills.

Which, come to think of it, is located not far from that most interesting development near the river that is the subject of that 'other' trial.

Anyway.

One summer I took a bunch of teenage kids on the Westcoast trail and then spent a few days at the camp itself cleaning gear, running FatBellyHours* by the bushel full, and playing Nature Stratego with a bunch of not quite teenage kids.

As a result when I got into town and started buying newspapers hand over fist, as is my want whenever I get back from any trip, I was flummoxed to find that the entire Falklands War had come and gone without my even knowing that it happened.

All of which is just a prelude to telling you that we (ie. C, the two E's, and me) have been on a remote stretch of the Northern California coast for the last week or so.

Which is a beautiful place.

But the Interwebz 'round here are, as far as I can tell, pretty much powered by the caged gerbils down the street at the local hardware/pet store.

As such, I've pretty much been offline since we left the EconoLodge in Ashland Oregon last Tuesday.

So.....

Given our prolonged absence you probably figure that I must have missed out on all manner of important developments in the RailGate trial, right?

Wrong!

And now, suddenly the judge has released the jury from duty and told them that School's out for Summer until Sept 13th .

After just one witness!

Good thing the issues being bandied about at this trial don't have anything to do with the trumping of public interests by corporate ones that are fully aligned with hidden government 'policies'.

'Cause if it was, well.....

Wouldn't that mean that, perhaps, British Columbia in the year 2010 just might have something in common with the Argentina of 1982?

Man.

Where is Woody Guthrie when we need him?

Seriously.

_______
You can learn more about the sheer joy of FatBellyHours here....
Oh, and I would be remiss if I did not mention that C. and I actually met at said camp in the hills the year before, back in 1981.

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