Tragic Tandy Hills Photographic Calamity

When last we spoke I said I was heading out to get in some aerobic stimulation. Late afternoon, temperatures in the 60s, I figured I'd go to the Tandy Hills, again, maybe getting a good picture or two of the Fracking (or Fraccing) being done by Chesapeake Energy to the formerly, sort of, pristine Tandy Hills.

But no Fracking was heard as I exited my vehicle. It was quiet, no wind, birds chirping, beautiful. I walked along, holding my camera bag in my left hand, my arms swaying back and forth, like arms do when walking fast.

I had not made it off the cement sidewalk entry to the Tandy Hill trails when, suddenly, my camera went flying out of its bag and landed hard on the cement. I picked it up. Turned it on. It did not respond. Tried again. I got a sign of life. The motor began to whir, the lens popped out, but there was a grinding noise. The display lit up for a second. Then went away. I pushed the shutter button. Nothing.

I quickly came to terms with the fact that I had killed my 8 year old Olympus camera at the Tandy Hills. A fitting place for a sad demise.

My camera was already on its last legs and I was already looking for a replacement. I've got my choices narrowed down to the Olympus Stylus Tough-8000, you see above, and the Canon PowerShot SD880 you see on the right. I like the specs of the Olympus camera. It can survive almost a 7 foot drop. I can take it 33 feet underwater. It can handle being way below freezing. And it is crush proof.

The Canon is top rated for the quality of its pictures, color-wise. And its speed of processing. Neither of which is a huge issue to me. I've been perfectly happy with my, now dead, antique Olympus. I'm thinking getting a new Olympus, that would not die from an untimely death drop, is the way to go.

It's like an omen. Old camera killed by being dropped. Get a new one that can survive such a calamity.

Revenge Of The Life Changing Events

I can be easily amused. I can be entertained by observing screwy oddball behavior. I know a hot-blooded Latina with the stereotypical Latin bad temper, a person of the sort, usually, I would have put long ago into the reject pile. But, for some reason I find it funny to watch, like it's performance art and I'm just watching, I'm not really there in the room.

I used to know this real oddball who would repeat the same behaviors over and over again, with no self-awareness that she was doing so. Time and again this person would claim to have had a Life Changing Moment. It could be a book, a movie, a TV show, a new person she met who is like the brother, sister, cousin, whatever she never had. Just about anything could be a Life Changing Moment.

What made it funny was this particular person's life never noticeably changed, not in the improving sort of way. The Life Changing Moments never seemed to put the brakes on increasing the level of morbid obesity, ending the personal slovenliness, including living like a pig in a sty.

The series of Life Changing Events brought this person from a reasonably healthy weight, living in a nice house, to being so big she has to go in sideways to squeeze into that pigsty I already mentioned.

Now that I'm thinking about it, this same person, with all the Life Changing Events, happening to a life that's a living train wreck, also has an interesting method of getting revenge, when she perceives, via her drug-addled, distorted thinking, that someone has somehow done her wrong. She erupts into a big nonsensical, neurotic, angry upset, which causes the object of her insanity to have no choice but to reject her. She then goes through a series of followup behaviors that are as predictable as the sun, including saying that, "The best revenge is a life well lived."

Which leads the object of the "revenge" to be amused and ponder how a hugely obese, horribly homely person, who lives like a slob, in clutter and filth, who has all sorts of legal problems hanging overhead like a Sword of Damocles that can come cutting down at any random time, how can such a person be so cluelessly self-unaware as to say their best revenge is to live a good life?

That's just funny. If that's a good life, please don't let me ever see what a bad life looks like.

It's like this same person can casually say something or someone is ugly, can comment on someone else's looks in the rudest of manners, directly to the object of her rudeness. And yet this person has to have steel reinforced mirrors, so they don't crack when she looks in them. Dogs barks, children cry, men shrivel, when the hulking behemoth comes into view.

It's like on the old Mary Tyler Moore Show, at one point Murray said something was stupid. Ted Baxter bristled and said something like, "I don't know what it is, but there is something I don't like about that word, stupid."

Ted sort of knew he was stupid. He knew that was not a safe word for him to be using, lest it cause him to be the brunt of a joke. Which is what makes it perplexing as to why a rather homely, ugly type person would so easily use the "ugly" word.

Now, please understand, I generally do not comment on someone's looks. Or say someone is ugly. But if that person does not subscribe to the same good manners, they are fair game. So, if you are ugly, talking about other people or things being ugly. Well, I'm likely somehow gonna mention that you are not one to talk about ugly, if the situation arises where it seems appropriate. Particularly if the person is even uglier inside than out. Then they really are fair game.

Now, I've gotta haul my fat ugly carcass out of this pigpen and go do something aerobic on steep hills, now that it has warmed up to being in the 60s. Going to be in the low 20s tonight. Not happy about that.

I'm Having Me A Mystery Here In Texas

A week or so ago I noticed a perplexing phenomenon that has me, well, perplexed.

Okay, here it is. People all over the world are connected to the Internet. People all over the world use Google.

On my Blogs, I put this little widget called FeedJit, that shows the latest 50 visitors to the blog. How long ago they arrived, where they came from. And, if they came from a search engine, FeedJit shows the search string.

The latest incident of the baffling, perplexing mystery is occurring right now on my TV Blog. About 2 hours ago I blogged about last night's American Idol. I mentioned the girl in the bikini.

So, looking at my TV Blobs FeedJit stats, right now, 1 hour 37 minutes ago, someone from Mocksville, North Carolina came to the blog using the search string, "Idol's bikini girl brouhaha."

At that exact same moment, using precisely the same search string, someone from Houston came to the blog.

And now it gets real weird, 5 minutes later, using precisely the same search string, someone from Beirut, Lebanon came to the blog.

How would 3 different visitors from different locations use the same exact search string within a 5 minute period? With the first two at exactly the same time?

If this were the first time this had happened I might not find it so perplexing, but it has happened multiple times on the blog you are reading right now. With the most instances being people Googling "biggest butt in the world." On 3 occasions there have been clusters of 3 to 5 visitors, arriving at my blog within a 10 minute time frame, from locations all over the world, using that same "biggest butt in the world" search string.

Why? How?

Maybe there is something to what I've always thought to be nonsense, that being psychic connections and telepathy. Maybe there is some field of energy that envelops the earth, which connects people, with at any given moment any given individuals synapses may be firing a the same time, from the same stimulus and the next thing you know 5 different people in 5 widely different locations find themselves Googling to find the biggest butt in the world.

Or, maybe they are all on the phone with each other at the same time, sitting at their computers, talking about last night's American Idol, or big butts and one says, "hey, let's Google 'Idol's bikini girl brouhaha.' And magically all use the exact same syntax and spelling.

Anyone have any answers?

Jackie Ethel Joan: Women of Camelot

Along with most of the rest of America I'd grown sort of tired of the Kennedy's quite some time ago. I don't remember, exactly when I developed a strong disdain for Teddy Kennedy. Likely it was over his Chappaquiddick dissembling.

I'm finding Caroline Kennedy's attempt to be anointed Hillary's replacement sort of embarrassing. She does not have the gift of easy articulation that her dad and brother and mother were blessed with. I remember thinking Caroline was a bit lacking in the swift wits department, years ago, when she and John Jr. were being interviewed by Barbara Walters and Caroline could not remember, "you know, uh, those words, famous words, you know, uh, that my dad said in his inauguration speech."

Unlike most of America, Caroline was unable to remember "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."

Last week, despite my supposed disdain for the Kennedy's, I read Jackie Ethel Joan: Women of Camelot, by J. Randy Taraborreli. Reading this book I felt almost like some sort of voyeur, seeing history from the inside, as the Kennedy's experienced it, particularly Jackie.

I had no idea Bobby Kennedy was also a heavy duty unfaithful husband. I figured with all those kids he and Ethel had, how could Bobby find time for Marilyn Monroe or other women. Apparently I was wrong.

But, the worst for shameless, shameful behavior is Teddy. I did not know an awful lot about Joan, except for the sensational tabloid, found drunk on the streets type stories. By the time I finished this book, I really liked Joan. Teddy Kennedy did her wrong in so many ways, for so many years, it's appalling.

I'm reading another book about the Kennedy's now, called Sons of Camelot by Laurence Leamer. A recurring theme in this book is the Kennedy penchant for extremely risky behavior. That risky behavior's end result is many of the Kennedy tragedies. Driving drunk off a bridge, womanizing, flying in bad conditions (the demise of at least 3 Kennedys), refusing police protection, driving drunk or drugged.

So, when I finished the Women of Camelot I was curious what Joan and Ethel looked like now. Joan was pretty much a beauty queen when she was younger, Ethel not so much. Some of the 21st century photos of Joan are just sad, but there are some where she looks pretty darn good. Some of Ethel are down right scary. Ethel is 80 now. Joan is 72.

When Bobby Kennedy was murdered, Ethel was about 4 months pregnant. That baby was born December 12, 1968 and named Rory. Rory was scheduled to be married on July 16, 1999. Her cousin, John F. Kennedy Jr. crashed his plane and died on his way to Rory's wedding.

I guess if Bobby and Ethel had stopped reproducing after having 9 kids, there is a chance John Jr. might still be alive today. I say, might be, because he would have had almost 10 more years, by this point in time, to have done himself in by some other reckless behavior.

That is Ethel and Rory Kennedy in the picture at the top. Rory looks just like her dad. Spooky.

The Sweetwater Texas Rattlesnake Roundup Anti-Venom

It's not too early to start making your plans to head out to Sweetwater, Texas, the 2nd weekend in March for the annual Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup.

My only visit to the Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup was in 2002. At that time Coors Light sponsored a Largest Snake Contest. I don't know if Coors Light is having a contest for this year's Roundup. Or what the prize might be.

I blogged previously about the Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup and included some of the comments my YouTube video had received regarding the snakes. This morning I got a new comment, this to that particular blogging, rather than the YouTube video.

This morning's commenter seemed to sound like an authority on the subject of the Sweetwater Roundup. Despite what others have said, this commenter claims the Roundup provides a valuable service due to the milking of venom from the rattlesnakes. Others have told me the venom milked at the Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup can not be used for medicinal purposes due to the unsanitary milking methodology used.

Below is this morning's comment to the previous blogging about the Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup...

It's obvious by the comments left that none of these people really know what they are talking about. You can make anything seem bad by the way you present it. This event has been going on for years and is the world's largest. West Texas has an ABUNDANCE of rattlesnakes! You even find them resting at your front doors, within the city, sometimes. AS FOR THEIR HABITAT--IT'S
QUITE STABLE AND SECURE. Animals were put on this earth for human needs. EVERY snake that is caught is milked (you get bit by a rattlesnake in this area--you'll be alright--due to the treatment you receive from the anti-venom). The snakes are not mistreated. People are educated in safety--since there is an abundance. Every bit of the snake is processed/used--the venom--the meat--the skins--the rattles. Honestly, you have a small bit of information to be judging so harshly. Check out the facts before you go rambling on.

Below is the YouTube video of my visit to the Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup...

Friedrich Nietzsche & Fort Worth

Last week I wrote a blog in which I was talking about an article in the Seattle P-I that I thought was of a sophisticated nature, the likes of which you'd never see in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, both due to the elevated level of the critique and some of the polysyllabic words and references used, such as a reference to Nietzsche.

I suggested that so few of the Star-Telegram's readers would have a clue as to who or what Nietzsche was or is, that you'd never see a reference to someone such as Nietzsche.

As a public service, in my ongoing attempt to raise the erudition level of my few Fort Worth readers, let me explain, Friedrich Nietzsche was a German philosopher, born in 1844, died in 1900. He wrote about religion, morality, culture, philosophy and science. While some attention was paid to him while he was alive, his greater fame and influence would come after his death.

Below is an excerpt from Wikipedia about Nietzsche....

Readers have responded to Nietzsche's work in complex and sometimes controversial ways. Many Germans eventually discovered his appeals for greater individualism and personality development in Thus Spoke Zarathustra, but responded to those appeals divergently. He had some following among left-wing Germans in the 1890s; in 1894–95 German conservatives wanted to ban his work as subversive. During the late 19th century Nietzsche's ideas were commonly associated with anarchist movements and appear to have had influence within them, particularly in France and the United States.

By World War I, however, he had acquired a reputation as an inspiration for right-wing German militarism. German soldiers even received copies of Thus Spoke Zarathustra as gifts during World War I. The Dreyfus Affair provides another example of his reception: the French anti-semitic Right labelled the Jewish and Leftist intellectuals who defended Alfred Dreyfus as "Nietzscheans".

Many political leaders of the twentieth century were at least superficially familiar with Nietzsche's ideas. However, it is not always possible to determine whether or not they actually read his work. Hitler, for example, probably never read Nietzsche, and if he did, his reading was not extensive. However, the Nazis made very selective use of Nietzsche's philosophy; this association with National Socialism caused Nietzsche's reputation to suffer following World War II. Mussolini certainly read Nietzsche, as did Charles de Gaulle. It has been suggested that Theodore Roosevelt read Nietzsche and was profoundly influenced by him, and in more recent years, Richard Nixon read Nietzsche avidly.

Nietzschean ideas exercised a major influence on several prominent European philosophers, including Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze, Jacques Derrida, Martin Heidegger, Albert Camus, and Jean-Paul Sartre. In the Anglo-American tradition, the scholarship of Walter Kaufmann and R. J. Hollingdale rehabilitated Nietzsche as a philosopher, and analytic philosophers such as Alexander Nehamas, William E. Connolly and Brian Leiter continue to study him today. A vocal minority of recent Nietzschean interpreters (Bruce Detwiler, Fredrick Appel, Domenico Losurdo, Abir Taha) have contested what they consider the popular but erroneous egalitarian misrepresentation of Nietzsche's "aristocratic radicalism". Bertrand Russell in his epic History of Western Philosophy was scathing in his chapter on Nietzsche, calling his work the "mere power-phantasies of an invalid" and referring to Nietzsche as a "megalomaniac".

So, now you know, Nietzsche influenced people as widely disparate as Mussolini, Charles De Gaulle, Teddy Roosevelt and Richard Nixon. And Hitler. He may even have helped bring about the Hippies in the 60s. I don't know if Fort Worth had Hippies during the 60s.

I Love Comments From Seattle

On the 6th day of the new year of 2009 I blogged about Fort Worth Bad Design vs. Good Design Elsewhere. I'd previously verbalized how appalled I am by downtown Fort Worth's new Omni Convention Center Hotel. When I wrote the "Fort Worth Bad Design" blog, I'd just read a real good article in the Seattle P-I about new buildings in the Seattle zone and it crossed my mind that maybe one of the reasons Fort Worth seems to fall victim to so many architectural oddities is because there is no erudite, cogent critic in the local media, that being media like the Star-Telegram.

So, this morning I got a comment from the writer of the above referenced architecture review, in the Seattle P-I, Lawrence "Larry" Cheek. He's been a Texan before, so he knows whereof he speaks regarding Fort Worth, the Star-Telegram and Texas.

Below is Mr. Cheek's comment....

Durango, I'm the author of the architecture review in the Seattle P-I that you recently cited. Thanks for your comments. It would take just two ingredients for an "article of this quality," as you called it, to appear in the Startlegram. One is a Fort Worth resident with a bit of insight, understanding of architecture and urban design issues, and a passion for the subject. Okay, plus some ability to write clearly. Second, one editor--just one--with some ambition and ability to imagine that the paper could be something other than what it always has been.

All that's needed is to bring these two together. Someone needs to start the process. That's how I began writing architecture criticism almost 30 years ago, at the Tucson Citizen.

BTW, I started my career at the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal. We didn't write much about Nietszche there, either. But there were plenty of people there, then and I'm sure now, who could carry on an intelligent discourse about psychology and civilization. It's a mistake for newspapers (and bloggers) to misunderestimate their readers and pander to the lowest common denominator.

Anyway, thanks for the compliments. You have an interesting blog; keep it up. This may be the future of journalism.

Yikes! If I'm the future of journalism, God helps us all!

Chesapeake Energy Fracking Fort Worth In The Tandy Hills

An army of trucks and equipment moved on to the Tandy Hills in the past few days. I first saw the army on Friday, when I was leading my Mom & Dad to the Ol' South Pancake House.

This morning I learned, from Don Young, that the "fracking" process would begin today at the damaged area of the Tandy Hills.
So, armed with my video camera I set out to record the dirty deeders in action. In a blogging earlier today we saw pictures of a recent Fort Worth fracking, that caused a big cloud of who knows what chemical stew.

I did not know if I would see a similar cloud today at Tandy. I was not shocked when I did. A constant smokestack-like plume blows up and away. When I got downwind of it I didn't like it. It reminded me too much of the first time I was ever in Los Angeles, never having experiencing smog before, with my eyes burning.

The thing that surprised me the most was 3 big pipelines, running from the drilling site, on to the public property of the freeway, then through a culvert under Interstate 30. And then to the Trinity River to extract water.

The Trinity River is a bit low right now. How does Chesapeake Energy get the right to suck water out of the river, I can't help but wonder?

When I first headed west from Tandy Hills Park to the drilling zone, I saw a Fort Worth police car sitting at the end of isolated, dead end Ben Avenue. I suspected Chesapeake had enlisted the help of the police to keep anyone from getting close enough to see what they were up to.

By the time I got to Ben Avenue the cop was gone. I suspect he saw my cameras and hightailed it out of there before he was caught on tape being where he shouldn't be.

Below is video in which you can sort of see and hear what is going on at the Tandy Hills, this 12th day of the new year of 2009.

Whataburger What A Mess

Whataburger is a regional chain. There are a lot of them in Texas. You may have heard Hank Hill or Bobby mention Whataburger on King of the Hill. I have never been in or had a Whataburger. The restaurants look real tacky with their striped roofs and odd building shapes and garish signs. I assumed Whataburgers were likely not a good thing. Wikipedia seems neutral on the issue.

And then a couple days ago I got one of my favorite emailer's periodic email newsletters, in which she described her "working" experience at Whataburger. After reading that I know I'll never visit a Whataburger.

I share my friend's experience with you as a cautionary tale....

"I was able to escape my captors at Whataburger. I've been working/slaving at Whataburger for a coupla months now. I hate it. They work you like a dog. Without any training, teaching or explanation, Frank, the GM, started me on the grill.

For breakfast that means I was responsible for the tortillas, the bob eggs, scrambled eggs, the sausage/egg taquito mix, sausage patties, any meat patties, and bacon. You have to anticipate the volume of food to cook. We'd get busloads of people. If you run out of any of the above items, it means the cook has to hold up production. They are rude when that happens.

You must scrape the grill when the grease and meat get cooked/caked on. They were working me 10 hours a day. I couldn't feel my toes when I'd get home and my back ached for every year of my age. It's a young person's job, for sure. My face looked like I suffered from rosacea. All red and pink from the heat of the grill. Occasionally, my grip would slip and my knuckles or fingers would scrap the 350 degree grill.

If the cook ran out of anythng like large or small cheese, lettuce, buns, tomatos, onions, pickles, I'd have to run into the cooler and fill up their pan. If I'd take a step back to take a drink of water, the manager was on my like white on rice and would command me to sweep and mop the kitchen floor, take the trash out, clean the grill, make more gravy or whatever he felt like.

Again, they worked me for 10 hours a day. Did I mention I hated it? And while they were no rocket scientists and while they provided me with no training - they just threw me on the grill and I was just supposed to know the lingo and how to do the job.

Next time you go to Whataburger, peek at the trash can you just emptied your tray into. I had to empty those trash cans and lift those bags full of food and drinks.

That was just the grill gig...They put me on the board to make sandwiches and again, with minimal explanation, wanted me to be fast at making all the sandwiches. I apparently wasn't fast enuf.

The next thing they put me on was produce in the back. I had to carry the boxes full of lettuce or tomatos and chop about 30 or more heads of lettuce into hamburger size pieces. I routinely had to core and slice enuf tomatos to fill 8 6x12 and about 6 inch deep pans. I got a hole in my right index finger that is just know healing from the core-er thingee. That was just from it rubbing my finger. It dug a hole in it.

The tomato slicer was scary. One bad move and I'd cut my guitar playing fingers. It never happened, but I wasn't swift at that either.

Part of that job was washing all the dishes. At 11am, when breakfast was over, they'd start bringing all the pans from breakfast that held greasy bacon, all the scambled eggs which by now were cooked on the pans pretty good. They'd bring for me to wash the metal spatulas they used to cook the eggs, the cooked on gravy dishes, the bob eggs rings, the pancake ring (oh yea...I had to make tons of pancakes), and everything had a layer of grease.

Next they put me on the front register. Easier in a way, but their register was a trick to learn. It was not logical and as they showed you stuff (only after you made a mistake), they would punch the keys so fast (almost like they were pathetically showing off) that I couldn't tell what the hell they were doing.

I had to refill all the drink cups -soda and coffee. I had to maintain coffee in the lobby caraffs, clean the soda station, refill all the cream, sugar, salt, pepper, forks, knives, spoons, napkins, sweet and low, stir sticks, and make sure there was always sweetened and unsweeten tea.

The customers were asses if I made a mistake and held them up. I had to sweep and mop the lobby and let me tell you - I hate people. They would just throw food and paper on the floor like it was a middle ages castle.

I had to make fries, onion rings, chicken strips, fish patties for their fish sandwich, and enuf fried pies. After a day of making fries, my eyes felt like there were boulders under my one remaining contact lens. They hurt.

As the food was made, I had to make sure the order was complete on a tray and go into the lobby and call out their order number. Did I mention they would work me 10 or more hours a day for $7.50 an hour. They really got their money's worth. And after all this, if I went anywhere in my Whataburger uniform, people would laugh at me and treat me like I was a moron.

My feet always hurt and I couldn't feel my toes.

I had no life left when I got home. I had no energy to do a gig and canceled a few of them out of pure exhaustion. And my hands were ugly. My nails always had meat or something under them and they looked awful. This is not a good job. You could not wear earrings. Your hair had to be completely under your cap or you had to wear a hair-net. The uniform was dark blut pants and their t-shirt. I was forced to buy some ugly non-skid shoes before the would let me start work and they hassled me everyday because I didn't have a belt until Kenneth brought me one from home that he gave to me. I got hassled if I forgot my stupid name tag.

We had had a few scary busy rushes the last week and so they brought in some outside workers to help us. Two of those helpers were the Area Managers kids - Andy and Briana. Nice enuf kids, I guess.

So, the last straw for me was last Sunday when I was working the grill. I had a great sense of accomplishment because I hadn't run out of anything during the breakfast rush and was keeping up with the demand of the job. When breakfast ended - the new GM, - Mark was trying to score points with the Area Manager and he asked Briana "what do you want to work today" Right in front of me the little princess sez - "the grill". So, Mark simply told me to go into the back and do produce and wash dishes. Needless to say, this pissed me off pretty good. Because it had been busy, there were lots of dishes to wash and I had to chop and slice even more produce than usual. I release my frustrations by banging the dishes pretty good. I asked him what I had done wrong and he tried to bullshit me and say I was the only one he could count on to do a good job. Yea... right. Then he said he didn't know if the others knew how to do that job. Yea...right...It's rocket science."

Well, that about ends the Whataburger part of the newsletter. The happy news that follows is that Whataburger was told to take their job and shove it. Because a new, much better, opportunity opened up for the former Whataburger slave.

Below is a Whataburger TV ad, for those of you have never been to the South or Southwest....

What Is That We're Smokin' In Fort Worth?

(Click here to see video and photos of the Chesapeake Energy "fracking" of the Tandy Hills Meadowbrook Neighborhood Scott Avenue, so called Thomas Well Site)

New Information from Don Young that makes one wonder what is being added to the air we breathe here in Fort Worth and surrounding environs, courtesy of the Barnett Shale gas drillers and their "frack" process.

In case anyone needs a reminder, this is what a "frack job" looks like. These pics were taken in east Fort Worth in early January, 2009, near Riverside Drive and I-30. The smoke was so dense that, at times, it obscured driving on the interstate highway.

Tomorrow, January 12, Chesapeake Energy will frack the so-called Thomas well about 1/2 mile east of this location which is in the West Meadowbrook neighborhood.

Did the City of Fort Worth warn us that fracking might be dangerous to human and animal health? No.

Did the neighborhood association send out an alert? No.

Did the state highway department issue a warning or close the highway? No.

Did the Star-Telegram send out a notice or a reporter? No.

Did Chesapeake Energy warn us that fracking involves the use of over 50 toxic chemicals that can cause cancer, endocrine disruption, neurotoxicity, skin irritations, cardiac toxicity, kidney failure, reproductive disruption, respiratory distress and developmental toxicity? No. No. Hell No!

Just what the heck is in all that smoke and dust that will float over Fort Worth Monday morning??? What exactly will our children and pets and us be breathing when the clouds roll by? Where will the dust settle?

More importantly, where are the elected officials that have allowed this to happen in our community? Do they have fracking in their 'hoods?

For a list of the toxic chemicals used in gas well fracking and other info about the dangers of fracking, look here:

Hydraulic Fracturing: Drinking Water Protected? Think Again

Is "Fracking" Safe? Or a Toxic Spew?

What is in that "Fracking" fluid?

EPA to Citizens: Frack You

Frac Water Chemical Components