An anti-wind rally turned ugly this weekend. The Vermonters for a Clean Environment demonstration near the Lowell wind power site got out of hand when VPIRG Executive Director Paul Burns was chased into one of the turbine structures by activist Steve Wright and a large turnout of demonstrators. A nearby resident captured video of the conflict on his iphone (shown below in the extended entry).

Burlington voters are taking another stab at fundamental election reform in the wake of the on-then-off experiment with instant runoff voting. Instead, for the next mayoral election, residents will choose their city’s leader in a manner more reflective of more modern sensibilities.

Instant Voteoff-Running will attempt to work with the trends in Burlington politics, rather than against them. With elections getting ever-more nasty, personal, and negative in the Queen City, this new system will allow voters to indulge their inclinations to vote against candidates, rather than for them.

Modeled after reality shows like Survivor, voters will be presented with a full option of candidates. Each week, those candidates will participate in forums and events, and at the end of the week, registered Burlington voters will vote on who gets kicked out of the race.

At the end of several weeks of voting potential mayors out, Burlington citizens will be left with a sole winner.

Proponents point out that voters will be able to complain equally under the new system, as when scandal inevitably hits, everyone will be able to honestly say that they, in fact, did not vote for the sitting mayor.

There was a breakthrough in the standoff over revenues between the legislature and the administration today. While the Governor and his allies have steadfastly maintained that wealthy Vermonters cannot possibly sustain greater tax burdens, and that additional revenues must instead come from kicking poor people off of Reach Up and taking away their Earned Income Tax Credits, negotiators have reportedly found an alternative option for struggling Vermonters who may balk at losing their state-funded support.

Under the alternative, low-income Vermonters can opt to pay for their increasing tax burden in labor, rather than actual dollars, and that labor will be put directly where it is most needed – in the service of rich residents.

“Our wealthy, important citizens, simply pay too much in taxes. I don’t think anyone even argues that fact any more. It’s important that the rest of us do our fair share at accommodating these most precious of Vermonters, so that they can be sure to be kept in the lifestyle to which they have become accustomed – and which they so richly deserve,” said one noted UVM economist.

He added, “when you see these folks having to cut down their trips to Europe to only 4 or 5 a year…. well, it just breaks your heart.”

Under the plan, low-income Vermonters will be able to continue receiving the Earned Income Tax Credit and Reach Up benefits by spending 50 hours a week cleaning houses, tending garden, or serving as valets for Vermonters earning more that $500,000 a year.

“It’s win-win,” one Representative said. “Our prosperity continues unabated, and those lazy slobs finally get some exercise. Anyone who has a problem with this plan just has no compassion whatsoever.”

As the intrepid Paul Heintz reported last week at the 7 Days website:

How much does Gov. Peter Shumlin hate on the Vermont House’s tax bill?

So much so that he’d rather kill himself than sign it.

…Shumlin said, pausing for a moment. “If you told me that I had to jump from a window, I would go for the highest building that I could possibly find to jump to make sure that I wasn’t here to see that tax package become law.”

The much-reported and talked about threat did come off as bizarre to many Vermont political observers, but it turned out the complete quote was merely in keeping with the season. In fact, Shumlin went on from there:

…and lo, will I be laid in my tomb. My cabinet will become fearful and go into hiding. But verily, on the third day I will rise again, in fulfillment of the scriptures, and I will return in glory, bringing forth a new covenant with the legislature.

After the Governor made good on his threat on Friday, following last week’s House vote on the budget, unconfirmed reports indicate that Sue Allen and Liz Miller went to the the tomb, only to find the stone had been rolled away from the entrance leaving the tomb empty. Hours later, the Governor appeared to his cabinet (which had been holed up in hiding). Reports are that Human Services Secretary Doug Racine doubted the resurrection until he was personally able to place his hand in the wound left where the legislature had stabbed him in the back.

Unconfirmed reports have also come in that that Speaker Smith was involved in a traffic accident on the road to Elmore, when he became momentarily blinded by a flash of light accompanied by a booming voice which was heard to say “Shap, Shap – why do you persecute me?”

 In a surprise announcement late this past Friday Entergy of Louisiana released a statement announcing that ownership of Vermont Yankee would be transferred to a newly created entity. In an unusual move Entergy has resurrected a previous plan that had been abandoned years ago. The new version is still to shift Vermont Yankee’s ownership to a small shell corporation, but now it has an innovative funding twist.  

A spokesman explained:

the new corporation, dubbed  Enexus EB-5 would, as the name implies,become an aggressive participant and seek investment “partners” through the federal EB-5 program. As part of the restructuring Vermont Yankee’s new owner Enexus EB-5 will immediately be officially classified under federal EB-5 as a “troubled business”.

This federal classification would enable the new company to tap into the growing rush for EB-5 money from foreign investors. Any foreign investor can put up $500,000 or more in an approved project that creates or preserves at least ten jobs. After two years the foreign investor receives a green card and US citizenship.  

Entergy claims this funding source will put to rest fears that the spin-off could be woefully under-capitalized and unable to meet burgeoning decommissioning obligations. Longtime VY opponents say that Entergy, under the earlier plan, could leave Vermont “holding the bag” for the aging plant’s decommissioning costs by transferring ownership and clean-up related liability to Enexus EB-5.

Vermont State officials expressed displeasure that they had no advance warning of Friday’s announcement. As luck would have it, and in a touch of irony Governor Shumlin, along with Jay Peak owner and EB-5 promoter Bill Stenger, are currently in Miami Florida to attend the National EB-5 Finance Seminar. Unofficially known as the Do your Business in the Sun Tour, this event is sponsored by the International EB-5 Investment Group (IEBIG) an industry trade group composed of dozens of investment bankers and immigration lawyers.

When contacted by phone one high level state office holder- a longtime opponent of Vermont Yankee – off the record expressed caution over the willingness of foreign investors to support an aging nuclear power plant – even for a green card immigration visa.  However, the same high level state office holder volunteered the following enthusiastic support for any utilization of the EB-5 program,

“It [EB-5 funding ]beats going for the highest building I could possibly find and jumping off”.

Asked for comment, some Vermont’s business community leaders, expressed admiration at Entergy’s innovative use of the increasingly versatile federal EB-5 program. This local support may indicate Entergy’s revived outreach and campaign style listening tour with state business leaders may start to pay dividends. Two websites,YesEEB-5VY.com and IamVYEnexusEB-5.com are currently in operation as part of the charm offensive. This overdue attempt to come to terms with Vermont’s social and political culture notably included a week long winter-time retreat by Entergy Louisiana executives at Jay Peak. This past winter the executives reportedly enjoyed “real”Vermont by skiing, touring a local brew pub, staying at a state of the art resort hotel and visiting an indoor water park.  

Foreign investors seeking green cards now have an expanding range of investment options here in the Green Mountain State. More than living up to its “quirky” image, Vermont offers green card- visa- seeking-foreign-investors opportunities in everything from brew pubs, artificial organ manufacturing, elegant retirement villages, to water theme parks. Now a “vintage” nuclear power plant has been added to the portfolio of Vermont’s unique EB-5 investment opportunities.  

Sources inside the Vermont Worker’s Center report that the organization has become aware that their wall calendar has not had a page turned for some time, and until only today has been showing the current month as May, 1987.

“It was kind of a shock,” one long-time associate explained. “We couldn’t figure out why no one else was talking about the ‘workers and peasants,’ and referring to every plan, gathering, and project as the ‘people’s fill-in-the-blank.'”

“It turns out that sort of rhetoric is a bit… dated. Who knew? No wonder folks have been looking at us funny.”

While employees of the VWC are currently underway updating their lexicon (which, some insiders point out, was already pushing it in the 80s) and adapting more current phraseology, they are curiously finding that their list of policy priorities needs no updates whatsoever.

Author’s note: Last November, Paul “The Huntsman” Heintz earned his nickname by writing a story about going hunting with Governor Shumlin. What Paul didn’t realize is that he wasn’t the only member of the State House press corps to get that particular invitation. But I chose not to write about my experience until the right moment came along. And this particular day, April 1, is definitely that moment.

“Male bonding, Vermont style,” he said. “You’re not real buddies ’till you’ve pissed the same tree.” 

I looked at the spot where our streams splashed the base of an old maple tree, steam rising into the cold night air. My eyes couldn’t help themselves; they stole leftward for a glance at the gubernatorial “package.” And looked away immediately. (Can say no more; sworn to secrecy.) About twenty feet ahead of me, I thought I saw a bit of close-cropped silver beard in the underbrush, reflecting the light of the moon. 

I turned my attention to the business at hand. We both shook loose the last drops and zipped up. What the hell, I asked myself. How did I end up here, out in the Vermont woods, deer hunting with the Governor? 

And peeing with the guy? 

After the jump: early morning gunfire, and a man called Squanto.

It all started innocently enough. I met the Governor at his East Montpelier manse in the late afternoon. The plan was to hit the woods, set up camp, and try to bag ourselves a buck in the early morning. 

“Hey, how ya doin’?” exclaimed the Governor, emerging from the front door. The prospect of some huntin’ — as he insisted on calling it — seemed to have coarsened his tongue and deepened his accent. (Remember in 2004, when John Kerry sauntered into an Ohio bait shop and asking, “Can I get me a hunting license here?” That kind of thing.) 

“Glad to see ya!” He slapped my shoulder. “And glad to enjoy some real, honest bloodsport for a change. You don’t know how many times a thirty-ought-six’ud come in handy at the Statehouse.

“But hey, let’s not stand around here! Let’s head to the great outdoors!”

He flicked his keyfob. The garage door opened, revealing a truly monstrous SUV that looked capable of some serious offroadin’. Or small-country conquerin’. “C’mon, hop in!”

He backed out of the garage and headed across the carefully-tended back yard and into the foliage on a two-track dirt road. After about 50 yards or so, his house barely concealed from view, he pulled to a stop. 

“Okay, team, everybody out!” he cried.

I looked around; yes, we were alone.

Except, again, in the brush: a glimpse of silver, a pair of intense eyes, there and gone.

We grabbed our gear, and the Governor stomped off into the woods. I followed as best I could, but I needn’t have worried about getting lost; we’d barely begun bushwhacking when we came to an open clearing, carefully manicured, with a complete campsite in the center. Two immaculate tents, a campfire in a perfect circle of rocks. On a pole nearby, a bug zapper with a solar panel.  It looked like something out of an Orvis catalog, with a hint of Hammacher Schlemmer.

“Welp, what say we stow our gear?” the Governor said, and disappeared into his tent. I did likewise, and found that the inside of the tent was also immaculate and well-outfitted. Sleeping bag, inflatable pillow, even a little battery-operated reading lamp. After checking everything out, I started unpacking my stuff… and then I heard quiet voices. One was the Governor; the other I couldn’t quite place.

I peered out through the tent flap, and there was the Governor sitting by the fire, talking to a man wearing buckskin clothing. A cast iron pot was hanging over the fire. The conversation abruptly stopped, and both men looked in my direction. The man in buckskin had a painted face and a distinctive salt-and-pepper beard.

“Governor,” I said, taking a seat by the fire. “Secretary Spauld–”

“Uh-uh-uh,” said the Governor. “When we’re huntin’, he goes by “Squanto.”

“Oh, um, okay. Squanto?”

“Squanto” stared at me; Shumlin spoke. “He don’t talk much. But he does cook a mean squirrel stew. What say we have a nice backwoods dinner?”

____________________

Darkness fell. Having sated ourselves on Squanto’s finest, we’d cracked open a couple of Gucci beers, and the Governor was telling childhood stories of huntin’ in the Vermont woods. Most of them seemed plausible enough; I wasn’t so sure about the one where he battled a family of bears in his birthday suit. But hey, a little dramatic license is part of the huntin’ experience, right?

A few five-dollar beers later, the evening wound down. “Hey, team, we should be hittin’ the sack,” said the Governor, arising from the fire. “Squanto and I have something… special… planned for tomorrow. Don’t we, Squanto?”

Squanto nodded vigorously, and the two men chuckled. Rather unpleasantly, I thought.

That’s when the Gucci beer made its presence known, and I found myself dampening a tree with Vermont’s First Citizen.

___________________

I woke up sometime after daybreak. I got out of my sleeping bag, put on some clothes, and emerged from my tent into a crisp late autumn morning.

The fire had burned down. The Governor’s tent was gone. As was the bug zapper. No one was in sight.

“Governor?” I said tentatively. “Squanto?”

A shot rang out.

“Hello?”

Another shot, and a ricochet off a tree to my right. Instinctively I ducked.

A third shot pinged off the ground. I scrambled behind the tree. “Governor?” I shouted. “It’s me! JVWalt, your favorite blogger!”

More gunfire. I leaped to my feet and ran, laughter echoing through the forest behind me.

______________________

Next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground in my own backyard. I had no idea how I got there. My clothes were torn, I had a few bruises, but — feeling around my torso — I was intact.  

I exhaled, picked myself up, cast a wary eye around; and made my way inside.

I didn’t know exactly what happened, and I couldn’t swear it was the Governor and “Squanto” taking shots at me; after all, it was huntin’ season, and I’d been out in the woods alone.

But this I know: I ain’t goin’ huntin’ with the Governor no more.  

The Lord Humungous is not pleased. This is why I gathered my friends and went to the Statehouse as you can see below.

Following conclusively on a clandestine investigation of “Climategate” which was undertaken decades ago by a super secret UN commission, so-called “global warming” has been officially declared dead.

Apparently, the idea that man-made climate change is rapidly progressing, or, indeed occurring at all is just an elaborate fabrication by several extremely powerful global forces.

Of course Barack Hussein Obama and his forward-thinking parents had more than a little to do with providing cover to the unfolding hoax.  

Originators of the infamous Nigerian e-mail scam,  these clever entrepreneurs cut their teeth on shady abalone speculation that eventually included unidentified investors in the Hawaiian Islands who were only too happy to represent young Barry as their home boy in exchange for a “favor” that he would one day be asked to return.

The ongoing investigation is expected to reveal who those investors were, as well as a host of other powerful operatives, from Wall Street to K Street, who have worked tirelessly over the years to achieve a seamless backstory.  A multi-billion dollar industry grew-up, almost over-night, in response to the perceived need to reduce carbon emissions; and it was all thanks to very clever marketing and some shrewd sleight-of-hand.

The UN Commission did find, however, that the unmistakable imprint of one man’s hand could be plainly seen in the complex architecture of the scheme.

Bent billionaire, Lex Luthor, employing his usual flair for theatrics, as well as some of the best movie industry masters,  provided the technical illusions.  So persuasive were their inventions that even the experts were fooled!

His interest in perpetuating the myth?  Coastal real estate.

That’s right, it was all part of an elaborate land-grab scheme by Luthor to devalue oceanfront property through rising sea-level scares.

It has now been revealed that global sea-level is actually dropping slightly, adding inches , and in some places feet to coastlines everywhere.  

Mr. Luthor’s recent bargain-basement coastal acquisitions, including the entire island nation of Naru, have actually grown since he purcheased them and their value is poised to sky-rocket in the wake of this news.

Even as this story goes to press, Prius owners are flooding into Toyota dealerships demanding the return of their SUV’s.  Open coal fires light the New England hillsides as communities breakout in spontaneous celebration of the good news.

Al Gore could not be reached for comment.

The press has been kept largely out of the neighborhood with the oil pipeline leak in Arkansas, so locals are being their own press via social media.

Here’s one photo of a back yard – not quite as unimpressive as the narrow channel of oil in the press is showing in street, is it?

Having been in a house where the oil tank dripped a little, but didn’t burst before it could be replaced, I can tell you the smell of that oil has to be horrendous. The homes on this block will probably be irreparable – the oil will soak into the ground, into the concrete of the basements, etc., and make the homes permanently uninhabitable.

Ready to stop Keystone XL, yet?

Photo source: AJ Zolten, Little Rock, AR