The crisis of depleted fish stocks in the north Atlantic has been slowly evolving for 100 years. The vast schools of "groundfish" - cod, hake, and haddock -are gone; the redfish are gone; the swordfish and big bluefin tuna are in a fight for survival.

The tale of woe is highlighted this week by a piece via the AP here, and another at the WaPo here.

It's the tragedy of the commons. And these commons" aren't really all that large. Most of the Atlantic is very thin in fish. They congregate, during their migrations, on the banks, like George's Bank, Stellwagen, and the Grand Banks, where their food is plentiful.

Government made it worse; federal subsidies for giant trawlers made it possible for fishermen to eradicate entire populations. And the significant commercial fishing lobby in Maine and Massachusetts - with their senatorial allies in John Kerry and Olympia Snow - adopted a "get it while you can" approach, and local politicians take the bait.

Trawlers not only scoop up entire schools, they also degrade the ocean bottom, and catch the bait fish which end up dead in the nets and thrown overboard - along with the dead undersized cod, haddock, and flounder.

The Bush administration, interestingly, has made some real progress towards unwinding some of the anti-conservation regulations in the Atlantic fisheries, but New England politics remains a factor: commercial fishing is "a way of life," despite the fact that it is now dominated by what you might call "Big Fishing." Bush has been a staunch conservationist about fishing in general, also here, most recently. This summer, he signed a bill creating the world's largest marine preserve.

I always have hoped that fish farming would ge a good solution. It's been successful in some ways in some areas - salmon, for instance, oysters and mussels. But problems with disease transmission sunk the cod farming attempts in Canada.

It may be far too late to rebuild the Atlantic fishing stocks. There is a tipping point at which restoration cannot occur. And it is a damn shame, because for us at Maggie's Farm, we care not only on conservation and stewardship grounds - we love to eat fish, and we love to go fishin'. We gain hope from the story of the Striped Bass, which is having a real resurgence since commercial fishing for them has been controlled.

I just finished a book, The Doryman's Reflection: A Fisherman's Life, by Paul Molyneaux. It's not a great book, but it gives a good flavor of what is going on from a guy who has seen the transition from the old to the new ways of fishing, and who understands the regulations, and the science too.

The concern about our fish is not wacky greenie hysteria, it's not crying wolf. It is as real as what happened to the Passenger Pigeon and the Buffalo. There is a role for government here (is that not shocking to hear from us libertarian-minded folks?), and it shouldn't cost the taxpayer a penny.

But, if done right, it will hurt the brave fishermen who daily risk their lives in the rugged and most dangerous occupation in the US. Sad, but necessary: these are not guys who could switch to an office job. The industry has succeeded beyond its ability to sustain itself.

The people have
spoken, and the
Dartmouth People's
Insurrection has won.

Power to the People!

Better check those Diebold machines   pieces of paper vote-counters  heck, there's gotta be a law suit in here somewhere.

One thing for sure: they don't dare call their voters ignorant morons morans!

Woops. I see we have two simultaneous posts on the same subject. Well, it deserves it. Good on us.

One of the few large Ice Age Pleistocene mammmals surviving in North America, and still in some parts of northern Europe, is the Musk Ox. I am always surprised to remember that there are Musk Oxen in Canada - they are rarely a subject of cocktail party conversation - unless you have the bad luck to be chatting with the dull and pedantic Bird Dog.

They are the Bison of the Tundra - but they are not bovines, despite their appearance and name. They are closer to goats.

Remarkably, there is a group in Alaska which is breeding them for domestication, which does seem 6000 years too late. A bit about these remarkable critters here.

Can they be hunted? Once you get up there, it's too much like shooting a cow in a pasture. The Eskimos kill them, though, but they kill anything, including seagulls.

The Stone Age did not end for lack of stone, and the Oil Age will end long before the world runs out of oil.

Sheikh Yamani (h/t, Anchor Rising)

Welcome to the Farm, all of you friendly visitors from RWNH. Check out ye olde blogge, and visit us again - we are unpredictable, and pretty good.

Everybody else is commenting on Kerry, and our editor wanted something from me, since he is my Senator (although I have never voted for him).

Let me begin by saying that I do not think that Kerry misspoke. I believe he said what he meant, regardless of whether it is what he was scripted to say.

Why do I think that? Because what he said is classic, typical Eastern lefty condescending elitist talk: I hear this kind of thing at every Cambridge cocktail party. It is completely normal talk in the Kerry's circles. And because he is still stuck in 1968.

But, just for the heck of it, let's be generous and give him the benefit of the doubt, and imagine that he made a non-Freudian slip of the tongue.

Say he made a little mistake of wording, but that can be a big mistake for politicians: they are not supposed to ever say what they really think.

And when they make a mistake, regardless of how it occurred, the right thing to do is to say that you goofed.

Everybody makes mistakes in life - mistakes of judgement, impulsivity, recklessness, fecklessness, foolishness, nervousness, over-emotionality, or sheer cussedness. But mistakes stick to a person when:

1. they crystallize something already felt about the person (eg Dukakis and the tank helmet, or Dean's scream).

2. the mistakes are so repetitive that it is clear that they are not anomalous, but personal characteristics (eg Clinton and Monica, or Mark Foley - remember him?).

3. they are mishandled in such a way as to make a smaller goof into a big mistake (eg Clinton and Monica). We recommend self-deprecating humor as the best way to go.

4. it's a key moment, like an election, (or in romance) when every little thing is scrutinized. (eg in a passionate moment with Bill, sighing "Oh, Carl, you're so...manly.")

Kerry's little slip had the misfortune of embodying all of the above.

Image above: Kerry at Yale, where his grades were worse than George Bush's. Believe me - neither of them could get into Yale today.

 Image: from AOL news.

(Editor's note: Dr. B emailed me this incomplete draft to look over, but I figured we'd post it due to timeliness. She can complete it at her leisure. I added the images.)

From a piece about the Michigan rust-belt economy at Polipundit:

So can you guess in which direction taxpayers are moving between these two states? Here are the U-Haul rates for a 26-ft truck on October 29, 2006 (an arbitrary date):
Detroit to Nashville: $1659.00
Nashville to Detroit: $295.00

Excellent summary of the current state of the ACLU at Tammy Bruce (h/t, Driscoll).

I know well that the ACLU was founded by communists, but it once had a worthy mission nonetheless. No longer. Now it's mission is to undermine America and to subvert freedom and tradition. It is astonishing to me that they get $ support from the US government: Chavez or Osama would be more likely sources.

The ACLU is just one of many non-profits which have been taken over by Leftists, to their detriment. We have written about the YWCA, Planned Parenthood, the World Council of Churches, and the UCC, but there are many more examples.

And in case you have never checked it out, Stop the ACLU website is always on their case.

WHATEVER YOU DO IS WRONG

When you sit in the blind awaiting the flight

Of the white-breasted northern sprig,

While they circle high and think to light,

And they look so close and big,

You whisper your pard, as you both crouch low,

“Now! – Don’t wait too long!”

You shoot – too far – and off they go;

Whatever you do is wrong!

 

Then you curse yourself for a fool greenhorn,

Your pride has had a blow;

Sullen you sit and smoke and mourn,

When – in comes a bunch, fair low!

You watch them circle ‘round and ‘round,

“Just let them work along!”

When – off they swing, southward bound;

Whatever you do is wrong!

 

And so, through life, a poor wretch tries

To do what he thinks is right,

To place his funds so that when he dies

His family’ll be sitting tight;

To raise the young with the best in mind,

And sometimes it works like a song,

But often he finds like the man in the blind,

Whatever you do is wrong!

 

Still, I think that the God who sits in His sky,

And watches each man in his blind,

When it comes time for the hunter to die,

Surely, He’ll keep in mind

That each tried to do what it seemed he ought,

And He’ll put us where we belong;

For He’ll understand the fellow that thought

Whatever he did was wrong!