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Thursday, 17 August 2006



Having lived near Lake Ontario in New York, San Diego in California, and currently on the Gulf Coast of Florida, I would wonder what world he lives in.

When you needed to fly overseas in San Diego, you drove out to Otay Mesa, parked your car, and stepped across the strand of barbed wire to get to the Tijuana airport in Mexico. It was much cheaper that flying from San Diego.

I understand that they have finally fenced that particular embarrassment by installing another border crossing, but someone should take Denny on an aerial survey of the Mexico-California border to show him why you can't build a fence.

The area around me has been a center for smuggling since white people showed up here. Booze, drugs, you name it, it has landed by boat in this area forever. We had German spies captured down here during WWII.

During his short-lived TV show, Michael Moore had a segment on US and Canadian farmers trying to locate the border between North Dakota and Canada. Apparently a fair number of the border markers have been plowed under by tractors.

These people live in Fantasyland.


Bryan: These people live in Fantasyland.

Indeed they do, and unfortunately for those of us that don't, (a) their fantasies are something right out of an acid trip experienced by the love child of Wes Craven and Stephen King, and (b) they're currently in a position to inflict those fantasies on the rest of us in the guise of national policy.

Sycamore, where I live now, was a fairly big stop on the Underground Railroad, back in the day. Galesburg, where I went to college, even more so--and both the city and my alma mater were founded by dyed-in-the-wool abolitionists. They counted on a porous border with Canada. It's probably a little firmer now than it was 150 years ago, but not by much.

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