Connecting the Dots - BP/Deepwater Horizon Disaster

July 6, 2012 - Connect the dots. When you view the news regarding the Gulf of Mexico this past month, you can't help but feel we're under a terrorist attack down here. The use of Corexit has been documented and seen from Louisiana to Florida. Including a large number of fish kills, and two newly reported stories regarding human health.

   THERE ARE FOUR PARTS TO THIS VIDEO


And here's a story of another fish kill in Miramar, Florida on July 18, 2012: 

THE FOLLOWING VIDEO WAS PROVIDED BY: Melissa Carter Neidert

Seascape Resort in Miramar Beach Florida. This was taken today at 7:00 pm. Over the past year we have lost our turtle population, then we watched our ducks disappear, and now our fish are dead!

Jesus Was A Tree Hugger Too

Whenever BP, or any other major establishment, such as insurance companies and drug manufactures, comes across a group of people, who speaks the truth, they shut them down by making them sound like a bunch of radicals, hippies and tree huggers. Or even terrorist, with some hidden agenda to overthrow the government. And these accusers, often hide behind a cross to make themselves appear to be righteous and beyond approach. But you know, Jesus was a tree hugger too.

Jesus had long hair, wore sandals, often spoke of love and peace, fished, hiked, and he pissed off the establishment (the Jewish High Priest) often. They eventually killed him, when they noticed Jesus, a Jew himself, was getting a little too popular. You could say, they labeled him a terrorist. The people who crucified him are the same kind of people that hide behind the cross today; the same evil hypocrites. I don't normally like to use the word evil, but how else can you describe these power hungry personalities that put money above life?

I have seen what BP has done to the Gulf Coast. I see the million dollar commercials they are airing, telling you all up North that the oil is gone, and it's safe to swim off our shores. It's not true. The oil is still here. I live here, and I have no reason to lie to you; I have nothing at stake, except pissing a bunch of money hungry people off, like the CEO's of the corporations, who own the hotels in the area (including Jimmy Fn' Buffett). Anyone who says it's safe for your children to be on the beaches in this area are not friends of Jesus. They're more concerned with what's in their wallet, than they are for you and your family.

I'm not the only one posting blogs, and photos, and videos. Put "BP oil spill" into any search engine (youtube for sure), and you'll see for yourself. Mississippi has got to be the worse, and the state line is only about an hours drive from here (Pensacola). They have dead dolphins and sea birds washing up daily. And it smells rank. None of us want to be burdened with the responsibility of tracking this sad mess. But the media isn't informing you of the dangers. So we sacrifice our health and well being with the hope of by keeping America informed, we can force BP to fix what they made wrong. And possibly stop this runaway madness for oil.

So call me a tree hugger or what you will. But I stand in front of that cross, not behind it.

The Crude Oil Adventure of the Human Re-Evolution

I recently wrote a short story regarding the BP Oil Spill, and how it has affected Pensacola Beach in particular.  As well as the morality of it all.  This past summer, after grieving for a year, I realized that sometimes bad things have to happen in order for there to be a greater good.  It's tragedies like 9/11, and the BP Oil Spill that deeply touches our hearts and motivates change in humanity as a whole.  With the year 2012 upon us, and the threat of mankind destroying itself, the book also addresses the spiritual evolution of the human condition, which will save us from destruction. 

Not only does my book include a historical account of the spill in regards to Pensacola Beach, but it's an inspirational piece as well.  It's also a story about nature and learning to heal ourselves as well as the planet.  It's not too late.  It is as easy as learning to control and direct our thoughts.  It's learning to believe in ourselves, and in others. 

This book is also interactive with my Youtube Channel:  www.youtube.com/user/WoMenHead101

AVAILABLE ON  Amazon.com

How Can You Miss The Shit?!

Last Tuesday evening I went to the Pensacola Beach with a small group of friends.  It's kind of a new ritual we have started amongst ourselves to help the Gulf heal from the oil spill.  Each of us collects water from the Gulf of Mexico, in a glass container, and we tape words/affirmations onto the glass, such as Love, Gratitude, and Heal.  Then we take it home and sit the glass container somewhere special and/or pretty and meditate on it here and there, until we meet again in a month.  Usually on or close to a full moon, and then we return the water to the Gulf again.

Anyway, I had just returned from a weeks trip to Ohio, so I grabbed my back pack, which just happened to have two cameras in it along with the other items I needed, and made my way to the beach to meet my friends.  I wasn't planning on video taping oil on the sand or Corexit in the water.  But low and behold, we're standing at the waters edge, collecting new water to take home, and I see this brown foamy crap right there on the shoreline not even five feet away from us.  This is like the fourth or fifth time I've collected water for the purpose of healing, and this time my water had a yellow tint to it, and the sand in the bottom of the container is brown (vs. white). 

I do not normally go to the touristy beach, known as Casino Beach, because I don't like being crowded.  But it seemed logical to go the pier to return the water we had collected four weeks before, instead of standing on beach, where the water comes ashore. Knowing this is the tourist spot, it is kind of scary when you think of all the people from around the country who came here and played in the sand and in the water.  I wonder how many people are walking around wondering why they don't feel well?  There doctors clueless, because they are not aware of the symptoms that accompany chemical exposure.  But that's not what my blog is about today.

Instead, it's about how easy it is to find oil on Pensacola Beach, especially after a good storm.   On March 5th, 2011, I recorded a video that showed a lot of dead sea life that had washed ashore after a blustery storm had passed through the Gulf.  And on Sept 3rd, 2011, while Tropical Storm Lee passed through, I recorded a thick oily substance all over the Casino Beach.  It was awful.  Both of those videos went somewhat viral and afforded me the option to become a YouTube partner.  That's how badly the beach looked!

And here we are on a calm day, Sept 13th, and this brown shit is floating along the shoreline.

Two days later, Celia and I go to the beach to chill for a minute.  Walk-out #27.  The temps are in the seventies, it's a beautiful day.  We set our chairs up, and Celia goes for a walk, and I sit there and take it all in for a minute.  And I swear, I don't know where it came from, but it begins to rain.  I rush to pack out stuff up, then Celia come along finishes, while I bee line it to the truck to shut the sunroof.  I know if we give it a minute, the rain will pass. And we decide to take a ride to pass the time.

So, we head toward National Seashores (Navarre).  And before we made it to the first parking lot, where you're allowed to pull off the road, I know we're going to turn around and take this trip again, because the sand looked that bad.  But when we made it to the parking lot, that's when I first grabbed my camera.  BP workers began pulling up into the parking lot.  And the area looked as bad as Casino Beach did when Lee splashed oil all over the place.  Immediately after pulling out of the parking lot in Nat'l Seashores, we spotted an area on the sound side of the road, where water had collected in between the dunes, and the sand was brown all the way around it.  Then after doing a second drive-by from Pensacola Beach through Nat'l Seashores, we went to Casino Beach. 

Casino Beach had little tide pools all up and down the beach.  Out of the two we investigated, one looked really trashed.  A sea gull was sitting in it.  When he seen me hesitate, he began squawking and looked up to the sky, then back down to the water.  He splashed at it with his beak, as if to say, "Hey, come look at this shit!" 

So I did.  There's some kind of black shit along the edge of this tide pool.  And there's thick brown bubbly crap as well.  And I know that birds going to die.  There are three other birds sitting on the beach with there legs folded below them, who do look sick.  And there's people everywhere playing in the tide pools and digging in the sand.  And for the first time, I said something to a couple who was sitting in black sand, "Do you know you're sitting in oil?!"  I said it so matter of factly, like how could you miss it idiot, that the dude looked at me like what?  You didn't just say, what I thought you said, did you? 

Surprised at my own words, I said nothing more and walked away.

SEPTEMBER 03, 2011 - TROPICAL STORM LEE - PENSACOLA, FL

SEPTEMBER 13, 2011

SEPTEMBER 15, 2011 - PENSACOLA BEACH & NAT'L SEASHORES

The Denial Disease

Wikipedia actually has a page dedicated to, “Denial.” The simple definition of denial is the disbelief in the existence or reality of a thing (like oil). Kind of reminds me of that Shaggy song, where he got caught butt naked, banging the girl next door, on the bathroom floor. But he continues to stick to his story, by constantly repeating, “It wasn’t me,” to his girlfriend.

A second type of denial is minimisation. That’s where one might admit a fact, but deny the seriousness.  The third is a the kind of denial where the subject admits both the fact and serousness of a given situation, but denies the responsibility, called projection. Thus, denial is a negative characteristic.

Addicts are a consequence of denial. It plays an important role in recovery, via the twelve-step program. And the American Heart Association blames the delayed treatment of heart attacks on denial. Furthermore, the first of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grieving is denial; then anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. So you see, even victims are not immune to the disease of denial.

But when your self-preserving denial begins to cost innocent people their health - I call it lying! What happened to the Gulf of Mexico hinders on the unforgivable. Not simply because it happened, but because of how the general population behaved afterwards. They were way more concerned with how many tourist weren’t on the beach, instead of how many were on the beach. The oil spill itself tore apart at my very soul; the beach stank, it was gnarly, and there was nothing natural about it. I have lived the five stages of the grieving process. Moving well past denial and into acceptance.

Fact: the oil is still here. It is not safe to swim in Gulf, due to the dousing of toxic dispersants, as well as Corexit. Where there is oil, there is a lethal dispersant of some sort. That’s what makes the oil sink.  There are oil matts along the shoreline of the Gulf Coast. And there are toxic pockets throughout Pensacola Bay, as reported by Marine Biologist, Heather Reed to The Pensacola League of Women Voters, on May 7, 2011. Although there are different types of crude and a variety of toxicities attached to each, what Heather Reed describes coincides with what Dr. Riki Ott (Exxon Valdez Spill in Alaska) describes in her book, Sound Truth and Corporate Myth$, at page 243: “Without oxygen, the oil had not weathered and it still contained measurable levels of PAHs - over four parts per million in the mussel tissues and ten times that in the underlying sediments.”

Ott also warns the word “Weathered,” is often used, by the industry, to downplay the toxicity of oil that is still harmful. And as I mentioned in my blog before, Dr. Ott reported the highest concentrations of PAHs were found, “at the waters edge at the lowest reach of the tides,” adding, “the residual oil in the intertidal sediments was potent enough to kill test animals for two years” (at page 195).

Now tell me, with the “Facts,” that I just presented to you, do you truly believe it’s safe to swim along our coast line here in Pensacola? It seems to me, if you support tourism in this area of the Gulf, and you continue to tell people it’s ok to eat the fish, and swim our waters, or sit silently by and allow this sick behavior of greed to continue, then you are contributing to the deaths of thousands of people, and you are no different than the Germans who allowed Hitler to rule.

Be Real! You live with dis-ease when you deny, lie and pretend. Only when we accept the truth can we begin to heal ourselves, as well as the Gulf of Mexico. The truth being, she needs our help, not our denial.

VIDEO POSTED MAY 7, 2011:

Black Oil Sand Dollars

On June 7th, the Pensacola News Journal reported that a large number of sand dollars were washing up from the sound side at Ft. Pikens. On June 18th, we went out to investigate further and found hundreds of BLACK and broken sand dollars. Sand dollars are suppose to dry out white. These were long dead and had been sitting in the sun for quite a while, but they were black. I believe this phenomena supports Marine Biologist, Heather Reeds statement earlier this year, on May 7th, when she told the League of Women Voters that there were toxic pockets of curde oil in the Pensacola Pass as well as in the bay/sound areas.

Links to this story include:
All These Sand Dollars Don't Add Up - PNJ
Black Oil Sand Dollars on Pensacola Beach

Riki Ott Speaks to the League of Women Voters

Pensacola Beach, A.B. (After BP)

The beach is like a living being. Some parts are more favored than others. Over the years I’ve drifted from one spot to another along the eastern part of Pensacola Beach. East of Portofino Towers that is. I prefer the natural beauty over the family/tourist oriented areas. Before Ivan, it was beach number nine; the Gay and Lesbian beach along the National Seashores. There were no porta-pots to pee in. So we use to open the car door, and another person would hold a towel across the open area of the door, so you could take a squat, without anyone seeing you drop your shorts. That’s when I discovered that most people peed in the water. Even the dudes. I never understood that. Why pee all over yourself and pollute this gorgeous water we were all playing in? Then again, the parking lot began to smell like urine it baked in the hot sun.

Then Hurricane Ivan came and wiped the road out to Navarre. Our new little home on the beach became the double parking lot area that actually had a bathroom and shower area, as well as life guard station. It was the last parking lot, before the road turned to sand. We dug gigantic holes in the sand, while looking for shells. We hit the mother load that year. Eventually we started pulling into the smaller of the two parking lots, and taking either of the two walk out that lead out onto the beach. What’s known as walk-out number thirty today is the beach that Celia and I were married on. I look back on those photos now and think, what a gorgeous afternoon. Most certainly, we were standing before God, barefoot on sacred ground. The sand was so white. I wonder if I’ll ever see it that pure again?

The last couple of years, before the BP Oil Spill, we found ourselves worshiping heaven on, what’s know today as, walk-out number 27. All along eastern area of the Pensacola beach, I have left little gifts and mementoes to honor this endless wonderment of creation. Sometime at the end of February, or the first of March 2010, we stepped out onto the beach, and something didn’t feel right. I was so afraid they had done something to the water. Celia kept telling me, no it’s just the way it looks today. Which was a logical conclusion, if you’re a person who relies only on your sight. The water was rough, so it wasn’t unusual for the surf to look dark, like reservoir water. When we left that afternoon, I remember thinking, I hope she’s right. But I could not dismiss the sadness that tore at my gut.

So, I took the feathers that I collected from the beach, and added them to a piece of palm that I had decorated and burned symbols to. And on Palm Sunday, I took it to the beach and said my prayers. I asked that the beach be protected from harm, as well as the people who visit here. Thinking along the lines of a possible hurricane, not knowing at the time that I was praying for protection against the biggest oil spill in American history.

Even now when I think back on my little piece of heaven splattered black like a slow creeping cancer, my tears I can not hide. “Yes, it could have been worse.” This is what we say down here, as if the words were a mandated prescription that cures. Still, another summer will come to pass, and again I will find myself disenchanted at the poison that lurks in the beauty that lays before me. Another stolen season of fresh shrimp and oysters sizzling on the grill, with interludes of fresh salted kisses from the Gulf, as the white caps softly brush upon my face. I miss rolling in the waves like a child being tickled. And like a mother caring for her child there were times when she healed me. Now I pray that she heals. And some day she will.

But right now, the Gulf is still being raped. There are over 3, 858 gas and oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico alone. You drive along the Mississippi and Louisiana coast lines, and it looks like a third world country.  Shipyards and pollution scattered all up and down their shores, like they have no pride. These are the poorest states in America, and the oil cartel uses this to their advantage. And every American should be concerned, because this our land. It belongs to us. All of us. I’m not writing this blog for me; I’ll be 48 years old. I’m writing for you and your children, and the generations to come. Contact Congress.  Even if it’s a representative of a state other than your own. Let them know your aware of what’s going on down here, and you don’t like it. We have to get these oil companies out of the Gulf! It’s not impossible. I don’t buy it for a minute.