American Southwest Quotes

All forests have their own personality. I don't just mean the obvious differences, like how an English woodland is different from a Central American rain forest, or comparing tracts of West Coast redwoods to the saguaro forests of the American Southwest... they each have their own gossip, their own sound, their own rustling whispers and smells. A voice speaks up when you enter their acres that can't be mistaken for one you'd hear anyplace else, a voice true to those particular tress, individual rather than of their species.

Somebody had tipped the American continent like a pinball machine and all the goofballs had come rolling to LA in the southwest corner. I cried for all of us. There was no end to the American sadness and the American madness. Someday we'll all start laughing and roll on the ground when we realize how funny it's been.

The American Southwest is nature's surrealist masterpiece.

When You Have Forgotten Sunday: The Love Story -- And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday, And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday -- When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed, Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon Looking off down the long street To nowhere, Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation And nothing-I-have-to-do and I’m-happy-why? And if-Monday-never-had-to-come— When you have forgotten that, I say, And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell, And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang; And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner, That is to say, went across the front room floor to the ink-spotted table in the southwest corner To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles Or chicken and rice And salad and rye bread and tea And chocolate chip cookies -- I say, when you have forgotten that, When you have forgotten my little presentiment That the war would be over before they got to you; And how we finally undressed and whipped out the light and flowed into bed, And lay loose-limbed for a moment in the week-end Bright bedclothes, Then gently folded into each other— When you have, I say, forgotten all that, Then you may tell, Then I may believe You have forgotten me well.

I grew up in motion. I have never lived outside the Southwest, yet in my childhood I rarely had the same home or lived in the same state for more than a year or two at a time. Well before adulthood I believed that all was right with the world only when I was standing at the brink of every possibility, a voyage not yet taken unraveling before me.

There are no new stories in nature, only new observers.

It is a spectacular illusion – a deeply three-dimensional scene flattened onto an earthly canvas.

Fred Rice, gunslinger, badest hombre ever to grace the American Southwest desert since Pancho Villa.

Stepping out onto any lookout, you are invited to connect with an amazing example of some of the most unusual terrain on this planet, making you feel as though you are stepping foot on the edge of another world.

Each of the three cultures in New Mexico during the mid-1800s (Caucasian, Hispanic, and Native American) were actively involved in kidnapping each other. As competition and fighting occurred between the three races, cruelty and violence were rampant on all sides. Yet, some captives found kindness among their captors.

He had seen the same mixture of exhaustion and fight in Russell’s face. It was the poison of war spreading its sickness.

Big Bend National Park is intensely wild and extraordinarily beautiful – tucked away at the end of a couple of roads in southwest Texas.

Abandoned by the Spanish, thousands of mustangs ran wild into the open plains that resembled so closely their ancestral Iberian lands. Because they were so perfectly adapted to the new land, they thrived and multiplied. They became the foundation stock for the great wild mustang herds of the Southwest. This event has become known as the Great Horse Dispersal.

In the Mexican War, a skirmish between Mexican and American troops on the Texas-Mexico border led President Polk to state that “American blood has been shed on American soil,” and to ask Congress for war. Actually, the encounter took place in disputed territory, and Polk’s diary shows that he wanted an excuse for war so the United States could take from Mexico what the United States coveted, California and the whole Southwest.

Crazy Horse was a new kind of leader to emerge after the Civil War, at the beginning of the army’s wars of annihilation in the northern plains and the Southwest. Born in 1842 in the shadow of the sacred Paha Sapa (Black Hills), he was considered special, a quiet and brooding child. Already the effects of colonialism were present among his people, particularly alcoholism and missionary influence. Crazy Horse became a part of the Akicita, a traditional Sioux society that kept order in villages and during migrations. It also had authority to make certain that the hereditary chiefs were doing their duty and dealt harshly with those who did not.

The Diné are children of the sun. They are rugged and graceful people. They love the radiance of color and silver, the purity of nature, and the speed of horses. They have a gift for adaptation and creativity. They do everything with spontaneity and flair.

When the longhorns could be gathered up and driven, it was theorized that the heat from the herd's mass attracted lightning. (Such was the radiant heat from a large herd that a cowboy's face would be blistered on whichever side of the herd he'd ridden by the day's end.) Their great horns also seemed to attract electricity, so that lightning and ground-electricity would bounce around from horn to horn throughout the herd - a phantasmagoric burning blue circuitry. The cracking of the cowboy's whips and the twitching of the cattle's tails also emitted sparkling "snakes of fire.

Aztlán (“The Place of the Reeds”) was the traditional home of the Aztecs, a possibly mythical motherland from which the tribe ventured forth on a one-hundred-year walk. It was a land to the north of Mexico City. Chicanos recognize Aztlán as being in the American southwest, and it came to represent the stomping ground of “La Chicanada,” or the entirety of the Hispanic west. The Aztecs (Mexica, pronounced “Meshica,” hence, “Chicano”) walked south, out of the deserts, on their way to what would become Mexico City. They apparently walked across the Devil’s Highway on their way home.

One day during his time in the Southwest, Leopold and several companions chanced upon a female wolf ans shot her. "We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes --something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters' paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view.

They were destroyed for the same reason the pots found in the Cave of the Glowing Skulls had been ritually “killed”; ancient people engaged in this ceremonial destruction at gravesites so that objects could journey with the deceased to the afterworld. This was true not just of pots and artifacts, but also involved the ritual destruction of sacred buildings, and even roads. In the American Southwest, for example, parts of the great Anasazi road system and its way stations were closed in the thirteenth century by burning brush and smashing sacred pots along its length, when the ancestral Pueblo people abandoned the region.

Whatever the reasoning, a neglected resident dog on a chain is more likely to become mentally frustrated from lack of exercise and fearful of strangers because it cannot flee to defend itself, while other people, dogs, and/or wildlife are free to approach, taunt, or harm it (in the Southwest, chained dogs are often called “coyote bait

One small cloud had passed while we were out walking earlier in the day. It had dragged a quarter acre of shade across the desert, and we had set off chasing it, sprinting to catch up so we could get under its shade. Before we got there, the cloud lifted its skirt and sailed off, evaporating into nothing. We were left empty-handed, my oiled hat brim wilted in the sun.

Around the same time that Goldwater lost his bid for the presidency, the TV evangelicals Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell joined the libertarian, far-right wing of the Republican Party. They called for free markets and cited Hayek and Friedman to protest government bureaucrats, while also issuing daily denunciations of rock music, homosexuals, abortion, civil rights, and pornography. Hard-right evangelicals were among the most influential leaders of the new free-market movement. The Republican Party became an ideological mix of the mainline northeastern establishment, American Baptist puritanism, racism and bigotry, and a Friedmanesque and American Southwest individualist libertarianism and permissiveness—all held together by a near-religious reverence for the multinational conglomerate firm and the sanctity of capital-holding shareholders.

higher Jurisdiction.” As for slavery, he thought it “an outrage upon the goodness of God.” One difference between then—so foreign to us—and now is the extent to which Christians actually believed in the Christian God. Where our politicians oscillate between hypocrisy and bigoted religiosity, they had, for better or worse, religion, something that takes a lot of Einfühlen for us to grasp. Needless to say, in 1846 J.Q.A. found morally reprehensible the American invasion of Mexico that would give us the Southwest and California.

Some of these Marines learned what they know on Guadalcanal, a basically useless island in the Southwest Pacific where the Empire of Nippon and the United States of America are disputing—with rifles—each other’s right to build a military airbase. Early returns suggest that the Nipponese Army, during its extended tour of East Asia, has lost its edge. It would appear that raping the entire female population of Nanjing, and bayoneting helpless Filipino villagers, does not translate into actual military competence. The Nipponese Army is still trying to work out some way to kill, say, a hundred American Marines without losing, say, five hundred of its own soldiers.

Without in any way diminishing the horror on the Holocaust, to a certain extent we can understand Nazism as European colonialism and imperialism brought home. The decimation of the indigenous populations of the Americas and Australia, the tens of millions who died of famine in India under British rule, the ten million killed by Belgian king Leopold's Congo Free State, and the horrors of transatlantic slavery are but a sliver of the mass death and societal decimation wrought by European powers prior to the rise of Hitler. Early concentration camps (known as "reservations") were set up by the American government to imprison indigenous populations, by the Spanish monarchy to contain Cuban revolutionaries in the 1890s, and by the British during the Boer War at the turn of the century. Well before the Holocaust, the German government had committed genocide against Herero and Nama people of southwest Africa through the use of concentration camps and other methods between 1904 and 1907.

If you ever hear the words conventional and wisdom conjoined, reject them. Because if it is conventional, it isn’t wisdom. And if it’s wisdom, it isn’t conventional. —Herb Kelleher How has Southwest been able to attain uncommon results in the worst industry in capitalism? The company has succeeded by being unconventional. Herb likes to tell the story of how a Washington think tank told the company that it would not be able to survive without six of the “keys to success” that other carriers have used. Southwest followed none of those keys to success. At every point of Southwest’s history, the company has successfully challenged industry norms. Southwest differed from the competition because of its low-cost fares. In the 1970s, before deregulation, flying was expensive, because the government controlled the prices. Rollin King and Herb Kelleher’s idea was to provide lower fares and enable a greater number of Americans to fly. Southwest would not be competing with other airlines but with other forms of transportation.

This bold energetic man of rare intelligence and enterprise must also be understood as a man undone by his own deep flaws. He was known to drink to grievous excess, for example, which often turned him volatile and violent. On the other hand, his evil repute has been wildly exaggerated by careless journalists and their local informants, who seek to embellish their limited acquaintance with a “desperado”; with the result that the real man has been virtually entombed by tale and legend which since his death has petrified as myth. The most lurid view of Mr. Watson is the one perpetuated by the Islanders themselves, for as Dickens observed after his visit to this country, “These Americans do love a scoundrel.” Because his informants tend to imagine that the darkest interpretation is the one the writer wishes to hear, the popular accounts (until now, there have been no others) are invariably sensational as well as speculative: the hard facts, not to speak of “truth,” are missing. Also, this “Bloody Watson” material relates only to his final years in southwest Florida; one rarely encounters any reference to South Carolina, where Edgar Artemas Watson passed his boyhood, nor to the years in the Indian Country (always excepting his alleged role in the slaying of Belle Starr), nor even to the Fort White district of Columbia County in north Florida where he farmed in early manhood, married all three of his wives, and spent almost half of the fifty-five years of his life.

One of the Pima warriors on seeing the fire-arms used by the white soldiers, thought that the next time he went over to the [Maricopa] Wells, he would take his war weapons along and show them to the white soldiers. So the next time he went, he took along his war-club and shield. The soldiers on seeing his weapons, laughed and made all sorts of remarks as to the effective use of such weapons. The joking went on until the Pima made a challenge to the white man. He said: 'You, white warrior Take shooting iron. Stand here ready. I take war club and shield, Step off ten paces, Turn around, come back. If you see any part of me, Shoot!' The White soldier stood there with gun in hand while the Pima walked away ten paces, turned around and came back hiding behind the shield so well that no part of his body could be seen. The white soldier did not shoot as the Pima came up to him. With the edge of his shield the Pima knocked the gun out of the soldier's hand. He lifted his war club as if he was about to use it. But the soldier took to his heels and ran into a nearby house, closing the door after him. The people who saw this had a good laugh and no such challenge was ever made again. Sometimes there would be shooting contests between Pimas and whites, Pimas with their bows and arrows and the whites with their firearms. They would place a target at different distances and see who could hit the bull's eye. The Pimas often won the match. They often won prizes of a pair of Army pants or a coat. At other times, foot races were held at the Post. The Pimas always won the long distance races, but lost the short dashes. [page 40, Early Days]

Franklin also combined science and mechanical practicality by devising the first urinary catheter used in America, which was a modification of a European invention. His brother John in Boston was gravely ill and wrote Franklin of his desire for a flexible tube to help him urinate. Franklin came up with a design, and instead of simply describing it he went to a Philadelphia silversmith and oversaw its construction. The tube was thin enough to be flexible, and Franklin included a wire that could be stuck inside to stiffen it while it was inserted and then be gradually withdrawn as the tube reached the point where it needed to bend. His catheter also had a screw component that allowed it to be inserted by turning, and he made it collapsible so that it would be easier to withdraw. “Experience is necessary for the right using of all new tools or instruments, and that will perhaps suggest some improvements,” Franklin told his brother. The study of nature also continued to interest Franklin. Among his most noteworthy discoveries was that the big East Coast storms known as northeasters, whose winds come from the northeast, actually move in the opposite direction from their winds, traveling up the coast from the south. On the evening of October 21, 1743, Franklin looked forward to observing a lunar eclipse he knew was to occur at 8:30. A violent storm, however, hit Philadelphia and blackened the sky. Over the next few weeks, he read accounts of how the storm caused damage from Virginia to Boston. “But what surprised me,” he later told his friend Jared Eliot, “was to find in the Boston newspapers an account of the observation of that eclipse.” So Franklin wrote his brother in Boston, who confirmed that the storm did not hit until an hour after the eclipse was finished. Further inquiries into the timing of this and other storms up and down the coast led him to “the very singular opinion,” he told Eliot, “that, though the course of the wind is from the northeast to the southwest, yet the course of the storm is from the southwest to the northeast.” He further surmised, correctly, that rising air heated in the south created low-pressure systems that drew winds from the north. More than 150 years later, the great scholar William Morris Davis proclaimed, “With this began the science of weather prediction.”4 Dozens of other scientific phenomena also engaged Franklin’s interest during this period. For example, he exchanged letters with his friend Cadwallader Colden on comets, the circulation of blood, perspiration, inertia, and the earth’s rotation. But it was a parlor-trick show in 1743 that launched him on what would be by far his most celebrated scientific endeavor. ELECTRICITY On a visit to Boston in the summer of 1743, Franklin happened to be entertained one evening by

Washington Dulles: American 77. Hundreds of miles southwest of Boston, at Dulles International Airport in the Virginia suburbs of Washington, D.C., five more men were preparing to take their early morning flight.At 7:15

The particular no-duty-to-retreat walkdown that occurred in the public square of the remote southwest Missouri town of Springfield in July 1865 received national publicity, and in its aftermath the duty to retreat became a legal issue. Whether or not it was actually the first walkdown, the gunfight in Springfield was the effective beginning of the walkdown tradition, for it was the first to receive wide public recognition as such._,i In this case, the victorious gunfighter was Eisenhower's fondly remembered hero, Wild Bill Hickok.

Minutes later,United 175 turned southwest without clearance from air traffic control. At 8:47, seconds after the impact of American 11, United 175’s transponder code changed, and then changed again.These changes were not noticed for several minutes, however, because the same New York Center controller was assigned to both American 11 and United 175. The controller knew American 11 was

Twelve years ago I left Boston and New York, and moved east and west at the same time. East, to a little village in Devon, England, a town I’ve been familiar with for years, since my friends Brian and Wendy Froud and Alan Lee all live there. It had long been my dream to live in England, so I finally bought a little old cottage over there. But I decided, both for visa and health reasons, living there half the year would be better than trying to cope with cold, wet Dartmoor winters. At that point, Beth Meacham had moved out to Arizona, and I discovered how wonderful the Southwest is, particularly in the wintertime. Now I spend every winter-spring in Tucson and every summer-autumn in England. Both places strongly affect my writing and my painting. They’re very opposite landscapes, and each has a very different mythic history. In Tucson, the population is a mix of Native Americans, Mexican Americans, and Euro-Americans of various immigrant backgrounds — so the folklore of the place is a mix of all those things, as well as the music and the architecture. The desert has its own colors, light, and rhythms. In Devon, by contrast, it’s all Celtic and green and leafy, and the color palette of the place comes straight out of old English paintings — which is more familiar to me, growing up loving the Pre-Raphaelites and England’s ‘Golden Age’ illustrators. I’ve learned to love an entirely different palette in Arizona, where the starkness of the desert is offset by the brilliance of the light, the cactus in bloom, and the wild colors of Mexican decor.

President Grover Cleveland proposed to execute Geronimo, but he and his band of Chiricahua Apache—men, women, and children alike—were taken by train to Florida from their native Southwest and spent more than two decades as prisoners of war.

Larry Wells, at Brigham Young University, hit upon the idea of delivering the birds by air. In what has to be one of the most spectacularly woozy malfunctions ever to happen in the skies above the American Southwest, he found to his horror that when you toss Rhode Island Reds out of a small plane, well, let’s just say the windblast hammers them in the most awful way, leaving lifeless chicken bodies scattered about the sagebrush.

The attempt to establish a camel corps in the United States in the middle of the nineteenth century was a failure, however.11 At the onset of the Civil War, the camels were released to fend for themselves in a feral state. Somewhat surprisingly, given the amazing adaptations of dromedaries to arid conditions, the feral camels eventually died out in the American Southwest.

After some pondering, I made a decision that would affect all of my future work and writing in more ways than I could ever have anticipated. It was a decision between seminary and college teaching. More so it was a decision between two very different cultures of New England and the Southwest. I chose seminary teaching in Texas, which was a decision some of my colleague on the East Coast thought was foolish. From then on, as long as I was in the Southwest, I would feel the sting of the silent condescension and stereo typing by Eastern elites who disdained southwestern American culture. Many viewed as inconsequential everything that happened west of the Hudson River. What they disparaged was exactly what I loved, the easy going, unpretentious, common culture of my native landscape in Oklahoma and Texas.

One of the first things to understand was how people knew what language to speak to whom. Where I've lived in the American Southwest, choosing to speak English or Spanish based on how someone looks is risky. If you try English and they don't speak it, you can switch to Spanish if you know it. But if you start with Spanish, you might offend: 'You don't think I speak English?' This can be the case if you're Anglo, even if you speak Spanish very well and just heard the other person speaking Spanish. When I described such an scenario to Indians, they couldn't relate — to them, choosing the wrong language wasn't embarrassing or politically charged. Or so they said.

Norman Cousins, author of Anatomy of an Illness and The Healing Heart, divides the human race into “positive” and “negative” people: The positive people work miracles, accounting for the evolution of human performance. I add another division, productive and nonproductive people: those who can do things and those who only talk about things (especially talk about why they can’t do things). As far back as I can remember, I was determined to contribute something, to be productive, and I’ve always questioned those who—though they may know much—go through life without making a mental contribution to the species: “If I live, I ought to speak my mind.” Productive people have a love affair with time, with all of love’s ups and downs. They get more from time than others, seem to know how to use time much better than nonproductive people—so much so that they can waste immense quantities of time and still be enormously creative and productive. One of my favorite examples is John Peabody Harrington, the great anthropologist of the American Southwest. At the time of his death, Harrington’s field notes filled a basement of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., and several rented warehouses in the Washington suburbs were needed for the overflow. Yet Carobeth Laird, his wife and Harrington’s biographer, called him one of the greatest wasters of time she’d ever known—and said he felt the same way about himself.

Slaves also could often be seen herded across the National Mall, some heading to Alexandria, Virginia, for sale and others toward the slave pens and markets that quickly sprang up around the edges of the Mall. While slave markets and pens were scattered all around the District of Columbia—including near the White House (Lafayette Tavern on F Street between Thirteenth and Fourteenth NW near the White House) and in Georgetown (McCandless Tavern near the southwest corner of Wisconsin Avenue and M Street NW)—the best known were located near or on the National Mall.

Georgia O’Keeffe, the famous artist from the American Southwest, expressed this same courageous attitude toward fear in another way: “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life, and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do.

The faint glimmers from those S-type loonshots were dwarfed by the decade’s most glamorous P-type loonshot: the 747 jumbo-jet airliner. Until deregulation. Small changes that improved efficiency and lowered costs—not glamorous, kind of boring—suddenly became the key to survival. Those S-type loonshots, nurtured by startups like Southwest or major carriers like Bob Crandall’s American, spread quickly through the industry. They annihilated every unprepared airline.

The irony is that the exaggerations and speculations of Europeans are known as surrealism> while Latin Americans and Latinos are designated simply as "primitives," "exotics," or imitators of European reality, to be judged in a special category. (Shirfa M. Goldman wrote this essay for Santa Barrasza: Artist of the Southwest.)

The ruins of Chief Azul's house can still be seen to the right as your enter the town of Sacaton from the north--a two story structure with the roof fallen in. In front, across the road to the south is a monument which was put up in memory of the first Indian killed in World War One who was a Pima Indian from our tribe. [page 51, Progress]

As the Hispanic population surges past 50%, Spanish will replace English as the dominant language. New waves of Mexican immigrants won’t have to learn English to work or collect welfare, so they won’t bother to. Thus, they will not be assimilated into American society as previous Mexican immigrants have been. Demographics and affirmative action will purge the Anglos out of police departments and other branches of local government. Bilingualism will increasingly be mandatory for both government and private employment. Eventually, a working knowledge of English will not be a requirement for government employment at all. Eventually, Anglo citizens who speak only English will be hard pressed to obtain any government employment or services. The southwest will be transformed into a Spanish-speaking, de facto province of Mexico. Enforcement of immigration laws by Hispanic-controlled police departments will disappear entirely. Some Hispanic-controlled police departments will publicly announce their defiant refusal to enforce immigration laws. Millions of desperate, poverty-stricken Mexicans will stream across the border.

Great second book in Arthur Nakai Mystery Series. Love Mark Edward Langley's writing style. Vivid descriptions of people and places in the story help the reader understand the American Southwest and the harsh life on the Indian Reservations in New Mexico. The story line was very interesting and touched on issues effecting the people on the reservations and returning Marines dealing with life after combat. If you haven't read his first book, I highly recommend reading it first. You will enjoy his latest that much more. Highly recommend this series. So happy to see there will be a third book.

Hackworth hesitated. “Pardon me, but not precisely, sir. Folklore consists of certain universal ideas that have been mapped onto local cultures. For example, many cultures have a Trickster figure, so the Trickster may be deemed a universal; but he appears in different guises, each appropriate to a particular culture's environment. The Indians of the American Southwest called him Coyote, those of the Pacific Coast called him Raven. Europeans called him Reynard the Fox. African-Americans called him Br'er Rabbit. In twentieth-century literature he appears first as Bugs Bunny and then as the Hacker.

Midwestern farmers bred the horses the city required—haphazardly at first, but with increasing expertise at selective improvement as the century advanced. By far the most popular workhorse in the United States was the Percheron, a breed that originated in the Perche region of France, about fifty miles southwest of Paris. Although it was long claimed that the Percheron breed was shaped in the Middle Ages when native Perche mares were bred with Arabian stallions brought back from the Crusades, no evidence other than oral tradition supports the claim. Some archeological evidence identifies the type as having Neolithic antecedents.8 All modern Percheron bloodlines trace to a warhorse named Jean Le Blanc, foaled in Le Perche in 1823 when Perche breeders were breeding a heavier horse for the American trade.

Juniper holds a very special place in the minds of native peoples, Hispanics, and other multigenerational residents of the Southwest community. It is tough and resilient, with many practical and sacred uses. It shows up in several American Indian origin stories and has even been used as an analogy explaining why American Indian peoples will always occupy this arid landscape. “Indians are like the juniper tree. Our roots are deep and strong. When the next big wind comes across the land, we will still be standing.

To the west of the Great Plains were the Rocky Mountains. The caretakers of the elevations and valleys of the Rockies and the Intermountain West were the Ute, Arapaho, Crow, Flathead, Shoshone, Jicarilla Apache, and Nez Perce. Their origin stories include morals that suggest they were chosen to occupy their mountainous environments in order to protect them. The people of the mountains were few in number but developed lifestyles that took advantage of what was offered by the seasons as well as by the different elevations. They knew how to use the different kinds of aspen, piñon, cedar, and dogwood for medicine, food, and for building shelter. They often stayed in the lower elevations in order to take advantage of mountain mahogany, chokecherry, currant, nahavita, and all the Rocky Mountain plants that have adapted to cold winters, short summers, and high elevations. They traveled east onto the plains in order to hunt buffalo and traded for foods with their Pueblo neighbors to the southwest.

American Indians, making up but 1 percent of the incarcerated, are overrepresented in many of the state prisons of North, Northwest, West, and Southwest U.S. This can be dramatized by comparing the percentage of American Indians in state prisons to American Indians’ percentage of population in the states that imprison them. For example, 38 percent of Alaska’s incarcerated are American Indian, while only 15 percent of Alaska’s population is American Indian. Montana’s prison population runs at 22 percent American Indian, North Dakota’s and South Dakota’s at 29 percent, while in all these states American Indians make up only 5-9 percent of these states’ populations. Similar over-representation is found in several other states.

Early histories have often overstated the degree of intelligence detail available to the Americans at this stage. Fletcher rightly expected the Japanese carriers to be split into two strike forces, and that they would approach from the west or north, but he would later need to respond to a single carrier group approaching from the southwest. For their part, the Japanese knew that the American heavy units were not at Pearl Harbor, but it seems likely that Nagumo was not given specific confirmation of this.

the Asian War Complex, appeared in Alaska. It spread rapidly through the continent—east to Greenland and south to California and the American southwest. The central innovation of the package was the recurved bow, backed with sinew. This was a much more powerful weapon than the wooden self bow already known to the Native Americans, and came with body armor often made from slats of wood or bone. Clearly, it wasn’t just a hunting tool: it was used for war. Indeed, the appearance of the Asian War Complex in an area is usually followed by signs of intense warfare, such as a profusion of barbed bone arrowheads found embedded in human vertebrae.21

Ippiki Ookami (Ee-pee-kee Ohh-kah-me) Japan’s Lone Wolves Some years ago in Osaka, I was introduced to a young Japanese entrepreneur who had established a small chain of shops selling cowboy clothing and accessories imported from the American southwest. When we exchanged name cards, I was immensely amused to note that he had replaced his Japanese name with “Lone Wolf.” I asked the young man if that was in fact his name, and he assured me it was, and that he not only used it in his business contacts, but that his friends also called him “Lone Wolf.” I didn’t have to ask him why he had chosen this popular American term as his name. I knew that it was a total repudiation of all of the attitudes and customs making up the traditional Japanese way, and represented everything he wanted to be.

And to say that the citizens of those rival domains did not always see eye to eye was a bit of an understatement, because each represented the antithesis of the other’s deepest values. To the engineers and the technicians who belonged to the world of the dam, Glen was no dead monolith but, rather, a living and breathing thing, a creature that pulsed with energy and dynamism. Perhaps even more important, the dam was also a triumphant capstone of human ingenuity, the culmination of a civil-engineering lineage that had seen its first florescence in the irrigation canals of ancient Mesopotamia and China, then shot like a bold arrow through the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, and the Industrial Revolution to reach its zenith here in the sun-scorched wastelands of the American Southwest. Glen embodied the glittering inspiration and the tenacious drive of the American century—a spirit that in other contexts had been responsible for harnessing the atom and putting men on the moon. As impressive as those other accomplishments may have been, nothing excelled the nobility of transforming one of the harshest deserts on earth into a vibrant garden. In the minds of its engineers and its managers, Glen affirmed everything that was right about America. To Kenton Grua and the river folk who inhabited the world of the canyon, however, the dam was an offense against nature. Thanks to Glen and a host of similar Reclamation projects along the Colorado, one of the greatest rivers in the West, had been reduced to little more than a giant plumbing system, a network of pipes and faucets and catchment tubs whose chief purpose lay in the dubious goal of bringing golf courses to Phoenix, swimming pools to Tucson, and air-conditioned shopping malls to Vegas. A magnificent waterway had been sacrificed on the altar of a technology that enabled people to prosper without limits, without balance, without any connection to the environment in which they lived—and in the process, fostered the delusion that the desert had been conquered. But in the eyes of the river folk, even that wasn’t the real cost. To

Whatever archive or courthouse we visited in Huntsville left one impression on me above all others. There was a huge mural tracing Alabama history. It started with the Native Americans - the Cherokees in the Northeast, the Creeks across the East, the Choctaws in the Southwest, and the Chickasaws in the Northwest. It then moved on to planter after judge after governor after businessman, as if that's all Alabama history was - a series of successful white men who came after the removal of noble, civilized, but still-in-the-way savages. There was not one black man or woman on that mural. For all of our suffering and sacrifice, turmoil and toil, it was like we never even existed, or - better yet - built Alabama.

In the Far West it was even worse. In Orofino, Idaho, it would hit 118 on July 28. The ten states with the highest average temperatures in the country that summer were all in the West. And the worst of the heat wasn’t in the Southwest, where people expected it and crops and lifestyles were adapted to it. Instead the heat scorched enormous swaths of the Intermountain West and even portions of the normally green Northwest. Nothing

As Rachel ran with her 18-month-old son James Pratt, she was knocked down to the ground by a hoe, dragged by her hair, and separated from her child. She found herself taken to the area where her uncle Benjamin had been mutilated; arrows had been stuck in his body, and passing warriors thrust spears into it.

Carleton took issue with Steck’s advocacy on behalf of Natives and embarked on a campaign with military leaders on Capitol Hill that eventually forced Steck out of his job.

She worked there for several months as a slave in a Mexican family until they sold her to a wealthy Hispanic man from Santa Fe, N.M. He also purchased another young captive Apache woman from New Mexico to accompany them. Both women were loaded onto an oxcart bound for Santa Fe in a journey that could take at least three months.

Despite it all, there were heroes who rose above their circumstances. Those who reached out to people of another race with compassion and even love.

More often than not, though, no further mention was made about the fate of the prisoners. I wondered to myself what happened to these people? After months of digging, I learned the ugly truth, which is also addressed in this book.

When this space was renovated, the friends of the bookstore put sacred tobacco, sweetgrass, cedar, and sage in the walls. Then they painted the front and back doors blue to keep out malignant energies. All over the world—in Greek villages, in the American Southwest, among the Tuareg—blueness repels evil. Blue glass bottles on windowsills keep devils out, and so on. Thus the front door, painted spirit blue, and the vibrant blue canopies above the windows. Which blue? There are thousands of blues.

You would think that one of the largest perennial streams in the American Southwest, brought to life by a wilderness holding deep snows in its higher reaches, would be full of life. But the Gila River is all but dead. And so is the forest. Much of it looks devastated. There used to be wolves, grizzly bears, Merriam’s elk, beavers, black-footed ferrets, and river otters here. Most of them exist, now, only on the cracked pottery of the long-vanished Mogollon.

TRAIL DESCRIPTION Begin Segment 8 on the west side of CO Hwy 91 (no parking) at mile 0.0 (9,820). Camping is prohibited the next 4 miles. The trail enters the forest southwest and follows a few switchbacks uphill as it skirts the golf course, crosses a bridge, and passes under a power line. The CT then heads northwest and traverses ski runs, goes under a ski lift, and passes nearest the Copper Mountain Resort at mile 1.6 (9,768). There are restaurants, sporting goods shops, and some grocery shopping at the base of the ski hill. The trail passes underneath the American Eagle Ski Lift and then becomes single-track at mile 2.1 (9,988), following a few roundabout switchbacks up the hill. There are two streams ahead, followed by great views of the Tenmile Range. At mile 3.4 (10,345), bear sharply to the right and leave the horse trail the CT was following. A cross-country ski trail merges from the left at mile 5.0 (10,519), but the CT continues straight ahead. At mile 5.2 (10,480), pass Jacque Creek, immediately followed by Guller Creek. There is a campsite just up the hill between the two. Continue upstream along Guller Creek following an elongated meadow to mile 6.2 (10,854) for additional camping and water. Janet’s Cabin, a popular ski hut, comes into view as the trail climbs out of the canyon.

国外假学历咨询【Q微202 661 44 33】纽卡斯尔大学毕业证成绩单购买一模一样的证书如何办纽卡斯尔大学毕业证学历认证书。如何购买澳洲毕业证办理纽卡斯尔大学毕业证|购买UN毕业证|Q微2026614433|购买UN购买出售澳洲毕业证|购买澳洲文凭TheUniversityofNewcastle SSNSNSNSBSNSBNSMBmn Most Americans are ignorant of or oblivious to the reasons for the seemingly endless waves of would-be immigrants and asylum-seekers at its Mexican border. Journalist J. Malcolm Garcia has written a collection of stories that will make it crystal clear. In A Different Kind of War, Garcia walks a mile in their shoes, visiting Central America, Mexico and the American southwest to report on the why. It boils down to people cannot live like this. Lack of action means almost certain death.

Many of you may not agree with the Pueblo assessment that we are fragile. Your response might be to say, “Well, unless there is a nuclear war—which will destroy all of us including the Pueblos—we will be here.” Fine, and Puebloan people understand that, too. Their viewpoint is based more on the fact that we are rapidly using up our water in the Southwest by wasting it on lawns and golf courses. They reckon that when the water is gone, our local high-technology jobs and industries will move elsewhere, and, uncommitted to any real community, so will most of the rest of us. Their view is not necessarily that the United States will vanish everywhere at once in a puff of smoke. Rather, it is that sooner or later the America now living in the American Southwest will use up its basic necessities, will shrink dramatically, and, uncommitted to permanence, will drift away to pick sweeter fruits elsewhere. Our own experts on population, industry, and environment are raising many of these same concerns.51 So we need to ask, “Why aren’t we more committed to our own communities?

A city is more than a place in space, it is a drama in time.

As he bit into the oily green flesh, Fairchild couldn't have known he was holding in his hands the future crop of the American Southwest. But he had a hunch. It was a black-skinned fruit, a variety of alligator pear, or as the Aztecs called it, "avocado," a derivative of their word for testicle. It grew in pairs, and had an oblong, bulbous shape. The fruit had the consistency of butter and was a little stringy. But unlike the other avocados he had tasted farther north, in Jamaica and Venezuela, this one had remarkable consistency. Every fruit on the tree was the same size and ripened at the same pace, rare qualities for anything that grew in the consistent warmth of the subtropics. In Santiago, where a boat had deposited Fairchild and Lathrop, the avocado had an even greater quality. Fairchild listened intently as someone explained that the fruit could withstand a mild frost as low as twenty-three degrees Fahrenheit. Such a climatic range suggested a perfect crop for America. From central Mexico, the worldwide home of the first avocados, centuries of settlers had carried the fruit south to Chile. David Fairchild mused about taking it the other way, back north. "A valuable find for California," he wrote. "This is a black-fruited, hardy variety." Lathrop tagged along on the daytime expedition when Fairchild tasted that avocado. He agreed that a fruit so hardy, so versatile, would perfectly answer farmers' pleas for novel but undemanding crops, ones that almost grew themselves, provided the right conditions. Fairchild didn't know the chemical properties of the avocado's fatty flesh, or that a hundred years in the future it would, like quinoa, find esteem, owing to its combination of fat and vitamins. But he could tell that such a curious fruit, unlike any other, must have an equally curious evolutionary history. No earthly mammal could digest a seed as big as the avocado's, and certainly not anything that roamed wild through South America.

And now, today, as we hear the call of the Raza, and as the dormant, "docile" Mexican American comes to life, we see the stirring of the people. With that call, the Chicana also stirs and I am sure that she will leave her mark upon the Mexican-American movement in the Southwest

Denial is death. It takes away the reality of the oppressed people. It happens in families. Kids are abused, and the parents deny it happened. It makes the kids crazy. They develop screwed-up behavior. Psychologically speaking, they don't know who they are or whether they are coming or going. Only when there is ACKNOWLEDGMENT of what happened can healing begin. TRUTH is a great medicine (178).

We changed the eating habits of an entire nation,” Bell states near the end of Taco Titan, and for once he isn’t merely self-mythologizing. Bell showed other Americans that their countrymen hungered for Mexican grub sold to them fast, cheap, and with only a smattering of ethnicity. Tacos the way Mexicans ate them were out of the question: tortilla factories were still concentrated in the Southwest, and tortillas didn’t last long.

100 Air China: 22" × 16" × 8" (max: Economy, 11 pounds/Business, 2 pieces of luggage, 17 pounds each) 101 American Airlines: 22" × 14" × 9" (max: undisclosed) 102 Delta Air Lines: 22" × 14" × 9" (max: 15 pounds when flying out of Singapore Changi Airport, 22 pounds when flying out of Beijing Capital Airport and Shanghai Pudong Airport) 103 EasyJet: 22" × 17.7" × 9.8" (max: undisclosed) 104 Emirates: 22" × 15" × 8" (max: 15 pounds) 105 Quantas: 22" × 14.2" × 9" (max: 15 pounds) 106 Ryanair: 21.7" × 15.7" × 7.9" (max: 22 pounds) 107 Southwest Airlines: 24" × 16" × 10" (max: 15.4 pounds) 108 Turkish Airlines: 21.7" × 15.7" × 9" (max: 17.6 pounds) 109 United Airlines: 22" × 14" × 9" (max: undisclosed)

The Minotaur is really the old matriarchal moon bull, beloved of the Goddess, and sacrificed each year for the fertility of the earth. This tale of the dying and reviving gods...is the Perennial Theme of all true poetry and myth, and the basis of much religious belief today... We come to see that Ariadne is the Goddess Herself, “Most Holy” and “High Fruitful Mother of the Barley” are the original meanings of her beautiful name. Worshipped primarily by women, her rites seem peaceful, and concerned with the womanly cycles of body, mind, and spirit... the labyrinth is her own body, the place of her mysteries, the cave/womb of initiation. We find this spiraling labyrinth in pre-patriarchal cultures around the world, such as that of the Hopis in the American Southwest, or the ancient Celtic peoples of Britain...The monster is not a monster, but only the still heart of woman, that men have so long suppressed and feared... the labyrinth unfolds and folds again upon itself...into our deepest Selves. And if we can keep our hold upon the thread, it will lead us back and out again… ‘til we have found spiritual rebirth, and escaped at last the tangled web of patriarchy.

American Express (AXP) Apple (AAPL) Bank of America (BAC) Bank of New York Mellon (BK) Charter Communications (CHTR) The Coca-Cola Company (KO) Delta Air Lines (DAL) Goldman Sachs (GS) JPMorgan Chase (JPM) Moody's (MCO) Southwest Airlines (LUV) United Continental Holdings (UAL) U.S. Bancorp (USB) USG Corporation (USG) Wells Fargo (WFC)

It’s about corporate America, the rich and the super rich are taking money from the poor and the middle class and giving it, with the help of the Republican party, to the rich, to CEOs who earn a hundred and forty million dollars after they’re forced out of a company when it’s losing money. It’s about defending pensions from corporate bankruptcy tricks and your private property from eminent domain to put up Wal-Marts. It’s about immigration reform which puts an end to the senseless death of the poor but ambitious in the deserts of the southwest, it’s about recognizing the importance of the contribution of Mexican Americans to our national culture.

Foreign leaves feed many a marsupial, grub and duck. Koalas often munch on American cypress pine needles and camphor laurel leaves. (They also like to perch in camphor laurels in summer for the cool shade they throw.) Exotic foods, and I don’t just mean weeds, are thoroughly enmeshed in foodwebs. Most Australia’s birds of prey take exotic meats. A study around Mildura found that young rabbits were the staple food (60-92 percent by weight) of eagles, goshawks, harriers, kites and falcons – eight species in all. That was be calicivirus struck. Wedge-tailed eagles will eat feral cats. In Western Australia little eagles moved into the south-west when rabbits arrived, then retreated after myxomatosis struck. House mice feed hawks, snakes and owls in central Australia, making up to 97 percent of barn owl diets.

The two bodies lay in plain sight of the shuttered Salt Bingo Casino, though there are no witnesses other than a coyote and its jackrabbit prey. The two bodies lay still until the sun-cracked it is light over the Arizona desert like a sky egg.

From above—though it would be decades, yet, before satellites and space travel would show the world this way—the Colorado River’s watershed looks like a ragged, many-veined leaf, its stem planted firmly in the Gulf of California. In a wetter climate it might be invisible, hidden by the canopies of trees and overhanging banks of flowers and ferns. But here, in the American Southwest, the river carves and folds the landscape around it as if water holds a weight not measured in ounces. Its headwaters begin in the Wind River Range of Wyoming, a jumbled stretch of the Rocky Mountains, where cold rivulets of snowmelt wake beneath ice each spring to surge into a thunderous rush and pour into the Green River. Jotter and her companions had floated a placid stretch of the Green, 120 miles through the red rock of Utah, where the river loops and doubles back like a dawdling tourist in no hurry to reach the next vista. Earlier that day, they had reached the confluence where the Green joined another tributary known, until not long before, as the Grand. It, too, draws its headwaters from Rocky Mountains west of the Continental Divide. The Grand was shorter than the Green, but it had won the affections of a Colorado congressman named Edward Taylor. In 1921 he successfully lobbied to rename the smaller tributary after its main channel: the Colorado River. “The Grand is the father and the Green the mother, and Colorado wants the name to follow the father,” Taylor said in his persuasive speech to the U.S. House of Representatives, adding as further evidence that the Grand was a much more treacherous river than the Green, killing anyone who tried to raft it.

Two richly dressed skeletons were discovered lying on a bed of fifty-six thousand pieces of turquoise, surrounded by fine ceramic vessels, and covered by a sheet of ivory-colored shells imported from the ocean six hundred miles away.

From 1803 to 1860, slave owners expanded their hold on the North American continent, churning through new land and bringing slaves from the older states to the newer through a vast new domestic slave trade. New Orleans, perfectly positioned as a gateway to the new Southwest, became the nation’s largest hub for slave trading—playing a pivotal role in the expansion of American slavery.

I turned off my light in the back of the cave. I closed my eyes. It felt as if all these centuries, these thousands of years, were contained here, their processions playing out again and again as drips strummed the pool beside me. The same routes are traveled repeatedly, the same meridians followed across horizons, over hundreds of years. Anasazi, I thought, was never a people. It was a rhythm, a form of motion stirred up from the land. People merely fell into step.

I turned off my light in the back of the cave. I closed my eyes. It felt as if all these centuries, these thousands of years, were contained here, their processions playing out again and again as drips strummed the pool beside me. The same routes are traveled repeatedly, the same meridians followed across horizons, over hundreds of years. Anasazi, I thought, was never a people. It was a rhythm, a form of motion stirred up from the land. People merely fell into

.., the modern American, particularly in Texas and the Southwest, talks progressive, but he votes conservative. He assails Washington and all its works, but demands more than his share of federal money; indeed the Southwest only exists at all thanks to federal spending on water projects, without which it would go back to the desert within a year.

In the American Southwest, for example, parts of the great Anasazi road system and its way stations were closed in the thirteenth century by burning brush and smashing sacred pots along its length, when the ancestral Pueblo people abandoned the region.

Wikipedia: Reconquista (Mexico) A prominent advocate of Reconquista was the Chicano activist and adjunct professor Charles Truxillo (1953–2015) of the University of New Mexico (UNM). He envisioned a sovereign Hispanic nation, the República del Norte (Republic of the North), which would encompass Northern Mexico, Baja California, California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. He supported the secession of US Southwest to form an independent Chicano nation and argued that the Articles of Confederation gave individual states full sovereignty, uncluding the legal right to secede. Truxillo, who taught at UNM's Chicano Studies Program on a yearly contract, suggested in an interview, "Native-born American Hispanics feel like strangers in their own land." He said, "We remain subordinated. We have a negative image of our own culture, created by the media. Self-loathing is a terrible form of oppression. The long history of oppression and subordination has to end" and that on both sides of the US–Mexico border "there is a growing fusion, a reviving of connections.... Southwest Chicanos and Norteño Mexicanos are becoming one people again." Truxillo stated that Hispanics who achieved positions of power or otherwise were "enjoying the benefits of assimilation" are most likely to oppose a new nation and explained: There will be the negative reaction, the tortured response of someone who thinks, "Give me a break. I just want to go to Wal-Mart." But the idea will seep into their consciousness, and cause an internal crisis, a pain of conscience, an internal dialogue as they ask themselves: "Who am I in this system?" Truxillo believed that the República del Norte would be brought into existence by "any means necessary" but that it would be formed by probably not civil war but the electoral pressure of the region's future majority Hispanic population. Truxillo added that he believed it was his duty to help develop a "cadre of intellectuals" to think about how the new state could become a reality.

In the early 1900s, while colonization continued, the original Mexican population of the Southwest was greatly increased by an immigration the continues today. This combination of centuries-old roots and relatively new ones gives the Mexican-American people a rich and varied cultural heritage.

Both the Redds and Bleus have pets, since Americans of all political stripes love animals. But it turns out there is a dog/cat divide that breaks down along partisan lines. Euromonitor has tracked pet ownership in the United States and around the world. Its state-by-state map of dog versus cat preferences doesn’t look much different from the electoral college map. Cats outnumber dogs in the Northeast, Upper Midwest, and the Pacific Coast. The South and Southwest are dog country. Including the District of Columbia, of the ten states with the largest cat-to-dog ratios, nine regularly vote Democratic for president—Massachusetts, Maryland, Maine, Vermont, Connecticut, DC, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, and New York. Only Ohio fails to fit the pattern. Of the ten states with the largest dog-to-cat ratios, eight regularly vote Republican—Arkansas, Texas, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Mississippi, Arizona, Tennessee, and Missouri. New Mexico is the outlier here. Other studies have also revealed a relationship between ideology and pet preferences, with conservatives more dog-friendly and liberals more cat-friendly.

The well-known Mr. Davenport, and Mr. Eaton, and several eminent persons that came over to the Massachuset-bay among some of the first planters, were strongly urged, that they would have settled in this Bay; but hearing of another Bay to the south-west of Connecticut, which might be more capable to entertain those that were to follow them, they desired that their friends at Connecticut would purchase of the native proprietors for them, all the land that lay between themselves and Hudson’s River, which was in part effected. Accordingly removing thither in the year 1637, they seated themselves in a pleasant Bay, where they spread themselves along the sea-coast, and one might have been suddenly as it were surprised with the sight of such notable towns, as first New-Haven; then Guilford; then Milford; then Stamford; and then Brainford, where our Lord Jesus Christ is worshipped in churches of an evangelical constitution; and from thence, if the enquirer make a salley over to Long-Island, he might there also have seen the churches of our Lord beginning to take root in the eastern parts of that island.

Rather than following the orthodox temporal organization of dividing the early nineteenth-century Southwest into Spanish, Mexican, and American periods, I adopt a spatial approach in order to make visible the geopolitical structures, divides, and continuities enforced by Comanches. Doing so reveals the blueprint of the Comanche empire.

The river instantly resumed its thundering way toward the Salton Sea. Cory brought the river back under control on November 4 “by exhausting the capacities of every quarry between Los Angeles and Nogales, four hundred and eighty-five miles to the east.” Yet one month later, the river busted loose again. For Harry Cory, the sixth failed attempt to close the breach was the last straw. The Southern Pacific had poured more than a million dollars “into that hole” and the river had swept it all away. A sustainable repair required not only a dam, but the construction and permanent maintenance of fifteen miles of levees along the west bank, reinforced with concrete and steel to keep the river corralled even at its most violent. These would be the most expensive levees ever built over such a distance—not a job for the Southern Pacific, in his weary judgment. The railroad was the most resourceful, rich, and powerful enterprise in the Southwest, yet the river had brought it to its knees.

The oldest American capital is Santa Fe, founded in 1609, over 150 years before the United States was even born and almost 250 before the United States eventually conquered what’s now the Southwest from Mexico.

I don’t know why I love the open spaces in the Southwest or Grand Central Terminal or the fading Atomic Age Googie architecture you see sometimes when driving. I don’t know why merely glimpsing the Statue of Liberty brings tears to my eyes, or why a single phrase on an Etta James or Patsy Cline record does what it does to me. It just does. I have spoken to other immigrants about this, and I have noticed that there is generally a satisfactory explanation — religious freedom, the chance at self-expression, the country’s size — and then there is the wistful stuff that moistens the eyes. Show me a picture of two canyons, and the fact that one of them is American will make all the difference. Just because it is American. Is this so peculiar? Perhaps.

The dead are past our help though it's hard sometimes to live without them. They take a piece of us with them when they leave, and we must learn to live reduced. We must live and let the dead be dead. And then we let them go. That is what it is to love them.

It’s no secret that mainstream American habits are not always leading kids to educational and life success. In Sunset Park, Chinese kids are part of a counter-culture that is reinforced on a daily basis by family members, by other adults, by Chinese television shows, by local test-prep centers. Shopkeepers might ask whether they’ve done their homework. They don’t ask what they want to be when they grow up because the correct answer is all but universally shared. The role models for poor Chinese kids, observers point out, are not basketball players and rap stars but successful businesspeople and professionals. MOVING UP While most eyes have been on the shifting demographics of places like Bush-wick and Greenpoint, the Chinese have been redefining several of southwest Brooklyn’s legendary white ethnic neighborhoods near Sunset Park.

prepare for them.12 It was not a spread-eagle speech, but it probably represented in its earnestness and the honesty of its convictions the highest pitch of eloquence Powell was capable of. His heart was still in the irrigation struggle, and the battle could still be won. While he was telling North Dakota what was good for it and urging it to make maximum use of its streams, the North American Review published a Powell article 13 (the source of Senator Stewart’s learning) pointing up the lessons of the Johnstown flood. It said what only an ethnologist might have been expected to know: that agriculture developed first in arid lands, that irrigation agriculture was historically the first agriculture worthy of the name, that on the Indus and the Tigris-Euphrates and the Nile, as well as in the American Southwest, stable civilizations had built themselves on the necessity of controlling streams for irrigation. The only truly agricultural American Indians were desert Indians living in areas where agriculture might have been thought impossible. There was the full hope and expectation, therefore, that the American West would become one of the great agricultural regions of the world, but the hope was predicated on wise use of water and control of the rivers. The Johnstown flood, which had told many Americans that it was fatally dangerous to dam

I write regularly for OnEarth and OnEarth.org, the publications of the Natural Resources Defense Council, and for my updating of the big-picture ideas about the aridity of the West I relied on the up-to-the-minute reporting of my colleagues at that magazine, particularly that of Michael Kodas on the western fires. For a larger synthesis of current and coming climate changes I looked toward Fred Pearce’s When the Rivers Run Dry: Water—the Defining Crisis of the Twenty-First Century and, especially, A Great Aridness: Climate Change and the Future of the American Southwest by William deBuys, a writer who calmly but convincingly presents a terrifying picture of the current and future West.

Often they are mentioned in the same breath as drugs that are smuggled across, or terrorists that might try to be. What crosses the border is dangerous; the Southwest is our 'exposed flank.' There is a nagging fear that we've gone to sleep with the back door unlocked. "In Mexico the migration is less imagined and more concrete. It's something people from the poorest and most remote corners of the republic have participated in for years -- at least as far back as 1848, when the United States, through the Mexican War and the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, acquired nearly half of their country, stranding many Mexican nationals in a foreign land. Then, as now, migration has been recognized to be a two-way street, of people leaving home for a while, working, and then mainly returning home. The relatively fast pace of American industrialization, coupled with Mexico's economic and demographic crises, has accelerated the movement north. Today, if you are among the majority of Mexicans -- those with very little money -- working in the United States is not merely something you hear about, but something you might consider. It is one of life's few options.

The mystery of what happened to Easter Island’s civilization has haunted generations of writers and scientists. There are no trees on Easter Island because the Easter Islanders cut them all down. They deforested their island in the building and transportation of those giant stone heads. In the process of deforesting the island, they also started a downward spiral that drove their civilization to collapse. Easter Island serves as an object lesson for the interaction between an isolated, habitable environment and a civilization using that environment’s resources: they did it to themselves. The parallel to our current situation on Earth seems clear. In his 2007 bestseller, Collapse , anthropologist Jared Diamond unpacked that parallel. His work explored the trajectories of a number of human civilizations that disappeared at the height of their vibrancy and power. Diamond’s examples included the Anasazi of the American southwest, the Maya, and the Norse colony on Greenland. In each case, the civilization overshot the carrying capacity of its environment. Their populations grew as the society became ever more ingenious at extracting resources from its surroundings. Eventually, the limits to growth were hit. A short time after running into those limits, each civilization fell apart. Easter Island was the