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Politics : Politics for Pros- moderated -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: DMaA who wrote (135637)8/31/2005 10:41:52 AM
From: Ilaine  Read Replies (3) | Respond to of 793964
 
"The place is a bowl" = New Orleans. OK, but the rest of South Louisiana isn't a bowl. And the wetlands didn't just disappear on their own.

They've been chewed up by crewboats going out to the rigs, and loggers cutting down cypress trees to make paper.

It's a very fragile ecology, but the people who should be protecting it are destroying it, or allowing it to be destroyed, to put a few bucks into their pockets today, forget about tomorrow.

Republicans used to be in the forefront of conservation. Conservation used to be one of the bedrocks of conservatism. All over the world, it's the Leftists who destroyed the environment the worst.

We need to make a stand to save the environment, and it's a very unpopular stand among Republicans, because Republicans favor business and capitalism. But there won't be any place for business and capitalism to take place if the environment is destroyed.

Nobody has the right to use their private property in a way that endangers the safety of others.



To: DMaA who wrote (135637)8/31/2005 10:48:01 AM
From: Ilaine  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 793964
 
>>Oil versus the coast: the state's silence

BYLINE: By ADAM NOSSITER, Associated Press Writer

DATELINE: NEW ORLEANS

BODY:
Gov. Kathleen Blanco was excited enough to deliver the news in person, on the floors of the state House and Senate last month: the U.S. Senate had just voted to dole out $541 million for coastal restoration.

That money is courtesy of U.S. taxpayers. "An outrage," Senate Budget Committee Chairman Judd Gregg, R-N.H., called it; Louisiana politicians of all stripes, on the other hand, were jubilant and self-congratulatory. A deep-pockets sugar daddy was beginning to assume the $16 billion bill for Louisiana's loss of wetlands.

The politicians haven't been similary voluble about recent science news suggesting the tab might reasonably go someplace besides to our fellow citizens. An exhaustive new study by government scientists points the finger, convincingly, at oil and gas companies.

The scientists picked five areas at the bottom of Louisiana's ragged boot and demonstrated what has been bruited about for years: sucking oil and gas out of the marsh has caused it to disappear. "Rapid subsidence and associated wetland loss were largely induced by extraction of hydrocarbons and associated formation water," wrote Robert Morton and others from the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS). "Formation water" is jargon for the stuff that comes up with the oil.

Their corollary, about which Louisiana politicians have been equally silent: as oil and gas production in the marsh has dropped sharply since its 1970 peak, so has the rate of wetlands loss. Today, that loss would be low, according to a telling graph in the USGS report.

Advertising these incovenient facts wouldn't serve the atmosphere of crisis with which local pols have surrounded the problem. This has undoubtedly aided their quest for federal money, if not the public's understanding. And it would clash with the unwritten catechism in Louisiana before and after Huey Long: never get crosswise with big oil.

Indeed, for all the anguished pleas, gnashings of teeth, and supplications to the federal government to save Louisiana from sinking, never once has the state confronted what is likely to be the real culprit in wetlands-loss, most of which occurred in the 1960s and 1970s, according to Morton. (Other scientists posit long-term, continuing geological shifts as the most important cause for Louisiana's wetland loss; Morton and co. are dismissive, though some neutral observers aren't so sure).

A handful of private lawyers have taken on oil and gas. But not the state.

"The state has been the most silent, reluctant partner in this game," said Oliver Houck of the Tulane Environmental Law Clinic. "I think the trade-off is all but explicit," Houck said. "They want to get huge amounts of federal money. They feel that if they alienate the oil industry, they might miss their chance," he added.

"They've got 15 to 16 billion dollars hanging fire, and if the oil and gas industry puts in one negative word, that funding would be in jeopardy," said Houck. "Here, the state has never once sued oil and gas."

To be sure, in an atmosphere where the merest hint that more should be expected out of big oil is regarded as anathema, the idea of enlisting state lawyers is probably far-fetched.

Nobody testified last spring against a Louisiana legislator's perenially-proposed oil processing tax, the proposal's death was so certain. Just talking about such a tax was dead wrong and has probably frightened oil away from Louisiana, according to Republican state senator Max Malone - ignoring the fact that other areas beside the Louisiana marsh, like Texas, Oklahoma, Wyoming, and New Mexico, are geologically far more appealing to the drillers.

So it's up to the lawyers. But they too are operating in a hostile environment. The Louisiana Supreme Court, in a January opinion, said it was terribly sorry about what had happened to the coast. But it wasn't about to hold Castex Energy responsible for ruining land owned by the Terrebonne Parish School Board, having built canals and "altered the hydrology of the marsh."

The state, with all its expertise, was far better placed than any court to take up such a complicated matter. This was quite a switch from a decision two years before - as one of Houck's Tulane graduate students, Noah Perch-Ahern, points out in a recent paper - where the Louisiana Supremes were unwilling to "leave only understaffed and underfunded state agencies to oppose the oil companies," in their words.

The court need not have worried. That challenge is one that hasn't yet been taken up.

---

EDITOR'S NOTE: Adam Nossiter is a reporter for The Associated Press in New Orleans.

LOAD-DATE: July 18, 2005



To: DMaA who wrote (135637)8/31/2005 10:48:34 AM
From: carranza2  Respond to of 793964
 
The wetlands were OK in 1965 when Betsy, a lesser hurricane, struck with 125 mph winds and the city flooded and levees broke.

Katrina was a far more destructive hurricane; except for the fact that the levees broke, we would not be discussing the issue right now.

When we are discussing a storm of K's magnitude, the loss of wetlands makes only a small difference. And don't forget that repeated storms erode the wetlands naturally, though of course the oil industry is also responsible for damaging them. Restoring them, a horribly espensive process, is ultimately a losing proposition since wetlands are naturally worn away by repeated storms anyway.

And yes, it was also common knowledge that loss of wetlands didn't help, a reason the statute protecting them was passed.



To: DMaA who wrote (135637)8/31/2005 10:51:45 AM
From: Ilaine  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 793964
 
>>Louisiana agonizes over the future of its cypress forests

BYLINE: By CAIN BURDEAU, Associated Press Writer

DATELINE: MANCHAC, La.

BODY:
Bald cypress, Louisiana's state tree, has never been sacred - even today as the Bayou State's coastline sinks and disappears into the Gulf of Mexico.

From the outset of European settlement, Louisiana's vast cypress stands were used for caskets, water tanks, fortresses and ships. Sweet-smelling cypress shingles were almost as tough as slate and tile. Demand was steady and by the early 1900s Louisiana's coastal forests were nearly gone.

Now, history is about to repeat itself.

A second growth of cypress has sprung back across Louisiana's once-denuded coastline. And loggers, timber companies and saw mills are revving to take their cuts at an estimated 1,462 million cubic feet: Cypress harvest No. 2.

"There's a massive, massive, massive amount," says logger Jay Huber. "This timber is 80 years old. It will take a vast amount of time to cut it all and big business is coming there."

But standing in the way of the second felling of Louisiana's coastal forests are environmentalists, whose political clout has grown in the recent years because of Louisiana's catastrophic coastal land loss.

An area the size of Delaware - 1,900 square miles - is under water, gone. Swamp forest has turned into grasslands, grasslands into marshlands, and marshlands into open water.

It's now or never, environmentalists warn. Don't cut. Don't repeat history. Stop the loggers.

"I don't see a lot of people chaining themselves to trees - it's too hot! - but there's a lot of emotion," anti-logging advocate Michael Greene said as he guided a boat through stands of cypress that rise like elongated pyramids out of the swamps and marshes northwest of New Orleans.

"You see 50 meters back there, how it loosens up and there's no overstory," he said, pointing to an area clear cut a decade ago. "Something might grow back. In some cases you get trees, in some cases it's shrubs and in some cases you get marsh and it sinks."

He went on: "Can you imagine the redwood forests without redwoods in California? Sustainability is the issue. The changes around here in the last 100 years have been monumental."

No one disputes the changes. After all, cypress built Louisiana.

Timber operations cleared the way for towns, sugar cane fields and New Orleans' suburbs. Loggers were heroes who hacked at the omnipresent swamp, a place filled with alligators, disease-carrying mosquitoes and deadly snakes.

But this time around, environmentalists say, if the cypress goes Louisiana can kiss goodbye any thoughts of cypress harvest No. 3 in the year 2105.

"Talking about regenerating cypress in these ecosystems is like talking about regenerating oak forests in Manhattan. We're beyond that point," said Oliver Houck, an environmental lawyer at Tulane University.

Yet many of the people who run Louisiana don't see it like that.

"If you harvest it, it will regenerate," said Bob Odom, head of the Louisiana Department of Agriculture and Forestry. "What's better: to have a dead tree or a live tree? If you let it sit there and it dies, it's not a benefit to anyone."

Other forces are fueling the interest in logging the coast. Stocks are running low in Florida and other cypress-abundant states and gardeners are lapping up cypress mulch.

"It's being sold at all the main retail sores, Home Depot, Wal-Mart and Lowe's - that we know of," said Barry Kohl with the Louisiana Audubon Society. Environmentalists are now passing out brochures against cypress mulch at garden club meetings.

"Why should you take a 100-year-old cypress tree and put it on a plant," grumbled Rocky Rakocy, a 50-year-old crabber and catfisherman in Manchac. "They're dying and there aren't many left. Leave 'em alone."

The future of Louisiana's forests may rest in the hands of Gov. Kathleen Blanco.

She'll need to take some action on a new state report which recommends saving the cypress forests by designating areas in need of protection.

"This is a working wetland. We're not trying to preserve it as a national park, that has never been our objective," said Sidney Coffee, an environmental adviser to the governor. "Is it important for us to show that we're green? I think it's important for us to show that we're taking a balanced approach to this."

The fear is that landowners will repeat history.

Take the Manchac swamps. In the years after the Civil War, the chocolate-brown waters and cypress swamps around Manchac were bought up on the cheap by Midwestern lumber companies.

"The people don't count. They didn't own the land. The lumber companies owned the land," said Roman Heleniak, a semiretired historian who specializes in the area. "They had pretty much thinned out the lumber reserves of the Great Lakes region and we had vast amounts of lumber here and it was cheap."

The loggers did a thorough job. Today there are only snippets of what the virgin forests might have looked like.

Some beautiful trees dating back 1,000 years are now part of a national refuge called Cat Island, a lazy bend in the Mississippi River north of Baton Rouge. People can make the trek to the preserve's National Champion Bald Cypress Tree, the largest bald cypress east of the Sierra Nevada with its diameter of 16.5 feet and girth of 49 feet.

Out in the delta's basins, a few old groves are still around. Either too remote or too gnarled to cull, loggers left them alone.

"I guess people looked at it as a swamp and a quick buck," Heleniak said. "Nobody thinks 50 years ahead, and it's the same today."

The timber industry concedes that history cannot be repeated: There'll never be another harvest like the first one.

According to the Louisiana Forestry Association, there are 800,000 acres of cypress and its swampy cousin, the water tupelo, that can be harvested in a sustainable manner. Out of that, they want to harvest up to 10,000 acres a year.

"We're not the bad guys here," said Frank Vallot, who just opened a cypress saw mill in Roseland - one of the first in decades. "There are some areas that we want to cut today that they cut 20 years ago - that's regeneration. ... I'm an environmentalist: If the trees do not regrow, then I'm out of a job."

------


On The Web:

New report on Louisiana's coastal wetlands forests: coastalforestswg.lsu.edu

GRAPHIC: AP Photo

LOAD-DATE: July 10, 2005