Breath easy, the CO2 you exhale is harmless.

By Ted Werth

“One of the common failings among honorable people is a failure to appreciate how thoroughly dishonorable some other people can be, and how dangerous it is to trust them” ~ Thomas Sowell

Imagine for a moment that Carbon Dioxide (CO2) had zero impact on the environment. Would you approach life differently? Would you be more inclined to buy the vehicle you want, to turn up the gas heat as much as you want?

Would you consider buying expensive solar panels for your house if you knew they would never ever save you enough money to pay for themselves? Would you be inclined to reduce your food, clothing and housing spending so you could pay cap and trade taxes to government.

Probably not. Well here is the truth. The theory of man-made global warming is a fraud. Emails of the experts confirm that it is about politics. It is not based on real science, but on corrupted science that cherry picks its data, keeps that data from review and if necessary destroys the data. It is flat out fraud designed to play on your emotions and fears in order to control your personal freedom; to take your money and to transfer it to a handful of organizations, governments, companies and individuals.

Since no one would agree to this without a reason, science has been perverted to create a false need to 'save the earth.' Nonsense. We now have the final evidence needed to topple this house of cards. Additional evidence comes from the emails of so called scientists who have been treated by media and government as the leading experts. These emails and documents have been provided to the world by a whistle blower and have now been acknowledged as authentic.

Here is some of what we know so far:

• In at least several cases these scientists destroyed the data that they used to created the "science" of global warming. These are the data sets that all climatologists accept as the basis of their work. Their emails urged each other to delete emails and data to protect it from freedom-of-information requests.

• The data that was used to create the data-sets that are used by all global warming scientists was destroyed years ago. So the only "data" available is that "created" by these few scientists. Using methods that they won't share and can't be verified by other scientists since, you guessed it, they are not sharing their methods.

• That much of the early history of earth temperatures was "determined" using tree ring data from 1,100 year old trees in Siberia. From hundreds of tree samples the researcher chose, first 12 trees, then 10 trees and by 1998 only only 5 trees. The growth rings from these five trees supposedly provided a perfect record of increasing temperatures. The theory is that the rings are further apart in warm years. However it is now known that these trees were seemingly selected to provide the pattern that would "prove" the theory of global warming. After several years, the data from dozens of other trees show a completely different record then the five used by climatologists. In other words they had a theory and searched for a few trees whose rings happened to look like what they wanted to prove. They tossed out the data from the other trees since they contradicted the results they wanted. Finally, these emails show that tree ring data for the last 20 years doesn't track with global warming predictions so they dropped tree ring data analysis for the last 20 years from their data sets.

• Since 1998 world-wide human produced CO2 has increased by 26%. Yet world temperatures have fallen. You might have noticed that this inconvenient truth has lead the global warming crowd to start using the term "climate change"
  

• That these handful of scientists plotted to exclude "doubters" from providing peer review of their studies. In other words, only those who were on the global warming band wagon were allowed to review, and verify, their work.

• That they threatened scientific publications that printed research by those who contradicted the idea that factors beyond the control of man determine the earths temperature.

Two things told me, long ago, that this whole idea was a fraud. First, I've observed nature close up over the years and the idea that man has the power to destroy the earth is about as likely as man being able to build a tower (of babel) to heaven. The idea that using incandescent light bulbs is going to melt the polar ice caps is, well delusional. Secondly, by observing the political leanings of those most closely associated with the global warming industry it is apparent that this is about politics, not science. Socialists, Marxists and internationalists run deep. Former Soviet President Mikael Gorbachev, after moving to San Francisco, promptly joined the Green Party.

Fishing Memories

By Ted Werth

Spring and summer meant Saturday fishing trips with my Dad. The early morning tap on my shoulder would signal the start of activities that included the dawn drive along the river followed by the chilly five-minute walk across a bridge, down a winding trail and across the rocks to our fishing spot on the McKenzie River.

Worms were always the bait of choice, matched with a heavy sinker to keep it in place on the snag prone river bottom.

I was only 6 years old when I started tagging along, my Dad took care of all the knot tying. My job was to put the worm on correctly so the soft end properly covered the hook.

I have fond memories of these trips. The early sunrise and the warmth that followed. The joy of catching the first fish of the morning. Like any kid, as the day wore on my interest would start to wane, replaced by anticipation of a stop at the store for snacks on the way home.

There was one thing I feared though. The thought of getting my line snagged on the bottom. My Dad always reminded me to lift the rod tip and reel quickly. This helped to avoid catching the rocky bottom. Nevertheless, I still managed to lose my line all too often. Dad would come over and tie on a new swivel, sinker and hook along with a friendly warning to lift and reel. Once was ok. Twice was, shall I say, highly discouraged.

So you can imagine how I felt one Saturday, when I went to retrieve my line and felt the steady resistance that told me I was hung up again; I had already used my free pass for the day. With a sinking feeling, I gave a steady tug and realized that my line moved a little; I was hooked on something that was moving. I quickly pronounced, with great relief, that I must have caught a large piece of wood. I continued to pull, reel and pull again.

Eventually the end of my line arrived and was surprised to pull out a large metal telephone. I’ve often wondered what the story was behind that phone. Someone had to carry it across the across the bridge, down the winding trail and across the rocks before throwing it in. Why? I guess I’ll never know.

Veterans Day

(Below is the full version of what I wanted to write about Veterans Day. I also wrote a short version that was published in the Statesman Journal that can be found here.)

By Ted Werth

As I approached my office on a sunny morning in September, I caught the movement of falling leaves. As I turned to look across the street I paused mid-step and felt sadness. The handful of small, bright yellow leaves floating through the air framed, all too perfectly, the statue of the kneeling soldier. Behind the soldier is a wall. A wall with the 113 names of those Oregon soldiers, Marines, airman and sailors who made the ultimate sacrifice for their county in Iraq and Afghanistan. It was as if each of the small, gently falling leaves represented a name on that wall. I was sad for the lost lives and the potential they represented; sad for the families who live with a personal loss the rest of us can never fully understand. Later, I felt sadness for the many that seem to forget all too soon the sacrifices made daily on behalf of this great country.

You see, it is easy to get motivated in the middle of a crisis like 9/11. But less so once things have calmed down and the threats seem to have gone away. For us, life goes on, but the threats never really go away. We are tempted to pretend they do. There are still those that would like nothing better than to harm us. Politicians debate the war and the appropriate war strategies. Those who volunteer live day to day. Not knowing when they will be called on to step into harms way. Not knowing when violence might strike. Veterans Day is a day to remember those who have, and are, protecting us.

I grew up in the Vietnam War era. Aside from my original 1964 GI Joe Action Figure, my first recollection of soldiers came from a letter I received from a soldier in Vietnam. Our 3rd grade class had written letters of encouragement to random names of those serving. I have no recollection of what I wrote, but for whatever reason, I was the only one to receive a letter. At that point the war, although I didn't really understand it, became personal. It would soon become even more so as my older brother sailed up and down the rivers of Vietnam delivering Marines to the front lines.

Radio was big back in the 1960's. We didn't have iPods, CD's or even cassettes. Record players were not so portable so we mostly listened to the radio. It was somewhere along here that I heard the song "Green Berets" by Barry Sadler. I was alone in the room I shared with my younger brother. It was a sunny day, probably a Saturday. Before this I had shared a room with my older brother who was now overseas. We used to listen to the radio as we relaxed in our beds before going to sleep. A few years later, I listened as the words came from that same radio:

"Back at home a young wife waits, her Green Beret has met his fate
He has died for those oppressed, leaving her this last request
Put silver wings on my son's chest, make him one of America's best
He'll be a man they'll test one day, have him win the Green Beret"

It left me thinking about the soldier who wrote to me; how was he doing? I wondered about my brother. We waited patiently for his letters;. There were no cell phones or email back then. Near my home was a war memorial at a city park. It listed the names of local men and women serving in Vietnam. I knew right where my brother’s name was; I wondered about the others.

It wasn't long after this that Tim Ownbey, a friend of our family, gave the ultimate sacrifice. I vaguely remember the funeral. Mostly I remember the sadness and hurt that his Mom carried. His name too is on a wall. The wall in Washington DC.




In January 1991 my family watched, like millions across America, as explosions captured by night-vision cameras appeared on our TV screen. It was the start of the first war in Iraq. Most of America under age fifty had never seen a war like this. It turned out to be a short conflict that ended with the Iraqi Army hightailing it out of Kuwait. But beforehand there was a level of anxiety about how well we would do. There were many unknowns. As we continued to watch the TV that evening, my almost 4 year old daughter asked me "why are we fighting?" Attempting to put war in context for a four year old requires a certain simplicity. I told her that there was a group of people who lived next door to Saddam Hussain's country and that one day Saddam decided he wanted what they had. So he sent his army in and took everything for himself. A slight scowl came across her face as she contemplated this. A few moments later she declared "Saddam is a bad man." I think it made it personal for my daughter that day. She now serves in the U.S. Marine Corps at Twentynine Palms, CA. As you can understand, Veterans Day is once again very personal for me.



Recently I read about the death of another Oregon soldier. I found myself thinking of the wall across the street. Thinking that one day soon, workers will arrive to inscribe another name in the granite memorial. Several times a month I take a walk through the various memorials to wars current and past. I always pause at "the wall" and read several of the names; then I say a prayer for those families. I don't know their circumstances or history. I do know that their life is less complete, and that we owe them a debt of gratitude, along with the assurance that we will not forget.

It is fitting that we honor our Veterans at least once a year. It helps us to remember their personal sacrifice; it keeps things personal for us. On this day it is also appropriate for us to put aside our differences to say thanks to all that have served; each and every individual.

I went out during lunch that September day and picked up one of those leaves. I have it pinned to my wall. It helps to remind me to say a prayer, not only for my daughter, but also for all the other brave men and women that keep us safe.

"Halloween" followup

The name of the Marine mentioned in my last post was released today. Marine Reserve Sgt. Cesar B. Ruiz of San Antonio, TX. He is survived by his wife and 14 month old son.

"Maria Ruiz was celebrating her birthday on Halloween when she learned her son had been killed that same day by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan.

“‘It doesn’t matter which day they told you that your son died,’” Ruiz’s daughter, Maricela Chapa, remembered her mother saying. “‘It matters that your son died.’”

At dusk Tuesday, 20 or so family members remembered Marine Reserve Sgt. Cesar B. Ruiz, a 2000 Taft High School graduate who died Saturday in Helmand province, Afghanistan’s most violent area.

He was 26."

Full story here.

Halloween

By Ted Werth

I had a great time October 31st. I spent the evening in Eugene watching the Oregon Ducks soundly defeat the USC Trojans. The defeat was of such a magnitude that you have to go back to 1946 to find a game where an opponent gained more yards against a USC team. For a Duck fan, it just doesn't get any better.

On Monday we received an email forwarded by a marine mother we know.

"Hey mom, just got on long enough to send you a quick message, and hopefully I'll be able to call you soon! We lost one of our own on Halloween. Sad story, don't want to talk about it.. good Marine."

I'm often struck by how easy it is to surround ourselves in our activities and comfort while our soldiers fight. Even as you read this, there is a battle going on somewhere.

A week from now Veterans Day will be upon us. But there is no need to wait until then to say a prayer for our troops. They need our support every day, as do their parents, spouses and children.