Ol’ Jed Bickers here, your pal from ‘palachia. I was running some ‘speriments in my backyard laboratory, and I believe I may have just made some strides forwards in clean coal technology. Since you are basically depending on clean coal as a desperate long-shot towards the feasibility of your industry, I thought you might be mildly interested in my results.

As you can see from the attached charts, graphs, and that picture of my dog, immersing the coal in my swimmin’ hole and scrubbing vigorously produces a sort of black offscrub-powder which tints the water and stains my legs. While I am still waiting for the results of my rigorous eye-for-an-eye-’til-everyone’s-blind experimental procedures, tentative results suggest that the coal should be much cleaner than before. After all, did I not just scrub it for nearly half an hour? And anyway, I’m dirty now, so I guess it must have worked.

What’s more, and unlike any of your other shots at clean coal technology, this technology could be ready in the near term e.g. when it could actually help prevent problematic climate change. In fact, as soon as I can figure out how to get the coal to light, I think it should truly be clean, burning coal. I tried drying it off with a towel, but no good. I used to have some lighter fluid around here, but I think my pig drank it. (She breathes fire now. It’s awesome, and I have no other explanation.)

Of course, if these coal-cleaning techniques prove excessively long in development, or not actually that climate-friendly, you could always just use your huge advertising machine to spin it such a way in which it sounds better than it is. I expect you have lots of experience with this, so I’ll leave it up to you, but I did have a few suggestions… if it’s taking too long, you could say it’s “Truly a technology with our distant future in mind,” or that it’s “A Long Term Solution: Not a Short Term Solution.” Or maybe “a technology that won’t be ready for many years… in bed!” Wait, that sounded better in my head.

I do not ask for money for my idea; I am happy merely to strike a blow against our c’mmon ‘nemy, the hippie ‘iberal pinko c’mmie socialist f’sc’sts who want to ration our climate gasses. I can only assume this would also mean a fart tax of some sort, presumably staggering. (Then again, if you’re staggering while passing gas, you might want to get that looked at.)

With our combined efforts, and just a little more time spent in research, I believe this can be the wave of our future. I look forwards to taking this technology out of the literal swimming hole and into the proverbial hollering hole. Shout its praises from the mountaintops; and then, remove them!

They laughed at me! Ah, but I too have studied the science-tific method – I attended Community Highschool for nearly a semester and got my Associate’s Diploma in Green Energy: Energy That Is Green. But just because I don’t pronounce the first several letters of ‘palachia, and for that matter, hoot and holler around town on every second Saturday of the month wearing nought but a barrel, they mocked me! They called me mad, MAD! Well, I am a little now, but I wasn’t before.

Those left-fielders won’t know what hit ‘em. Together, we will make sure that’s the last tree they ever hug, and in an unrelated note, kill them. (At least metaphorically.)

Also, protesting (and/or most forms of environmental direct action) is just as much a form of terrorism as strawman is a form of argument. And for that they should be SHOT.

Yer faithful mad rural scientist, Jed Bickers, PhD

But! Every once in a while the siren call of the way I used to eat, and once in a maroon moon, I heed it. Tonight was one of those times. The siren in question, pleading her false case to my willing ears? Ach, the sailors speak of her only in whispered tongues… for she is the one known only as…

THE LADY OF THE DEEP………… FRY.

My mom used to make some very tasty fried chicken, it’s true. Her batter used buttermilk, cinnamon, either basil or oregano, and a little bit of hot sauce, then a little roll in flour, and turned out very well indeed. However, about six years ago I turned vegetarian, and as chicken is neither a vege-table nor a Liber-tarian (well, in most cases), I therefore do not eat it. This is not to imply that I do eat Liberatarians, it’s just a consideration.

But at some point, long after I had seen the high-cellulose light, I had the desire to make it again, but with tofu and vegetables. I believe the vegetables turned out better than the tofu, but it kinda worked. It however failed to be as good as I remembered it.

The thing is, the way my mom made it, she always patted the chicken dry after removing it from the boiling oil. This was to get rid of the extra oil, but I in my youthful hubris thought, “Gee, why would I want to do that?” The oil is, after all, part of what makes it good, and therefore more of it should be better, right? This, while mathematically sound, was unfortunately not even remotely true.

This wasn’t my problem tonight, however. Tonight, I just made a whole bunch of greasy foods (and not enough non-greasy foods). And then ate them, or, rather, about half of them, which was still way too many of them for one sitting. As such, my body now feels like a well-oiled machine, which contrary to what the purveyors of everyday metaphor would have you believe, is not actually a very good feeling.

I think I could still enjoy deep-fried foods somewhat, in moderation. A whole bunch of tastily refreshing things and a few grease-bombs here and there… prepared with whole wheat flour, of course, and fried mostly in olive oil. Balance is key, and not just in gymnastics. Perhaps that’s why they always tell you to get plenty of exercise with your well-balanced diet?

But, all the same, I’m beginning to think a whole lot more of raw vegetables… their goodness is subtler than the greasier foods I used to eat, but I seem to feel better eating them, and they’re just kinda good. I still like cooked foods here and there, but they’re now only part of my diet, and I’m totally okay with that.

Now, it’s possible that I’m just not very good at deep-frying – which, admittedly, is probably true… By the end of my frying experiment, my oil was as black as that other kind of oil whose rigs seem to keep blowing up. Fortunately, my oil did not blow up, and I don’t have any rigs to speak of, so that’s fortunate.

NEXT WEEK: Now You’re Cooking with Biodiesel

April 1 Forsooth! Yon chain did sink to the bottom of the harbor upon it being placed in the water. The imperator has declared that any flotsam be redirected for use in holding up the defensive device. Three barrels and one rowboat were dedicated.

April 5 Word of the eastern advance has scared the surrounding countryside into the city walls. Now we have but a few thousand sheep to eat during this siege. Several carrots were found in my room today. I will keep them secret.

April 6 One of the foot soldiers defecating over the wall this morning was the first casualty of this battle. An ottoman archer scouting the defenses spotted him and was able to ‘pretty much shoot straight up’. The man is recovering in wounded-barn.

April 14 Treachery! One of our defensive siege onagers, loaded with a lit fire-ball, did “fall apart” according to its captain, and have the ball roll backward into a tent full of powder. Reports say the explosion was heard across the Hellespont.

May 1 These terrific fag-heads have constructed a tower of siege by which they intend to breach the city walls. Naturally, we have been flinging excrement and stones at it. Little to no effect has been seen.

May 12 A boy has found my carrots and threatened to tell the captain of the watch. In the ensuing death-struggle I dispatched him with one of those very carrots, the first thing I could get my hands on.

May 15 Running out of ink to write with. Have eaten most of my remaining parchment. City morale low. Ottoman excrement flies over the battered walls constantly.

May 28 I have envisioned our escape from this hell. I will petition the governor to take the remaining horses and donkeys and strap to them each a keg of powder. The animals will be force fed shot as well. When we fling open the gates, the fire-beasts will run through the enemy lines, and our marksmen archers will launch flaming arrows at them. The resulting chaos should be sufficient to either mount a counter-attack or escape across the sea.

May 29 Plan semi-effective. Note: donkeys are scared when they see other exploding donkeys.