The Milagro Beanfield War

Competing interests divergently envision the possible future of a rural town, one striving to see the local populace flourish, the other secretly leaving them behind.

A family man hardworking and fed up decides to irrigate his land with forbidden water, suddenly changing the fortunes of the town as the impoverished people line up behind him.

The water had been reallocated for the lavish construction of a new land development, many residents having already sold out to the vested interests and swiftly left.

So many people don't want to leave though and dig in deep to defend their rights, seeking employment and inclusive strategies which sincerely enable lifelong habitation. 

They're old friends and newfound companions who have already found where they want to live, there's no desire to pick up and go to a different town and then start over.

Why not find steady jobs for them and dynamically include them in strategic plans, finding a place for schools and hospitals the next generation of crafty citizens?

Those kinds of leaders deserve respect the ones who genuinely care for the people of their town, and holistically look far ahead to a future that substantially includes them and their families.

The Milagro Beanfield War offers a crash course in multilateral civil conflict (there's even a sociologist), when the interests of struggling people are smugly dismissed with hard-hearted unconcern.

A former lawyer who became a journalist attempts to lead them even though he's jaded, a determined feisty knowledgeable mechanic consistently encouraging his strict resolve.

Imagine cutting off the water supply from impoverished farmers trying to feed their families, it's a bona fide human rights disaster so often ignored with lofty disgrace.

The well-financed powers-that-be are hoping they'll ignore the distressing changes, and won't exercise their democratic rights to firmly hold onto their courageous town.

Mutual respect for the townspeople and the developers can lead to sustainable economic interests, if people aren't trying to cheat one another and honestly agree to progressively work together.

Too bad so much of everything is inefficiently structured along distrustful lines, conversation, books, the cinema, religious differences, shopping, the news. 

There are times when things are less bitter and collective involvement leads to great change.

Like public schools and universal healthcare.

Democratic governments. 

Universal dynamism. 

A River Runs Through It

Family first and foremost reciprocally resigned in pristine pastures, a sturdy minister and his adventurous sons tenderly taken care of by an adoring mom.

Strict but not overbearing the natural tendency to erupt in play, openly encouraged within temporal limits reasonably applied each and every day.

Fly fishing forges the backbone of glib inquisitive rural endeavours, local rivers and fields and forests ebulliently itemized in joyous caricature.

It's focused on several times and becomes something artistic if not spiritual, the youngest lad remarkably entertaining with paramount dexterous improvised brilliance. 

His older brother's somewhat more tried and true and spends six years away from home at school, learning the integral ways of literature to be creatively taught with bucolic industry.

The younger takes to the wild and emphatically learns the art of journalism, freely expressing his withering whimsy with a festive fair-hand and spry open-mind. 

But somewhat unsettled somewhat borderline reckless he pursues risk-fuelled gambling and drink beyond reason. 

Yet still never arrives late for fishing.

And always puts on quite a show. 

Narrated with old world omniscience as if oracled fate was clairvoyantly hewn, exciting moments and tragic expenditures objectively passing with sagacious sentiment.

I remembered so many exuberant hours curiously exploring throughout my youth, as I watched those rambunctious lads engage in resolute countryside quorums. 

Such a shame when disciplinary regulations counterintuitively produce wanton interludes, the legionary impetus of the pervasive patterns alternatively encouraging adventitious catalogues.

Such a shame when a lack of order counterintuitively begets despotism, through the unfortunate contemptuous dismissal of laidback chillin' and relaxed intuition.

What a consistent pain applying reason and logic to find realistic solutions.

Sport always seems to fend off carnage.

The arts unfortunately lacking commensurate mass appeal.