Here you go! Here’s an article written by a “certified wildlife biologist” stating that officials introduced the wrong wolves into the Greater Yellowstone area back in the mid-nineties. So what! Wasn’t that the plan? Did the idiots who whined, lied, and deceived the people give one rat’s hind leg whether wolves brought into the lower 48 states were big or little? So now what are we to do with this bunch of mumbo-jumbo? All this is is more fodder to piss off more people that will be used against the citizens demonizing them and calling them names, along with radicals and nut jobs. Environmentalists want you to carry on about wrong wolves.

The environmentalists have accomplished just about all they have set out to do. The handful of loud mouths that have organized to try to expose these Marxist morons have provided nothing more than a bump in the road on their quest to destroy the Western way of life; i.e. ranching, hunting, riding the great plains in pursuit of life, liberty and happiness. What took many, many years of organization and millions of dollars piled into bank accounts, isn’t going to be slowed down by a handful of pissed off citizens who are only now seeing the corruption of government and the officials that have run amok for decades without much call for transparency and accountability.

So, now we have yet another “certified wildlife biologist” explaining why the introduced wolves aren’t the same wolves that Teddy Roosevelt wrote about in his travels out West. Wonderful. These wolves are bigger. Why are they bigger? Or better yet, why were the indigenous plains wolves smaller than the Canadian and Southeastern Alaska wolves?

From all this we now have proven that those involved in wolf introduction were either really stupid or really crooked. Take your pick of which one you believe it to be……or a mixture of both. But what does this do to the facts on the ground? Wolves are killing too many elk, deer and moose for the sportsman’s likings. They are raising hell with the ranchers. It appears fish and game departments aren’t much interested in those facts. Right now they are concerned about where their next dollar is going to come from now that the environmentalists have succeeded in running hunters out of the states of Idaho and Montana (Wyoming next?). With this concern, they are carefully making their bed to crawl into, along with the environmentalists, in hopes they can use their prostituted funds to keep the cushy jobs, benefits and retirement plans.

So, what’s the big deal? We’ve proven time and again that natives wolves existed in Idaho and Montana and were on the road to natural recovery before introduction. Has that discovery changed anything? We’ve proven time and again that the wolves captured and dumped into Yellowstone came from Canada and were bigger than the plains wolf. Has that expose changed anything? We had a chance to amend the Endangered Species Act and that was hijacked by a group calling themselves sportsmen because they, like all those in Washington, love to play with the power and corruption in politics, eager to sell their mother’s souls for a chance to gain power through corruption. With these kinds of friends, who needs enemies?

Those small few of us who see this malignant growth of cancer among humans, even if it’s just a small speck of it, can do nothing. Our best hope for accomplishment comes from winning one more person… at a time. That’s all. We keep clinging to such things as one more articles, one more study, one more scientists willing to speak up, like it will somehow be our salvation. But in reality, where is it getting us? Perhaps it’s time to try a different street.

There is perhaps the shortest book ever written about these sort of actions. It goes like this: (I apologize that I do not know the author.)

I walk down a street and there’s a big hole. I don’t see it and fall into it. It’s dark and hopeless and it takes me a long time to find my way out. It’s not my fault !

I walk down the same street. There’s a big hole and I can see it, but I still fall in. It’s dark and hopeless and it takes me a long time to get out. It’s still not my fault.

I walk down a street. There’s a big hole. I can see it, but I still fall in. It’s become a habit. But I keep my eyes open and get out immediately. It is my fault.

I walk down a street. There’s a big hole. And I walk around it.

I walk down a different street.