Here’s an activist’s nightmare. He – or she – camps out on the lawn of the State Legislature in the June heat for 51 hours with a ragtag band of fellow demonstrators alongside a troop of plastic hogs, piles of artificial hog manure and a baby wading pool full of the real thing (to send a message to legislators that hog waste doesn’t smell like Chanel No. 5). Then at the key moment in their vigil, as they’re chanting, ‘Hey, hey, ho, ho, hog lagoons have got to go’ – the waste in the wading pool doesn’t smell as bad as they’d hoped. Even in the ninety degree heat (News and Observer, 6-21-07).

Then they get some more bad news. A policeman stops by and says politely the fake pigs and fake manure have to go. Suddenly, stripped down to the bare essentials, activist Rick Dove – who seems to have spent a good part of his adult life crusading against hog farmers – says, incredulously, “Artificial poop too offensive. Can you imagine that? Folks all over North Carolina have feces and urine sprayed on their houses, their cars, their clothes.”

Huh? All over North Carolina? That must be some manure spreader. Most people don’t live within a hundred miles of a hog lagoon.

Finally, the worst news of all strikes: The legislative committee considering the bill on hog lagoons has cancelled its hearing.

It’s an activist’s nightmare.

I hope these folks – as soon as they got out of the June sun – did the one sane thing left. Retired to a local bar, put their feet up, and had a cold beer.

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