An introduction:
Bob Kincaid is a journalist, activist and co-founder of H.O.R.N.: (The
Head-On Radio Network www.headonradionetwork.com) broadcasting from the
heart of West Virginia's coal fields; from the heart of the whitewater
rafting country. Founded specifically on the internet because, "barring
a paradigm shift of monumental proportions," Bob says, "progressives
will NEVER get a voice in terrestrial radio. HORN uses a a new form of
radio format: "Conversation Radio," in which guests and callers get all
the time they need to put their ideas forward. The host is not the star
and does not ramrod the conversation. HORN has seven professional
broadcast hosts, all doing shows every day without pay, with hosts in
Chicago, Washington D.C., West Virginia, Florida and Australia, not to
mention the only gay conversation program going on the internet. Bob is
one of those people who talks straight, is tough as nails and stays
broke so he can help sponsor the fight for the dignity of the ordinary
working man. As far as I am concerned, Bob Kincaid is the only
progressive talker in the medium with a Southern background, talking
genuine progressive politics and still living in the South.
-- Joe Bageant
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Coal keeps the lights on and the workers locked in darkness
By Bob Kincaid
I live in Fayette County, West Virginia, the heart and soul of West
Virginia's whitewater rafting tourism industry. Thousands and thousands
of people come here every year to raft the New and Gauley Rivers. They
roar down gorges as old as the earth itself, past the ghost towns that
are all that's left of the mine wars of a century ago; towns where Mary
Harris "Mother" Jones worked to organize the slaves of the coal
industry: Thurmond and Glen Jean and Brooklyn and Cunard and Hawks Nest
and Prince and McKendry; places that are little more than wide mossy
spots by the riverside, with a few squared stones marking where entire
generations played out. These are the Tombstones and Dodge Citys of
Appalachia.
One of the best things about the hundred or so book festivals in
America is that, with luck, a writer can manage to get drunk with some
of his or her readers. And with more luck, the readers pick up the tab.
Bear in mind that 90% of all real writers, people for whom writing is
their sole income, spend much of their time counting their change in
the rest room of the hotels where they are being put up while on tour.
Believe me, there are better rackets than writing.
