Bad Mother-Fracker By Roland Hulme

Ladies, and gentlemen - hello.

My name is Vincent - and I am very excited that you have all joined me tonight to save the world.

I am a representative of the other 99%. The folk who just have to live in it.

You environmentalists? Well, you're the reason you've got sons of bitches like me.

My name is Vincent, and I am everything your parents warned you about.

I am the hunting, fishing, NRA-license holding, truck-driving, never-been-to-college guy who earns six figures on TOP of what you make with your fancy college degree. And I STILL choose to dress like this.

I am everything they told you that you couldn't be when you were in school. Study hard, they said. Do well in your exams. Get a good job. Buy a house with a white-picket-fence - and how is THAT working out for you?

I have a Ford F-250 outside that could fit your Prius in the bed of it. I have my mortgage paid, my pantry full, and enough left over for pay-per-view on Sunday. I am living the DREAM that your parents promised you.

So, how is that? What do I do that lets me live your dreams?

My friends, I'm a fracker.

I'm a MOTHER-fracker.

I am a sneak-up-on-mother-nature and shove-my-pipe-so-far-up-her-hillocks that she SQUEALS mother-fracker - and in being so, I'm living the life that your parents only promised you.

So, how is this?

Well, it's because your parents lied to you, kids.

They said that being SMART was the key to abundance. They said that INTELLIGENCE ruled the world. Well, they didn't know a goddamn thing.

One thing rules this world, my friends - and that's VALUE.

Provide value, and receive compensation. That's the way the world works. I've seen people as dumb as rocks succeed when they figure that out, and I've seen the smartest motherfuckers in the world die in their armchairs because they thought the universe owed them something for being so smart.

So, what about me. What makes ME so special?

I ain't smart. I'm a college dropout from Washington state who used to run cables for a living. But I know how to follow instructions, I can figure shit out, and I don't mind getting my hands dirty - and THAT'S why I go home with my pockets full at the end of every two-week rotation.

They were hiring out in the flatlands for strong hands - and that's how I ended up a fracker; and I've never looked back since.

It's hard work, don't get me wrong. I've seen a guy lose his whole hand when one of the pressure gauges tripped. I swear to God, I ain't never been colder than a December day in the plains - ankle deep in frozen water, and wearing gloves so your hands didn't stick to the pipes.

But as I said - I go home to a full week off with money in my pocket. No unpaid internship for me. No entry level positions. No unpaid overtime, or working on the weekends. Just hard cash for hard work; and more of it than any of you college-educated motherfuckers will see until your thirties.

And for what? For getting my hands dirty, right? For doing the work your college-educated kind are too good to do.

I mean, you're all waving placards in the street when it comes to fracking in the county near you - but that thermostat drops below 75 and it's MY door you’re knocking on.

States like Washington promise NO FRACKING - but they're happy enough to pump the proceeds in from Utah and Alberta.

Y'all are happy to wallow in the dirt, as long as you can pretend your hands are clean; and that's why I earn what I do, and why you mother fuckers are so confused by it.

I don't look at it from a moral perspective. I look at it from a position that moms gotta cook, and dads gotta crank up the thermostat. Y'all can talk about your sustainable energy until the cows come home, but when the nights get cold it's still MY shit that's warming your radiators.

And that's the reality you've got to face. Before you destroy the old, you've got to build the new - and none of you motherfucker are doing that.

Which is why you rely on us mother FRACKERS. We subsidize your bullshit.

We send our crawling cranes out into the flatlands, and they plunge their proboscis into mother nature's flesh like a diesel-powered tick. Then, they pump her full just like a tick would; only of dirty water that spits out natural gas in exchange; which our pumps suck down like a parasite guzzles blood...

Sounds bad, doesn't it? Stabbing the Earth and pumping it full? Seeing what you don't suck up run off into the rivers and streams?

Shit, in some parts of the country, fracking's made it so you can light the water from your faucet on fire.

But you know what? That's where the 76 on your thermostat comes from. That's your mac and cheese on the stove at 6pm. That's why you live your lives the way you do - because of what you wordlessly demand I do, and what you complain so bitterly about after the fact.

You like movies? You anti-frackers remind me of that guy Renault, at the end of Casablanca. He closes down Rick's cafe because of gambling, and then collects his winnings right there in front of him. I kind of think the same way about you guys - when you rally against fracking in your state, and then post on Facebook to complain about the price of gas.

So, you've got to ask yourself - you want to stop fracking? Or do you just want to TALK about stopping fracking?

Because if it's the later, you fill your boots. I'll ignore your bullshit all day long, and still deliver the gas that warms your house with a smile on my face.

But if you guys are serious, you've got to get serious.

You've either got to go live in an unheated cave, and put me out of a job...

...or you've got to find a better solution, and give me a better job.

Because I'll take it. That's the thing,I don't think any of you fuckers understand. I'm not a mother-fracker because I want to pin down mother earth and rape her. I'm a fracker because I've got bills to pay, mouths to feed, and a Road King outside my wife and I take up country every third weekend of the month.

I'm a fracker because they pay me handsomely to be one - and they pay me with the money out of your pocket.

Start talking with your money, and frackers like me are going to listen.

You want alternative energy? Well, I want my heating bills to go down and my paycheck to go up. Promise that to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to deliver.

But the answer doesn't rest in saying no - it rests in saying yes.

Yes, to shit that works. Yes, to shit that heats your home and fills your car - and doesn't rape the earth while doing so.

Yes, to something that pays me for the skill of my hands and the sweat on my back. I LIKE working hard, I LIKE getting paid, and the only thing better is doing both of those things while feeling good about it.

That's what's missing, isn't it? The feeling good?

Because when I ‘ply my trade, I'll admit I don't feel good about it - and I'm not just talking about standing knee-deep in freezing water at 4am.

Nobody should feel right about what I do - but your hands are right there with mine every time to turn the thermostat.

You see, that's the thing. You turn up your nose as me because I'm a mother-fracker; but that's only because I'm the one in the yellow hard hat getting shit done.

In the shadows, you're a mother fracker too. You'd frack your own mother for a free gas-station hot dog. Don't look at me like that! I ain't lying - and if you wouldn't do it, there are plenty of mother-frackers who would. Millions of them.

They're the ones you've got to convince - not me. I'll go where the money is. I'll go where I can provide value. Find me an alternative and I'm there.

But right now? I'm a fracker - and while your lips might say otherwise, I know you're a fracker too.

Admit it.

I know you are - and I'm not judging by your words, but the size of your heating bill.

I'm not judging you by your bumper stickers, or which Democrat you're voting for. I'm judging you by whether or not you have to wear a sweater in your living room.

You might judge me, but I'm just a mirror, friend. I'm a reflection not of your words, but of your actions. The fact that I still have a job is because you're a secret fracker too; and if you really want to make a difference, it's not me you should be turning your nose up, but yourself.

Now, thank you. I've gotta get back to work - but you'll be pleased to hear I left that thermostat turned up nice and high, just the way you like it.

Goodnight.