The Origin of Brother Bull

There are places in this country where 36 inches of rain falls each year. Imagine that: where rich black topsoil covers level fields, where GPS-controlled, air-conditioned tractors are the only visitors, and where subsidy money falls from heaven just like that generous, regular precipitation. That's not where we are by any stretch. But we haven’t forgotten—we have family lore about these rich lands, from back before we were pushed into the high deserts in the west. And we’re thinking it’s time we got back to that Eden before it’s irreversably damaged.

With only 5-12 inches of rainfall, long winters, and high winds, row crops have always been out of the question here. Unlike the dirt farmers in the Midwest, we never had a chance to become dependent on government subsidies, synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, or herbicides. We’ve seen what that’s done to the people in the fertile farms of the Midwest and it’s not pretty: rivers and groundwater so polluted they’re not safe to drink; excess fertilizer flows downstream, creating a dead zone the size of Texas in the Gulf of Mexico; herbicides and pesticides pollute and destroy natural ecosystems; insects and birds are decimated; livestock are kept indoors in tiny cages, or in pens knee-deep in manure. 40% of corn is used for ethanol and 36% is used to feed confined livestock—both practices far worse for the environment than the alternatives. This green and fertile land is now a desert of biodiversity, and when the last of the topsoil is blown away or eroded downstream, it will become a literal desert.