Libya's Manmade Underground River: How one crazy dictator could make the desert bloom

I don't have much to discuss about this article, but I figured I'd share it with all of you because it is just so incredible.  If you didn't know by now, Libya's dictator, Muammar Qaddafi, is a bit of a megalomaniac,  lavishly spending the country's oil money on himself and his family rather than addressing the needs and concerns of his country's citizens.  But Qaddafi has always been committed to Libya's future as well, as the country's well being is a reflection of his leadership.  To this end, his government has been using oil money to fund a pipeline to carry a commodity more precious to the country than oil:  water.  Tapping into a vast prehistoric underground aquifer, the country stands poised to bring its citizens enough H20 to irrigate the country for years and years.

I won't go into too much more detail from here; the article explains the semantics behind the pipeline a lot more thoroughly than I can.  But it's definitely worth a read.

And just in case you didn't know, the U.S. has its own version of Libya's aquifer.  The Ogallala Aquifer stretches across 8 Midwestern states and is the source of much of the water for Midwest farmers today.  Water levels have been lowering because of overcomsumption due to agricultural methods and personal use, but recent efforts have begun to be implemented by Midwestern states with the hopes of preserving the aquifer for future generations.

Eccentric Baltimore Mansions, Part 1: Alexandroffsky

For those of you who don't know, I hail from and currently reside in Baltimore.  I love my city;  from the twofers of Natty Boh before Orioles games at Pickle's Pub, to the seafood and liberal application of Old Bay on all four food groups, Baltimore's quirks and foibles have created many fond memories for me.  Granted, Baltimore is more like The Wire than most of us locals would care to admit, but the city definitely has its share of high life and resultant town gossip that comes with it.  I've decided to explore the finer side of Baltimore by taking a look at the stories and history around the most stark reminders of its class:  the mansions that dot the landscape in and around the town.  The first mansion I'll take a look at actually doesn't exist anymore.  Demolished in the 1920's, its site is now occupied by a parking lot and assorted shops and offices.  But in its heyday the mansion that stood there marked the opulence and excess that characterized many Rust Belt cities in the Gilded Age.  Its name?  Alexandroffsky.

Alexandroffsky was conceived in the mid 1800's by a railroad tycoon, Thomas Winans, who decided to build a "winter palace" in downtown Baltimore, and modeled it after the palaces he had seen while working to build a railroad between Moscow and St. Petersburg.  Finished on February 24, 1852, the house was certainly not without every possible amenity of its time:  the house had its own industrial-grade heating plant on the grounds, fountains and statuary dotted the gardens.  There were stables for the horses, and even a house for Mr. Winans' collection of black swans.  The art collection was such that at least one guidebook writer remarked that the collection "would do credit to the home of a European prince."

Alas, all this luxury was quite disconcerting to a city raised to expect a blue-collar lifestyle.  The risque Greco-Roman statues proved to be too much for the local populace to view as they passed by.  Eventually, someone made their displeasure of the mansion's grounds known to the City Council, and Mr. Winans erected a high wall all around the compound as his response. This only served to increase the rumors about the intrigue associated with the mansion.   It wasn't until the 1920s, when the family, who by this time were alternating residences between Baltimore and Newport, R.I., finally opened Alexandroffsky's walls for a charity function.  The house was soon sold off, and its items auctioned to the highest bidder.  Before it was demolished by the city, the house was used for "football rushes, wrestling matches, and track meets..."  The site remained a vacant lot until the 1960's or so, when urban renewal came in and created the developments we see today.

The rise and fall of Alexandroffsky provides a window into a past that many Baltimoreans themselves are unfamiliar with.  Baltimore had its own Gilded Age tycoons, and those tycoons left their mark on the city long after they passed on or moved away.  Mansions give us a look into the lives of the super rich, and allow us to imagine our lives in their shoes.  Unfortunately for us, this glimpse into the past is gone now, but other mansions within Baltimore remain, ready to share their stories with us, as well.

Sources: The Baltimore Sun, Maryland Historical Society