Monday, August 6, 2007

The Maharishi Vedic City Blues

Just a quick update on Maharishi Vedic City (a.k.a. Maharishiville) and their attempted use of eminent domain that I blogged about earlier HERE and HERE. The Jefferson County Board of Supervisors passed a bill stating they were against Maharishiville taking the Palm farm using eminent domain for the purpose of building a city park outside of town. The board later declined to issue another bill stating they were against the Palm's building a hog operation on the farm saying it set a bad precedent for what private citizens could do with their own land. The Maharishi still haven't given up and tried to get the Jefferson County School Board to rule and they rightfully declined to consider the matter since it has nothing to do with running schools other than to eliminate some money from their funds due to the tax exempt status of city parks.

In yesterday's paper, the Palms graciously submitted the legal document for public review that the Maharishi want him to sign basically stating that the Palms give up the right to practice agriculture on their 150 acres of agricultural land for the next 20 years. From the accompanying letter, I don't think they are going to sign it which means that the Maharishi are going to have to take this to court to use eminent domain.

But by far the most humorous thing to happen out of all this is that a song has been written about the whole situation and can be listened to via the Internet. The lyrics have been posted below for your enjoyment.




“The Maharishi Vedic City Blues”
By Tony Arnold @
Gray Mortuary Recordings

A hundred years before
The Maharishis came to town,
One family’s farm began to feed
Its neighbors from the ground.
They’re trying to run the family off—
“…and we’ll pay you for your pain,
but if you don’t sell, we’ll steal it.
It’s called eminent domain.”

The cult that came to Iowa
Bought a school, and then the town.
They tried to take a family’s farm
So they could tear it down.
But not a single one had worn
A pair of working shoes…
It’s food for thought, those
Maharishi Vedic City Blues.

There’s too much history, too much at stake:
The farmer needs a living, the farmer needs a break.
There’s no consideration, no common sense:
Just too much fiber, too much incense.

When they started talking Sanskrit
It was more scarier than funny;
Declared themselves all organic,
And even printed their own money.
It didn’t matter the town attorney
Was in bed with the little mayor:
They were all in league to screw the man
With the farm that was already there.

The nuts that came to Iowa
Preached “expansion” and “ideals,”
But all they really seem to do
Is meditate their shady deals.
But peace-nazis don’t ever want
To walk in another’s shoes…
It’s food for thought, these
Maharishi Vedic City Blues.

There’s too much history, too much at stake:
The farmer needs a living, the farmer needs a break.
There’s no consideration, no common sense:
Just too much fiber, too much incense

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