Chairman Bijur announced that hernwould “ensure discrimination is wipedrnout.” (Why do so many of Bijur’s obiterrndicta sound like Hitler’s Tischgesprache?rnMust everything involve “wiping out”rnand “eradication”?)rnPaying the marauding Dane his Danegeldrnhas become an established part ofrnAmerican life. It is a pleasant fantasy tornimagine a public figure calling the racial,rngender, or sexuality bluff, and tellingrnprotesters and community “leaders” torngo to the devil. But so far no one has girtrnup the courage to offer spears for tributernwhen the Danes come a-raiding. I wonderrnif anyone will.rnPOSTSCRIPT: After telephoning arnnumber of Texaco gas stations, some inrnlargely black areas such as Newark, NewrnJersey, I found that business was largelyrnunaffected by the call for a boycott. It isrnespecially pleasing to note that, accordingrnto some (white) station owners, blackrncustomers had been buying extra gas inrnsupport of their neighborhood Texacornfranchise.rnMark Racho is a freelance writer inrnNew York.rnCOMMUNITYrnThe TrojanrnChickenrnby John VinsonrnAlbany, Kentucky, has a stay of executionrnfor at least a little longer. Butrnmore than a few townspeople are preparingrnto mourn her passing—and leavernbefore the funeral.rnAlbany is a town of 2,000 in the rollingrnlimestone hills of southern Kentucky,rnjust north of the Tennessee line. Foundedrnin the early 1820’s, it is an all-American,rnold-stock community. Like manyrnsuch communities in the South and thernHeartland, its agriculture-based economyrnis not providing the jobs necessaryrnto keep young people at home. So, likernso many of these other communities, Albanyrnhas advertised for industry to comernto town. To make the offer attractive,rnit held out the usual tax incentives. Onernin particular was an “EmpowermentrnZone,” a federal program pushed by thernClinton administration to promote ruralrndevelopment.rnSeeing a good deal, the Cagle’s poultryrnprocessing company made a bidrnto build a plant, but the deal offeredrnAlbany more than it ever bargained for.rnIn the words of Don Corleone, it was anrnoffer Albany couldn’t refuse. The town’srnpolitical establishment wanted it, andrnthat was that—despite the sentiments ofrnmany average citizens.rnThe deal proposed to bring 1,600 jobsrnto town. The trouble is that the localrnunemployment rate is only 350 or so.rnWhere would the rest of the workersrncome from? Given the recent history ofrnCagle’s and other poultry processors, thernanswer most likely is importing ThirdrnWorld immigrants—many reputed to bernillegal aliens.rnOne local resident, who asked to remainrnunidentified, commented thatrnsuch an influx would ruin Albany.rn”What is at stake here,” he maintained,rn”is the quality of life in our town. If thatrnplant comes here, it’s gone forever.” Hernasked to remain anonymous because hernand others who have protested have receivedrndeath threats and had their propertyrndestroyed. “I was born here andrngrew up here. My family has been herernsince the I840’s, but probably I’ll choosernto leave. A rural ghetto is all that’s goingrnto be left.” In a lighter vein he added,rn”This whole thing reminds me of thernstory of the Trojan Horse. Here you havernthe Trojan Chicken. You accept it as arngift, and the next thing you know, you’rerntaken over.”rnNed Smith, a local farmer, does notrnmind making his case in public againstrnthe plant. He heads an opposition grouprncalled Friends of Lake Cumbedand andrnDale Hollow. “The plant promoters,”rnsaid Smith, “have tried to give the idearnthat we’re against jobs. That’s not true.rnWe need jobs, but chickens aren’t thernanswer.” He describes work in the plantsrnas low-paying and dangerous. “After arnwhile,” he observed, “even the foreignersrnquit, and the company has to keeprnimporting more. This doesn’t offer anythingrnto local people.”rnWith the immigrants come more taxesrnto provide them services, such as bilingualrneducation for their children. Smithrnknows because he visited a communityrnin Georgia which has a Cagle’s plant.rn”We just don’t have the money or the infrastructurernto support something likernthis.” More crime, he learned, will be arnproblem, too.rnAnother great concern to Smith andrnthe other opponents is pollution fromrnthe plant. They maintain that its wasternwill contaminate the local water supply.rnMany environmentalists agree. Citingrnthe threat to water quality, the KentuckyrnSierra Club opposes the plant.rnThe danger of pollution now offersrnthe only possibility that Cagle’s will notrncome to Albany. The company stillrnneeds permits to clear all the environmentalrnhurdles—thus the stay of execution.rnBut Smith and the others are notrnoptimistic because they lack the clout ofrnCagle’s and Albany’s powers-that-be.rn”They’re also determined becausernthey see money to be made from thernplant,” explained the man who asked tornremain anonymous. He described thernEmpowerment Zone as “corporate welfare.”rnWhat eventually happens to Albanyrnis of little concern to the chickenrnprocessor, he added. As for Albany’srnpowers-that-be, “They can leave andrnprobably will,” if too many problemsrncome to town.rnIn a significant number of Heartlandrnand Southern towns, the future Albanyrnfears is already coming to pass, thanks tornthe policies of poultry, beef, and porkrnprocessors. There the majority of nativebornrnresidents must endure the ThirdrnWorldization of their communities, asrntheir taxes subsidize the social costs ofrnthe plants’ cheap labor profiteering.rnBut some local people like thernchanges. These changes, to cite a few examples,rnbring more profits for slum-trailerrnlandlords who rent to immigrants,rnmore pupils for educators, more clientsrnfor social services, and more opportunitiesrnfor secular and religious do-goodersrnto revel in multiculturalism.rnUntil recently, plants in such communitiesrnhired local people, and, in the casernof the upper Midwest, paid good wagesrnto a unionized work force. In the Southrnthe wages weren’t often as good, but thernjobs at least provided unskilled whitesrnand blacks with a chance to earn a living.rnThings changed during the 1970’srnand 80’s, as the nation began losing controlrnof its borders and legalized immigrationrnsoared toward record levels. A bonanzarnof cheap, serf-like labor was arntemptation too great for many a greedyrnbusinessman. Soon existing plants filledrnwith immigrants, and new plants werernsure to hire them too.rnAs time went on, some communitiesrnbecame wary of processing plants. OnernFEBRUARY 1997/39rnrnrn