Windmills: Progress or Plunder? — The Constitutional Case Against Forced Wind Development

 Windmills: Progress or Plunder? — The Constitutional Case Against Forced Wind Development 

Chapters

• 0:01 Opening: Credibility And Service
• 0:36 Combat Injury And AI Adaptation
• 2:07 Pivot To Energy Projects In Arizona
• 3:15 Costs, Agencies, And Rural Impact
• 4:35 Stop Lava Run And Accountability Gaps
• 5:45 Consent Theater And Public Process
• 6:48 Doctrine Of Rural Protectionism
• 8:19 Policy Guardrails And Local Benefit
• 9:21 Deadline: Public Comment On Oct 15
• 10:20 Legacy, Stewardship, And Sovereignty
• 12:00 Participation Over Spectatorship
• 13:05 Local Energy Ownership And Microgrids
• 14:30 Progress With Integrity, Not Permission
• 15:25 The Oath, Liberty, And Daily Discipline

Transcript

SPEAKER_01: 0:01

Some talk about leadership, others live it. Walt Blackman has done both: from leading soldiers through the heat of Iraq to standing alone on the House floor for what's right. He's proven that courage isn't a slogan, it's a standard. The first black Republican in Arizona history to serve in the legislature, Walt brings truth without apology and conviction without compromise. Welcome to the Walt Blackman Show, where integrity still has a voice. This is Truth with Backbone, forged by service and guided by the Constitution.

SPEAKER_02: 0:36

Before we get started today, I want to share something real with you. Something about the man behind this microphone. During my deployment in Iraq, my convoy was hit by an improvised explosive device, an IED that tore through steel, fire, and dust. It could have killed every one of us, but by the grace of God it didn't. My soldiers came home. Some returned missing limbs, others came back with scars no one could see, PTSD, shattered bones, traumatic brain injuries. I came home with one of those invisible wounds myself, a TBI that I live with every single day. The truth is you don't leave war behind. You carry it. You carry it through sleepless nights in the noise that never truly fades, and in the faces that still return when the world goes quiet. But pain doesn't define you, purpose does. That's why I use A I Recognized under the Americans with Disabilities Act, technology that helps me speak clearly and honestly, preserving what the blast tried to take. There's no spin here, no polish, just truth. Because wounded warriors don't stop serving. We adapt. We find new ways to lead, new ways to fight for what's right. This isn't perfection, it's perseverance. It's the sound of a soldier still standing, still speaking, still serving, in a different uniform on a different battlefield. This is the Walt Blackman show, Truth, Integrity, and Courage Without Compromise. Let's get to work. When the subsidies expire and the companies move on, what remains are not towns but fields of steel and fiberglass. Turbine blades that can't be recycled, buried like broken promises, solar panels leaching cadmium into the same soil they claim to save. The agencies approving this, BLM, the Corporation Commission, D EQ, APS, F E R C, each has its specialists, lawyers, and consultants. Rural citizens have none. Costs rise, bills climb, profits leave. Your electric bill funds their narrative of virtue. Urban centers absorb the power, foreign investors absorb the profit, and rural Arizona absorbs the consequence. Dust, noise, erosion, and sovereignty lost. Energy is currency. Whoever controls transmission controls economy. Whoever controls economy controls policy. That's not sustainability, that's domination in disguise. And when influence replaces representation, the governed lose consent. That's where we stand today. There is a movement growing. Ordinary citizens reading the fine print, tracking every turbine, every trench, every dollar. They call themselves Stop Lava Run. They are not radicals, they are realists. Ranchers, teachers, veterans, elders, people who have learned that progress without accountability is just profit with better public relations. They've discovered that reclamation bonds, the promises to restore the land, often vanish when corporations restructure. Projects start with ribbon cuttings and end with rust. Counties are left holding paper. Communities are left holding dust. Each time the lesson is ignored. When profit leaves faster than accountability, development becomes depletion. That's not growth, that's erosion. Not just of economics, but of trust and of the Constitution itself. Consent of the governed has become theater. Impact statements no one reads. Hearings held when working people can't attend. The illusion of inclusion, the simulation of democracy. Real participation isn't about paperwork, it's about presence. It's about neighbors who care enough to question the script before the ink dries. Even the math doesn't lie. Electric rates rise, not fall, costs are socialized, profits privatized, the city gains, the country pays. That's not economics, that's exploitation. Sustainability without accountability is just branding. That's why I call for a doctrine of rural protectionism, not obstruction, but preservation, a principle that defends the people who defend the land. Community benefit agreements must be binding, not symbolic. Water use audited by independent scientists, reclamation bonds secured by the state, not corporate promises, oversight handled by universities, not lobbyists, and tax revenue must stay where the burden lives in the counties that bear the weight. If we get this right, Arizona becomes a model for responsible energy independence. If we fail, we become another cautionary tale of what happens when sovereignty is leased. October 15th is the final day for public comment. The last open door before silence becomes consent. This is not obstruction, this is participation. Speak now, because when you remain silent, someone else writes your future. Our children will live with the choices we make in these few short weeks. They'll inherit the contracts, the debt, the noise, the sky. Will they look back and see courage or convenience? I've seen what unchecked power does overseas. Now I see it here: quieter, cleaner, cloaked in policy instead of uniform. It's still conquest, just rebranded, colonization without armies. Our children deserve inheritance with integrity, freedom, not fallout, dignity, not damage, a home, not a headline. The battle over lava run is not about energy. It's about identity. It asks whether we will sell our spine or stand our ground, whether Arizona's future will be renewable and respectful, or reckless and regrettable. Progress that tramples principle is surrender dressed as innovation. We are not against progress. We are for integrity, for sovereignty, for the simple idea that the people who live on the land should have a voice in its fate. Legacy isn't built by technology, it's built by truth. What we defend today becomes the memory our grandchildren inherit. If we lose that memory, we lose the meaning of home. The desert doesn't forget, and neither should we. What our children inherit won't be written by politicians or corporations. It will be written by the people who stood their ground when it mattered. The land remembers those who kept faith with it, who refused to look away when convenience offered comfort. This fight isn't about turbines or transmission lines. It's about legacy, about what will remain when the machines fall silent. Will we have left behind a home worth defending? Legacy isn't measured in megawatts or tax credits. It's measured in trust, in stewardship, in the quiet integrity of those who kept their promise to the land. It's in the father teaching his child why the earth matters, the mother telling her daughter that freedom is a gift you protect with both hands. If we lose that understanding, we lose everything. Because when the last tower rusts and the last well runs dry, the damage won't just be economic, it will be spiritual. We are stewards of a covenant written not in ink, but in earth, and the time to defend it is now. Our children deserve to inherit a home that still feels like theirs, where the stars still belong to the sky and the silence of the desert still carries the voice of freedom. I am Walt Blackman, soldier, citizen, constitutionalist. I've seen what happens when unchecked power decides it knows better than the people it serves. I'm not asking for agreement. I'm asking for awareness. Think, read, speak, because every great republic is tested not by its enemies, but by its apathy. Freedom doesn't renew itself. It must be chosen, guarded, and spoken aloud. Sometimes that means saying no when the world insists on yes. Keep the line firm, keep the republic honest. Remember, the office is always bigger than the occupant. Because the moment we forget that truth, we stop being citizens and start becoming spectators. And this nation, this republic, was it was never built for spectators. It was built for participants. Wherever you are, in a rural Arizona or anywhere the horizon still means something, your voice matters. Your land matters. As long as there are people willing to speak, the republic will stand. Every challenge that threatens freedom also reveals the path to renew it. The same determination that built ranches, towns, and highways can rebuild trust in the system that governs them. We don't need to tear down institutions. We need to remind them who they serve. True energy independence begins not in Washington or Madrid, but right here, in the local grid, the community cooperative, the family willing to invest in its own resilience. Solar panels on roofs, microgrids owned by counties, battery banks managed by schools, small steps that keep power, profit, and accountability within reach. When citizens become producers instead of dependents, control shifts back to the people. This isn't anti-industry, it's pro-integrity. It's a return to the founding idea that those closest to the consequence should hold the authority. America doesn't need foreign permission to power its future. It needs courage and common sense. Imagine rural Arizona training veterans to maintain small-scale wind or solar systems, paying local wages, keeping revenue in local banks. Imagine school districts generating their own electricity using savings to fund classrooms instead of contracts. That's patriotism with a plug. Innovation rooted in self-reliance. When people are given ownership, they protect what they build. When they are excluded, they resist. It's that simple. The doctrine of rural protectionism isn't about saying no forever. It's about saying yes on our terms. Because stewardship without sovereignty is just servitude in disguise. I believe we can have both progress and preservation, innovation and identity, but only if every Arizonan, every American demands transparency from the top and participation from the ground up. That's how a republic repairs itself. Not by waiting for rescue, but by remembering responsibility. The spirit that settled this desert still burns, disciplined, patient, relentless. It's the same spirit that can light a new era of energy independence without selling our soul. I often think about the oath I took, not to a man, not to a party, but to a constitution. That promise doesn't expire when you leave the battlefield or the capital. It follows you home. It follows you into every decision that touches liberty. Freedom isn't a gift handed down. It's a discipline we practice daily. It lives in the way we treat our neighbors, the honesty we demand from our leaders, and the courage we find when the crowd turns away. We talk about renewable energy, but the most renewable power on earth is the will of a free people. It cannot be taxed, bought, or legislated out of existence. It only dies when we stop exercising it. Every generation inherits the unfinished work of the last. Ours is to protect the resources that sustain life, the principles that define it, and the unity that gives it meaning. Look around you. The mesas, the wind, the silence. These are not obstacles to progress. They are the reasons for it. The land doesn't need saving, it needs respect. If we can build machines that capture sunlight, surely we can build systems that capture fairness. If we can harness wind, we can harness wisdom. The republic isn't a place. It's a promise, a covenant between those who came before and those who will come after. Our duty is to keep that promise alive, to speak for the voiceless ground beneath our feet and the generations yet unborn. The strength of this nation doesn't come from the height of its towers, but from the depth of its roots, roots in principle, roots in truth. I believe in that strength because I've seen it in soldiers, in farmers, in mothers who raise their children to stand tall when standing is hard. So if you're listening out under that wide desert sky, remember this your voice still matters. One letter, one comment, one conversation, it all counts. It all builds. That's how liberty lives by use. And don't let anyone tell you this fight is too big. Freedom is always bigger. And as long as we protect it together, in as neighbors, as citizens, as Americans, the Republic will not fade. So take care of the land, take care of each other, and take care of the truth. Because someday, someone will ask what we did when the horizon called. Let the answer be simple. We stood our ground. You've been listening to The Walt Blackman Show, where truth stands tall, courage speaks freely, and the Constitution still leads the way. If you're ready for more unfiltered conversations about leadership, liberty, and the real fight for America's future, follow and subscribe wherever you listen on Amazon Music, Audible, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeartRadio, Player FM, and YouTube. To go deeper into my story, from the battlefields of Iraq to the floor of the Arizona House of Representatives, grab a copy of my book, From Iraq to the State House, a soldier's journey of leadership, service, and sacrifice available now on Amazon and Audible. It's a story about duty, faith, and the price of standing for what's right in combat, in politics, and in life. For full episodes, articles, and updates, visit the Walt Blackman Show.com and connect with me directly on Facebook, Instagram, X Twitter, and Rumble at Walt Blackman Show. I release new episodes every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, bringing you honest conversations about leadership, freedom, and the principles that built this nation. I'm Walt Blackman. Until next time, stay informed, stay engaged, and never forget freedom isn't free. It only survives when we use it.

SPEAKER_00: 15:06

FTC Disclosure. Parts of this broadcast were produced using AI-assisted technology approved under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Walt Blackman, a disabled combat veteran living with a traumatic brain injury sustained in Iraq, uses AI to help translate his voice and message with precision. This is not automation, it's adaptation. The technology allows him to continue leading, serving, and speaking with clarity and purpose. This disclosure is provided in full compliance with FTC transparency standards.