When traveling, I’ve noticed that some states frequently use the term “the law” while others use the term “our law”.
The philosophical divide between “the law” and “our law” usually comes down to whether you see rules as external commands or internal commitments.
1. “The Law” (Positivism & Universalism)
This term views the legal system as an objective, external entity.
Source of Authority: It is “out there”—a set of rules handed down by a sovereign or a legislature.
The Mindset: It treats the law as a tool or a barrier. It is something you must follow because it is the rule, regardless of whether you personally agree with it or feel it belongs to you.
The Vibe: Technical and detached. It emphasizes the letter of the law and its power to regulate behavior from the outside in.
2. “Our Law” (Social Contract & Originalism)
This term views the legal system as a collective possession or an extension of the people’s will.
Source of Authority: It comes from “us.” This is the philosophy of the Social Contract—we agreed to these rules to live together, so they belong to our community.
The Mindset: It frames the law as a shared inheritance. When a judge says “our law,” they aren’t just citing a rulebook; they are referencing a living tradition and a specific identity.
The Vibe: Moral and participatory. It emphasizes the spirit of the law and the idea that the community has a duty to uphold it because it is part of their social fabric.
The Philosophical “Conflict”
In modern legal debates (like those in the U.S. Supreme Court), using “Our Law” is often a signal for Originalism. It’s the idea that the law isn’t just whatever the current government says it is (“The Law”), but rather a specific, fixed set of principles that “We the People” established and have lived under for centuries.
I concede maybe that’s a good thing, in he sense that too many people back in the day had burn barrels, tossed all their burnable trash in it, lit it with a match and walked away, allowing plastics and other chemicals in their trash to smolder away for half the day ruining many a nice country night for people who lived downwind.
There’s a reason why they call the smoke from smoldering burn barrels hillbilly incense, as you drive those back roads in Pennsylvania with those windows rolled down – or a million other back roads in Red States. It can be kind of nasty – as they say burning toxic trash is a national past time out in the country. Probably is, people like fire and not hauling all their burnable garbage to the transfer station and spending a bunch of money to get rid of it. It’s fun to watch things burn.
I always told myself for years when I moved back to the country, built my off-grid homestead I’d move to a free state where there wasn’t all those restrictions on open burning. But alas it seems like I’m settling in New York State with my good paying professional career. I’ll have land where I can have campfires and bonfires, and I’m thinking about becoming a volunteer firefighter.
The truth is I don’t want to burn toxic waste. I want to burn things that I can use the ash on my garden and to enhance my land and restore soil fertility. It’s not like I generate that much trash, especially now that I’m into healthy eating. A lot more of my trash now is compost, it belongs in a compost pile with manure, leaves and waste paper. I also am more concerned about fire risk, soon to be the owner of a homestead that I designed, built and put much of my hard earned money into. I don’t want my neighbors smoldering trash fire to become my wildfire.
It’s not to say I won’t burn things or have lots of fires. But it won’t be in a burning barrel or involve burning excessive amounts of toxic plastics, especially things like PVC lead coated wire or ABS plastics used in electronics and structural plastics. Somethings, unfortunately if you can’t reuse them are best for the landfill. And a lot of things don’t burn well at any rate, despite us rednecks of the world trying to burn everything we can.
I do think I’ll save most paper and cardboard to burn, along with film plastics, wrappers and feed bags. They’re excellent starters for campfires and bonfires and if you’re regularly having fires your unlikely to accumulate much. Burn it hot with minimal smell or smoke. Sit back and enjoy a cold beer while enjoying the fire. I figure if I’m building on raw land, going to have a lot of brush and leftover wood scrap to burn, providing many a nice summer night out in the country. Plus some junk mail is good for starting woodstove fires.
A combination of composting, eating healthy, producing my own food, burning non-toxic trash and compressing recyclables such a hard plastics and cans for taking to the transfer station, my hope is to get it down to the point where I can visit the transfer station maybe twice a year – to participate in urban recycling, get rid of broken appliances that can’t be repaired and other toxic trash. I don’t plan to produce a lot of trash nor do I plan to burn much – just papers and wrappers for starting fires.
Located deep within the remote wilderness of the southern Adirondacks in the town of Arietta, Powley Place—often historically spelled “Pauley Place”—stands as a significant site in the environmental and social history of New York. Its story mirrors the broader transition of the Adirondack region from a landscape of early agricultural homesteads to a premier destination for wilderness sports and, eventually, a strictly protected forest preserve.
Early Settlement and Farming
The area first appeared in official records in the 1870 Agricultural census for Arietta, listed as the farm of John Powley. Valued at three hundred dollars, the homestead included 35 acres of improved land and 100 acres of woodlot. John lived there with his wife Rosetta and their children, supporting the family through modest livestock holdings including milk cows and oxen. At that time, the site was a functional island of agriculture in a sea of forest, producing grass and hay to sustain the family and their few laborers.
The Lodge and Sporting Era
By the late 19th century, the property began its transformation into a renowned sportsman’s lodge and hotel. As interest in hunting and fishing in the Adirondacks grew, the buildings at Powley Place became a hub for outdoor enthusiasts.
Management Transitions: Ownership and management shifted through several hands, including Albert Dunning and his wife Cora, who were renting the lodge by 1898.
State Acquisition: When New York State began aggressively purchasing land for the Forest Preserve, the property was sold to the state by 1900.
Squatter Tenure: Interestingly, despite the state taking title, former residents were often allowed to remain as “squatters” to provide essential lodging and services for the influx of sportsmen. In fact, Albert Dunning was even appointed by the state as a game warden to prevent timber theft while continuing to run the lodge.
Fire and Final Removal
The physical history of Powley Place was punctuated by fire and rebuilding. In the early 1900s, while under the management of Frank Fournia, a fire destroyed the main lodge. It was eventually rebuilt and operated by brothers Fred and Harry Fish as a lodging place for hunters until the mid-1910s.
The end of the permanent structures at Powley Place came in the autumn of 1917. As part of the state’s “Forever Wild” mandate, which sought to remove commercial structures and return the wilderness to its natural state, the hotel and lodge were torn down. This marked the conclusion of its era as a settled homestead and commercial outpost.
Modern Legacy
Today, Powley Place is a popular landmark on the Powley-Piseco Road, an unpaved, 17-mile seasonal road that cuts through the Ferris Lake Wild Forest. The site remains a favorite for:
Natural Beauty: It is home to “the Potholers,” a series of rapids and cascades on East Canada Creek where loose stones have carved deep holes in the flat bedrock over centuries.
Recreation: It serves as a starting point for hiking, camping, and fishing, preserved as a wilderness area for public use.
Though the buildings are long gone, the name Powley Place endures as a testament to the resilient pioneers and the early sporting culture that defined the southern Adirondacks.
President Donald Trump on Saturday appeared to complain that federal officials are “slow-walking” following through on an executive order he issued to complete the process of federally rescheduling marijuana.
“You’re going to get the rescheduling done, right, please? Will you get the rescheduling done, please?” Trump said, seeming to speak to a Department of Justice or White House official during an event in the Oval Office on Saturday. “You know, they’re slow-walking me on rescheduling. You’re going to get it done, right?”
The president did not specifically mention cannabis, and it’s not immediately clear who the official he was speaking to is, but it has been four months since he directed the attorney general to complete the process of moving marijuana from Schedule I of the Controlled Substances Act (CSA) to Schedule III “in the most expeditious manner.” That hasn’t yet occurred, however.
