BEYOND PETROLEUM

Given the continuing saga of the Gulf oil spill, news of dead zones and deceptive conduct by BP officials, and our helplessness in the face of catastrophe, perhaps we are at least due a moment of comic relief:

Credit: Nina Paley @ Voluntary Human Extinction

A special hat tip to our friend and rhyming

amphibian … (drum roll) … finefroghair.

don't say it.

Well, my mentor Dr. Syntax read Everything is on the Table today and liked it a great deal. Unfortunately he had a total breakdown this morning when the fellow in front of him in the Starbucks line said something about a Simplograndemochamacchimacchihalfcalfcrappochinofrappe with cinnamon to the Barista. I don't know which word set him off but they had to take him away in a basket and so I'm posting his response inspired by Sharia's post:

________________

Dear Americans,

There are so many more things you shouldn't be saying. But you keep at it, don't you?

It's not hopeless, you can change if you really want to. After all, you managed to pry yourself away from "efforting" not that long ago and if you keep trying you can stop pushing envelopes too and leave it to the mailman. The worn out engineering metaphor was about pushing the outside of a performance envelope anyway and you don't even know what that means, do you? Efforting -- don't you feel, well, effortless without it?

Yes, I know what you're saying and I know what you're talking about so you don't have to point out that everything you said or saw or liked was what you were talking about, OK? The same for you telling me about what you were like or are like when you were trying to tell me what you said. I already know what you're like what you said and what you've been talking about and I don't like it.

Believe me, I'm being tactful when I mention for the umpteenth time that intact is one word, not two and that you don't tow a metaphorical line, you toe it. So can you remember that, or do I have to get nasty? Because that actually is what I'm talking about -- and while we're about the word because it's because there never was a reason that was because anything. Let's pause and contemplate the cause of such confusion. That's if you want to know the reason that I said it not the reason why I said it. The reason is that I prefer to make sense and that preference takes precedence over my American desire to sound as unlettered and unfettered by logic as possible .

So you want to know your congressman's track record? So do I, because I don't want my congressman betting on the horses or dogs or anything else that runs on tracks. Track records are records one holds at the track or that the track keeps records of. One can have all kinds of records you know. Try saying congressional record or job record or any other kind of record you can think of -- please. You can simply stop saying track record like a broken record now and all of the above in one swoop and I don't care if the swoop is fell or kindly. Just stop.

Are you going green or are you already there? If so, get off my boat or take a Dramamine. It's fine if you turn lights off or drive a small car and commute a short distance and keep your cell phone charger unplugged, but that isn't making the oceans or rain forests any greener because you're not doing a damn thing when compared to what the cattle ranchers and the oil drillers are doing and that Wal-Mart you shop at burns up more Wal-Watts than all the SUVs in the parking lot just keeping the air conditioning cold enough so you won't smell the customers. Just save energy and leave it at that. Green is pretentious, don't pretend it isn't.

Wall Street Vs. Main Street? They don't measure up to Interstate 94, so lose the metaphor and cutesy dichotomy dude, cause it's my way or the highway says the cliche -- or maybe Rte A1A if you prefer the scenic route.

High Tech means absolutely nothing. It's a gimmick designed to make a gimmick more appealing to people who don't know how gimmicks work. It's not a useful comment. Stop saying it.

Did you know, by the way, that you can get close, or even up close without getting personal, and since you can also get personal without getting up close there isn't any reason to keep adding one unrelated action to another as though they were inseparable, is there? So why do you keep doing it?

I had a hard time with the Sunday crossword puzzle yesterday and I was outside on the patio and not in any kind of box, so thanks for your suggestion, but it doesn't help anyone think -- so stop saying it.

And last -- perhaps least perhaps not least, that's up to you -- stop trying to sound like a 14 year old street urchin, unless you are one -- and even then, hipness is only a type of conformity and there's nothing more cliche than a hipster of any age even a week out of date with his palette of cliche-of-the-day speech. It's OK to grow up. It's OK to sound like you are grown up (Not if you're running for office, of course) and have read books and don't need to paste together cutouts from other people's speech like someone writing a ransom note in some 30's cinema noir film.

It's OK to defeat someone without kicking their ass; to be bad at something without reference to fellatio and please, for God's sake don't open another can of whoop ass on me. It was out of date 30 years ago and smells like it.

I could go on, but my message is like simple and I'm like limiting the list in order to impactify it so that it will impact negatively on you in an impactful way and because like you know I can't do this all day without more coffee -- that's what I'm talking about.

-Dr. Syntax-

Kids in cages

"Children should neither be seen or heard from - ever again" said W.C. Fields.

Surprisingly, our activist Supreme Court has begged to differ. It was only five years ago that the Supreme Court finally decided that killing kids for justice was a bit behind the times, but of course some "Conservative" states have continued to sentence juveniles to life without parole. Chief amongst those states is Florida, which houses about 70% of them.

It would be hard to describe Florida as a particularly child-friendly state. Although I can't say it's particularly friendly to those who prey on them or neglect them, the poverty, substance abuse and ignorance that abound isn't child friendly either. Certainly "55 and older" communities are everywhere and as communities of older people are more likely to be afraid of the noise wild behavior and petty crime, there's a certain hostility. There's a certain feeling of helplessness and even terror amongst older people that can lead to hostility. It's a terror that overrides conscience in some cases and that sides with a draconian justice system while whimpering about a less powerful government.

Of course there's a big difference between chasing those brats off your lawn and locking them up in a cage for as long as they shall live, and that bit of casual inhumanity has at last drawn Supreme attention. Terrance Graham was implicated in armed robberies when he was a minor and has been sentenced to life in prison without possibility of parole. The court voted 5-4 on Monday and Kennedy, writing for the majority said:

"The state has denied him any chance to later demonstrate that he is fit to rejoin society based solely on a nonhomicide crime that he committed while he was a child in the eyes of the law. This the Eighth Amendment does not permit." (as a cruel punishment)

This decision was a majority one because Chief Justice Roberts sided for once with the liberals although with the qualification that it should not apply to all non-homicide crimes. That of course makes the decision less than decisive. It's a step forward, but a timid and qualified step toward humanity; toward sometimes, in some cases allowing a second chance to someone who got caught doing what millions of others have got away with and never done again. That's just the sort of thing conservatives object to: making the law and justice more congruent; making the law for man and not man for the law -- and that's just the reason we need to balance the angry, self righteous and fearful elements on the court.

Everything Is On The Table

by Nance

It was bound to happen sooner or later, and, like everything else to do with aging, it's happened sooner: I don't understand ninety-five percent of the trendy buzz phrases anymore. In fact, "buzz" is probably the last trendy term I'll ever fully embrace. At a certain age--mine, to be exact--that should be okay. Different strokes for different folks.


I'll be the linguistic equivalent of those old men I used to see in the late eighties who bagged groceries at the military commissary wearing Donald Trump comb-overs and baby blue polyester flare-bottoms with white pleated flare inserts that zipped down from knee to ankle. In 2023 I'll be using phrases I heard in 2004 and expecting somebody at the assisted living facility to compliment me on how hip I still am.  Past a certain age, we just don't take in new trends. We don't see the need; there have been plenty in the previous sixty or seventy years. When is enough, enough? I hereby declare a moratorium on catchy phrases.  Right on.


The Online Dictionary defines a buzz-phrase as, "A word or phrase connected with a specialized field or group that usually sounds important or technical and is used primarily to impress laypersons."  All you laypersons out there, are you impressed yet?  Insider jargon just gets my goat.*


The phrase that's been bugging me lately is, "Everything is on the table." I just can't seem to grok it no matter how I try. And neither, apparently, do most people who use it. I've been hearing about this laden table more and more frequently over the past few years, but it reached a personal tipping point (oh, dear) in April, when I heard Alan Simpson sling it into his gleeful, garbled, phrase-hashing announcement on the President's Budget Reduction Commission, which he'll co-chair with Erskine Bowles. From his NPR Talk of The Nation appearance on April 1st:

This is a suicide mission for a couple of old coots who believe more in their grandchildren than they do in other words, it's not the current election that's important, it's the next generation. So when we were asked to do this by the and Erskine, a very marvelous man, a splendid gentlemen, immediately the cry went out we were stalking horses for taxes. I said, I'm not a stalking horse for taxes. I'm a stalking horse for my grandchildren, and unless we get serious here, everything is on the table. So of course, you know, they come shrieking, you know, like the hounds of hell and the harpies from the cliff at me, and here, I've dug up my record on taxes, and I'm going to slip it right to them.

Those pronouncements had me as worried as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I'll bet Alan Simpson wears plaid bell-bottoms. As Rush Limbaugh has put it, "button your seat belts" for a full-frontal assault (dang it) on Medicare and Social Security. I think that Mr. Simpson is using the phrase everything is on the table, which came directly from Obama's instructions to his commission chairmen, to mean that, in a desperate search for solutions, no stone should be left unturned. Apparently, he was also instructed to pair off in threes, line up in a circle, alphabetically by height.  I'm afraid I don't think of Simpson as the sharpest marble in the drawer.  If he's older than me, I guarantee you he's a few bats short of a belfry.


Of course, now that we have the Obama administration's iconic metaphor, we'll be hearing it  from every middle manager 'til kingdom come.  "When the White House was asked if they might pause all off-shore drilling, Deputy Secretary of the Department of the Interior David Hayes admitted 'everything is on the table.'” And, "As House Ag Committee Chairman Peterson correctly said in announcing his panel's work on the U.S. farm bill -- everything is on the table."  I get it; this business with the table ain't coming up constantly because life is just a bowl of cherries these days; it's coming up because, when the going gets tough, the tough get going (choke).

I never expected to hear the table metaphor used in regards to condiments, however.  In responding to a call by the Institute of Medicine for federal limits on sodium levels in packaged foods,  FDA spokeswoman Meghan Scott stated, "Nothing is off the table,"  which I suppose to mean that everything is on the blessed table.  Ms. Scott is a pretty smart cookie, but I wouldn't want to be sitting in her shoes. She's already being accused of starting a riot in the chef's kitchen. Look for restaurant signs: This is a Salt-Free Environment. There'll be protest announcements on the Food Channel when the Himalayan Pink comes under attack.


And, finally, my odds-on favorite, from an anonymous officer of a financial services firm: "Everything is on the table now, and you can bet that when the smoke clears, budgets and processes will be a whole new animal."  You can't beat that one with a dead stick.


So, does everything is on the table mean that all the cards are on the table? That we're betting the farm?  That they'll be looking under every rock? It sounds suspiciously to me as though somebody in the President's speech-writer's pool has been watching a little too much Celebrity Poker Showdown.

Group Project:   Help me start a list of currently trendy phrases that need to be retired. So far, in addition to the laden table, I've got...
"That said,..."
"Back in the day"
"old school"
"unpack"
"deconstruct"
"drilling down on..." (my goodness!)


Contest:  How many buzz phrases, overused metaphors, twisted similes, etc., can you find in this post?  It's chock-a-block full of them. Some are cleverly disguised as proper usage and others are as obvious as the nose on your face. I know you can do it; it isn't rocket surgery. [The author will need a linguistics intervention after this.]


* In the Middle Ages, goats were put in stable stalls with nervous race horses to act as calming companions. The surest way to win a race was to steal your opponent's goat.

BRITISH PETROLEUM BLOWS CRUDE UP THEIR NOSTRILS

By Octopus

I have not had time to digest this latest report, so here it is … raw:

Scientists are finding enormous oil plumes in the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico, including one as large as 10 miles long, 3 miles wide and 300 feet thick [my bold] in spots. The discovery is fresh evidence that the leak from the broken undersea well could be substantially worse than estimates that the government and BP have given (…) The plumes are depleting the oxygen dissolved in the gulf, worrying scientists, who fear that the oxygen level could eventually fall so low as to kill off much of the sea life near the plumes.

Are you pissed off yet? There is more …

BP has resisted entreaties from scientists that they be allowed to use sophisticated instruments at the ocean floor that would give a far more accurate picture of how much oil is really gushing from the well  (…)  “The answer is no to that,” a BP spokesman, Tom Mueller, said on Saturday.

And here is another clusterfuck of the highest order:

"It appears that the application of the subsea dispersant is actually working,” Doug Suttles, BP’s chief operating officer for exploration and production, said Saturday. “The oil in the immediate vicinity of the well and the ships and rigs working in the area is diminished from previous observations.”

Did I read this correctly? “Enormous oil plumes in the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico, including one as large as 10 miles long, 3 miles wide and 300 feet thick in spots.”  Yet, the highly toxic subsea dispersant is actually working! As their Pinocchio noses grow to astronomical size, those BP executives should use mile-long straws to blow crude up their nostrils. Which is larger? The size of the oil plume or the size of their assholes?

WORMWOOD - The BP Apocalypse

By Octopus

And the third angel sounded the trumpet, and a great star

fell from heaven, burning as it were a torch, and it fell 

on the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of 

waters: And the name of the star is called Wormwood.

- The Apocalypse of St. John -

(Note: Chernobyl in Russian means 'Wormwood.)

Here is the latest update on the Gulf oil spill from American Progress:

Based on "sophisticated scientific analysis of seafloor video made available Wednesday," Steve Wereley, an associate professor at Purdue University, told NPR that the actual spill rate of the BP oil disaster is about 70,000 barrels -- or 3 million gallons -- a day, which is 15 times the official estimate of BP and the federal government.  Another scientific expert, Eugene Chiang, a professor of astrophysics at the University of California, Berkeley, calculated the rate of flow to be between 840,000 and four million gallons a day.  These estimates suggest that the Deepwater Horizon wreckage has already spilled about five times as much oil as the 12-million-gallon Exxon Valdez disaster.  The new figure exceeds the "worst-case scenario" offered by Transocean, BP, and Halliburton officials, who told Rep. Edward Markey (D-MA) last week that the maximum possible flow would be "60,000 barrels a day."  Markey said in a statement on Thursday that "an underestimation of the oil spill's flow may be impeding the ability to solve the leak and handle the management of the disaster," adding that, "If you don't understand the scope of the problem, the capacity to find the answer is severely compromised."  BP, meanwhile, has not endorsed the new estimate. It has also declined to take "off-the-shelf instruments routinely used" in deep sea research down to the gusher to measure the rate.  A BP spokesman said that the company "has decided to focus on stopping the leak rather than measuring it."  BP's CEO Tony Hayward sought to downplay the scope of the disaster, telling the Guardian that "the amount of volume of oil and dispersant we are putting into it is tiny in relation to the total water volume [of the Gulf of Mexico]." The edges of the massive oil slick are expected to begin hitting shore in Mississippi by Sunday, although bits of "tar balls" from the spill have already been found on the beaches of both the state's mainland and barrier islands.

The "Minerals Management Service gave permission to BP and dozens of other oil companies to drill in the Gulf of Mexico without first getting required permits from another agency that assesses threats to endangered species," including the Deepwater Horizon site that just exploded.  Under current law the agency is required to get these permits.

Bottom line: This is the worst environmental disaster in history. It is no longer regional or national but international in scope. The entire Atlantic basin will be effected, and ocean gyres will move this mess around the globe.  Meanwhile, BP executives equivocate while tempers burn.

This disaster is in my backyard. It will impact our food supply, our local businesses, the livelihoods of neighbors, our coastline, our environment, our quality of life ... and there will be no fix within my lifetime.

When I read about 29 miners killed in the worst coal mine disaster in 40 years, and how Massey Energy bought off politicians and ducked safety standards, I say: "How's that laissez faire bullshit working out for you."

When I read of defective consumer products imported from abroad, of adulterated pet food that killed the family dog and defective wallboard that caused health hazards, I say: "How's that laissez faire bullshit working out for you."

When I read about the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, and how corrupt Wall Street bankers paid themselves bonuses from taxpayer-funded TARP money, I say: "How's that laissez faire bullshit working out for you."

When I think of this GOP right wing crap, their raving insanity over free-market capitalism, and their steadfast refusal to support banking reform, environmental protection, consumer product safety, and healthcare (because reform is bad, big government is bad, and what’s good for business is good for America), I say: "How's that laissez faire bullshit working out for you."

Damn idiots!  These corrupt business interests and their crooked politicians have gridlocked our government and crippled our ability to respond to crises.  As far as I am concerned, bipartisanship is dead.  Civility is dead.   There is more than a culture war being waged in this country.  We are locked in a struggle for survival itself.

True Colors

By Captain Fogg

"I support Arizona's law as amended, and if the federal government fails to secure our borders and solve the problem of illegal immigration, I would support a similar law for Florida,''

said Florida Attorney General Bill McCollum, the GOP front runner for Governor of Florida. The law he supports of course, is the one that gives Arizona the unconstitutional power to enforce Federal Immigration Law, bypass the Bill of rights and that makes it a crime for non-whites or people with accents or "foreign looking" faces not to carry papers and furnish them on demand.

Florida Republicans generally act very offended at any suggestion that they're racists, so in a way, I'm glad I don't have to say it this time since it's so obvious. With the Florida Republicans fleeing to the Right, job seekers are hard on his heels in affirming their hysterical objections to less intrusive government and Constitutional law.

"Illegal immigration is a serious problem facing our country and it is unfortunate that the Los Angeles City Council came down in support of illegal activity, over the actions of Arizona's attempt to enforce the law''

responded Holly Benson, struggling to appear as far-right as possible in her quest to become Florida's next attorney general. Can anyone truly be swayed by the argument that being against a bad and illegal law indicates support for a crime? Apparently I need to reassess my estimate of the spread of Acquired Intelligence Deficit Syndrome.

Even Marco Rubio, whose growing popularity has forced Governor Charlie Crist to leave the Republican party in his campaign for the Senate, now supports the Arizona law: Marco Rubio, whose parents were Hispanic immigrants and whose face could easily prompt some Arizona thug to demand his papers. Anything to win. Anything at all.

Apparently no Republican principle, no matter how highly vaunted, is too important to be left behind when it comes to victory. Less federal power? Forget it -- and we can certainly forget that sincere commitment to Constitutional principles. Nothing may interfere with the will to power, neither your freedom nor mine. Christian principles? That only means inserting Jesus Christ into your life while the Brown-shirts cut a swath through the constitution making sure Jesus Morales won't be cutting your lawn or washing your dishes or obstructing our manifest destiny to be a white, Christian nation under God and the Republican Party.

Ditat Deus

By Captain Fogg

God enriches: it's the state motto of Arizona. To some it surely suggests that the rich are the chosen of God and the poor and struggling? Your papers please.

My hypocrisy alarm has burned itself to a cinder over the last few days simply from the stench coming from our self-styled Libertarian friends from Arizona who have just given far more power to the State government than the Constitution allows and reduced constitutional protection from the power of law enforcement provided by that constitution -- a step away from Libertarian principles that even the notorious Glenn Beck balks at.

Anyway, if God has enriched Arizona in any way, the government of that stolen state has done a great deal to cheapen its claim to being a part of a free country and to impoverish its moral status as well. Perhaps taking a clue from the Texas school board's redaction of American history, Arizona has decided that no courses taught in its schools may give students the impression that they belong to a persecuted minority.

That's right, the Navaho have always had it easy, no one ever gave a black man a hard time and the state itself was never taken by force. It's now official.

Squid's Fortnight

by Nance

I live in a pretty spot and May is a luscious month here at the beach, but, ordinarily, I try to be as far out of the area as possible for all of May.  This year, with a wedding looming, we're staying put for the month and driving VERY carefully.

It's time for the annual Hog Invasion on the south end, followed immediately by the annual Metric Bike Rally on the north end, to borrow a couple of terms from the rich lode of biker slang.  It goes without saying that I'm entirely hip and in the know on these matters and, obviously, so are you, so I won't spare the jargon. [For the unhip, there'll be definitions at the end of this post. It might be more fun to try to pick up the meanings from context and photos.]

At one time, the motorcycle events were referred to as weekenders, but both events gradually turned into fortnighters as more and more riders tried to get here ahead of the pack.  Since there's usually only about two fortnights in a month, that pretty well shoots May for the locals--at least for the ones who don't own hotels, restaurants, or bars.  Some creatively named bars only open for the month of May; my all time favorite raunchy bar name is Suck, Bang, Blow, but The Beaver Bar speaks volumes.  Many of those business owners rake in the bulk of their annual income when the motorcycles arrive.  The rest of us have successfully campaigned for noise ordinances and helmet laws, which harshed out the rebel experience for many attendees, who preferred to ride without brain buckets or mufflers.  So we've pitted the retirees against the business owners and thrown in a half million sunburnt, liquor-swilling, Hell's Angels wannabes. We could give lessons around here on how to divide a town against itself.

Riders and vendors have both taken the drop since '08, when more than 500,000 cycle tourists swarmed the beach,  swamping the city and county services.  While attendance has declined, there are still enough bikes, booze, and babes headed our way this weekend to make a trip to the grocery store a potentially life-altering experience.  Outside the city limits, where I live, the new laws don't apply, so it gets very sporty on the roads for drivers.  When I'm traveling at 45-60 mph in my car and am overtaken  by 25 or 30 unmuffled four-cycle engines in the hands of drunk and bareheaded riders, I have a tendency to fluster a weensy bit.  People die on these roads each Rally season; I keep hoping no one will choose to perform a high-speed drop in front of my Passat wagon.

A Sporty is a Harley Sportster, the classic, lighter weight model (DH had one of these when I met him 34 years ago). The guys seem to prefer the heavier Hogs these days and the women sometimes ride Sporties, but there'll  also be plenty of road couches, Goldwings, and geezer glides clogging up the local slabs. Some bikes, like the custom job with sidecar shown here,  are nothing less than beautiful.  Bikers, on the other hand, aren't known for their beauty; they have a tendency to look a little leathery and not terribly clean. Bugs in the teeth, both smooth-style and crunchy, can detract from looks and are a bigger problem when helmets are eschewed...so to speak.  And it's hard to tell how old a biker is.  This fellow reminds me of a biblical patriarch, if Abraham had worn tats and colors. 

In between laughing ourselves silly at the sights, DH and I worry about the utter lack of protection most Rally riders prefer.  They think those of us who travel in cages when we're cruising don't know how to live right.  They look at us in our wagons and see squares; we look at them, many with nothing but t-shirts between their skins and the pavement, and see squids.

Some riders need to wear more clothes just to keep from offending everyone else, which has given us a wicked, be-ashamed-of-yourselves million dollar idea:  The Biker Suit.  Sort of along the lines of those Sumo wrestler suits people wear for keg parties so they can get drunk, run into each other on purpose, and fall over--only these suits would actually serve the purpose of putting abundant padding between the biker and the slab (rhymes with _____). 

Hey, somebody stole our idea!

 The prevailing joke amongst those opposed to turning the town over to bikers for the prettiest month of the year is that Harley riders are typically doctors, lawyers, and highly successful business folk.  The proffered proof is that the bikes are so costly to own, transport (or ride), and maintain, that those who are owned by a Harley (or BMW or Victory) have to have means.  So, what would you say:  doctor?  Lawyer?  Chiropractor, maybe?

Photo: D J Mick

Terminology:
Hog:  A big bore Harley Davidson.
Metric Bike: What Harley Riders call cycles made by foreign countries; for example,  Crotch Rockets or Rice Burners.
slabs: roads or pavement.
Suck, Bang, Blow:  A drive-through biker bar named after the processes of a four-stroke engine, including the intake stroke, the ignition, and the exhaust.  This leaves out the compression stroke, which would be step two, but who can count that high after so many tequila shots and brews?
Beaver Bar:  Gimme a break.
brain buckets:  Any sort of helmet, but particularly the type of half-helmet that is almost worse than useless.
drop:  What happens to a bike if the kickstand isn't engaged; also, what happens to an imbalanced and poorly controlled moving bike.  
high-speed drop:  When a bike is banked too far in a high speed turn, gravity goes to work.
road couches:  What you ride when you really should have hung it up about ten years ago, but you've got more money than sense.
geezer glides:  See road couches.
colors: Gang duds, like The Outlaws or The Hell's Angels wear.
cages:  Automobiles, to a biker.
squids:  Variously, as Squashed Kid; an overconfident biker with an attitude of invincibility and a preference for speed over skill; Stupid, Quick, Underdressed, Inevitably (or Imminently) Dead.
burnout:  Revving the bike to 7000-8000 rpm while slowly releasing the clutch, front brake tightly held. Back tire will melt and may blow.  One more reason you'll need that law degree.

Biker Bar Burnout

Drill until we drop

Perhaps a society such as ours has as finite a lifespan as the individuals it's composed of and I think I'm seeing the kind of memory loss and dementia in the American public that we associate with extreme old age. The aged body sometimes can't absorb sustenance very well and neither can the American public assimilate the things that make a capable and dynamic Democracy possible. a large part of our population, for instance, seems to think that the huge environmental disaster in the Gulf of Mexico means that we need to do more of what made it happen and in the same careless, unregulated way. Presumably a number of those live far inland and don't like seafood or care that the Earth is becoming less livable because these are still the "end times," but not all of them. Some just think that as long as their immediate, short term needs are met, the rest of the world can go to hell, and so it goes.

A recent poll shows that despite the total lack of evidence and the extreme unlikeliness of the scenario, nine or ten percent of Americans do believe Limbaugh's idiotic proposition that it was the "enviros" behind the drilling platform explosion, but the scary part is that 22% are "unsure." Amongst self-identified Conservatives, the number jumps to 44% who believe it was sabotage by liberals. The evidence to the contrary is out there, the evidence for it isn't out there, so either 31% are unable to assimilate it by reason of dementia or have no interest in the survival of the USA as we think we know it -- or Like many aged people, they've given up and are simply wandering in a senile, paranoid daze of denialism looking for their lost youth and vigor.

"Perhaps most surprisingly 21% of voters said the spill made them more likely to support offshore drilling,"

said Public Policy Polling director Tom Jensen. 55% of Americans polled after the disaster began, still supported offshore drilling, according to the same poll.

Am I pushing this too far? Is this really only more of what America has been doing since its beginning? We are, after all a nation that is happy to continue its war on drugs and embargoes on foreign countries that cause more harm than good; a nation that has had to struggle tooth and nail to overcome our vicious habits. Most of all we're a nation that always waits for a calamity before doing anything. What I'm afraid of is that this time the calamity we're waiting for won't come until we're a nation incapable of taking care of ourselves but a nation with a huge Army.