Spill, Baby, Spill
I was going to use this Photo borrowed from the New York Times to do a thoughtful blog on humor. But I found myself so bitter about drilling for oil–about drilling for profit in the midst of a resource that belongs to everyone, that I just stared at the page.
Just recently, I walked Hacker Creek where irresponsible growers let between 600-1000 gallons of diesel spill. Two years since the diesel slid downstream. Two years. And I can still smell diesel over a hundred yards across the water from where it spilled. Two years. And I can still walk on land that squelches diesel up from under my feet. Two years and Two Hundred Thousand dollars in cleanup and the smell still wafts from the stream bed below the spill.
Today BP’s well is pumping oil at what may be 1,000,000 gallons per day. How long will that take to clean up? How long will the Gulf ooze oil?
I know soundbites and posters do a disservice to thoughtful reasoned dialogue. I strive to ignore the easy quick response but sometimes I’m just too outraged to give a damn.
Someone said, “Everyone who said ‘Drill, baby, drill’ should be flying down to the coast of Louisiana now to clean up their mess.”
I know that is hyperbole. I know that it isn’t really helpful. I’m sure there is a reasoned thoughtful argument I should make. Something that sees both sides.
But I just can’t find it.