Thursday, July 3, 2008

Drill a Hole in Your Head Before Drilling Offshore

Conservatives such as Glenn Beck say more offshore oil drilling is the answer to the nation's gas shortage.

Beck points out that the money spent annually on the increased price of gas effectively translates into the cost of a high-end flat panel TV for every household in the country.

While it might be nice to have a hot new 1080p LCD screen TV with that Blu-ray player I have yet to buy, you must be frigging retarded if you think more drilling is the right fix.

I know alternative energy sources are difficult to make commercially viable. Most of ideas, from solar power to hydrogen fuel cells, have been in development for DECADES.

But we are all in deep debt to oil and the interest rate just went through the roof. You don't get out from under that debt by increasing your credit limit alone. You have to attack the systemic problem that is pushing you deeper into a dank black hole.

I was once debt to the point that nearly my entire salary went towards paying the astronomical interest. Things didn't change until, at the suggestion of someone else, I attacked my real problem: The damn credit system I locked myself into.

Here's my idea: For each new oil rig that gets built, put 1.5 times the cost of that construction towards the development new energy sources. Break the back of oil, don't feed it.

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Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away