As part of my ongoing effort to save my own soul and avoid repeatedly stabbing myself in the eye with a fork in screaming frustration, and also because it's Beltway politics and watching it too closely is akin to having your cerebral cortex raped by encephalitic trolls, I've only paid cursory attention to the massive, landmark energy bill that's right now passing like a painful gallstone through Congress and getting snagged here and gutted there and stripped of key provisions over here, all so Dubya won't veto it, given how it might be just too mean to his fat, piggish pals in Big Energy.
Besides, it's an energy bill. It's Congress. It's like saying "altar boys" and "the Vatican." What are the odds of something good coming of it?
It's so brutally hypocritical as to be actually rather insane: We're on track to spend $2 trillion on a failed Iraq war that's tied directly to our appalling oil dependency, and yet we can't even allocate the governmental equivalent of pocket change toward encouraging people to install a solar panel on the condo? What kind of nation are we, really?
Well, the Dems tried. And they failed. They failed because they're not smart enough and they don't play dirty enough and they're completely terrified of Dubya's shiny newfound veto pen, which he apparently just found under his box of Osama finger puppets and private stash of gay stem cells. They failed because, despite their hairbreadth control of Congress, the oil-sucking GOP henchmen are still deeply entrenched and are clinging to their corporate cronyism like a Kentucky teen clings to his meth pipe. Hence, one of the most impressive pieces of legislation in 10 years gets choked to death like a pit bull at Michael Vick's house. What, too harsh? Not even close.
Please read the rest.