A proposed piece of legislation called the Clear Skies Act just failed in the Senate.
I'm and environmentalist. One would think that I'd be downtrodden. I'm not. Why? Because that bill fits its title the same way my blog would if it were called "EsotericWombat's G-rated, Unoffensive, Always Relevant Column of Happy Thoughts."
Two rules of thumb for any Congressmen that might be reading:
When utility companies support a specific set of environmental policies, it is not the protection of the environment that they seek in supporting it
When George Bush uses the phrase, "Congress needs to get (insert bill name here) on my desk right now, DON'T FUCKING VOTE FOR IT
This issue is especially pertinent for me, and here's why.
One, I have had asthma since I was 6. it hardly ever acts up now, but when it did, it was hell. I was hospitalized for extended periods of time, on an oxygen tank, at several points in my youth. The feeling of struggling to breathe is something that haunts me to this day. While pollution is a detrement to anyone's health, it beats the shit out of young asthmatics.
Last summer, I went door-to-door with an environmental group known as MASSPIRG (Massachusetts Public Interest Resource Group) on a campaign for mercury emissions standards for power plants. As I recall, a measure was passed at the state level that will reduce emissions by 90% by 2008. To be honest, I got fired for not meeting my donation quota. (The job sucked anyways... I mean it was 10 hour day, which isn't totally awful, but the problem was that those 10 hours just happened to be my favorite ones. The people were great, though. In fact, I'm still in touch with two awesome ex-coworkers who coincidentally were fired the same week as me, for the same reason.) Where was I going with this... I forget.
Its probably because I've been awake since 10am yesterday, and on the second wind of a caffeine binge. See, I've been working on a story for my Fiction Writing class, and the only way to brainstorm when writing fiction is to drink way too much coffee and have a desk strong enough to bear the force of you banging your head upon it repeatedly. This strategy has worked, and I was able to write myself out of a considerable corner. However, this success was eclipsed by my stunning failure to fix a major problem with characterization in my play. Perhaps getting wired out of my skull won't fix that particular problem. No one said it was a cure-all ^_^
So, for the two of you that might care, and any others, I'm going to be in classes from 11:00 to 5:20, and there might be a minor update here between then and 7:00, at which time I will depart for not one, but two open-mike sessions, which I'll make mention of if given good reason before collapsing into a coma that should last at the very least 12 hours . Cool? Cool.