The moon, a burnt umber wedge caught in a swirling vortex of luminescent clouds, had long since set when Koko and I went walking in the striated gray of morning. A pheasant cackled in the pasture and the birds awoke with slow, solitary chirps as I stepped up the pace, feeling the chill wind against my legs.
Along the road we ran into my neighbor Andy and his dog Momi, who bounded into a neighbor’s yard in pursuit of unidentified prey, which caused Koko, who was leashed, to emit a chorus of bitter whining yelps in protest, which prompted another neighbor preparing to leave for work to comment: “You’ve got an interesting call of the wild going there.”
But Koko was not chagrined, nor is Sarah Palin, who continues to put her inarticulate, buffooning self into the spotlight, despite the derision and jokes at her expense, and who had entered our conversation when Andy asked, in response to my comment that Obama wasn’t turning out to be much different than W, other than he speaks with a lot more intelligence, “Well, who would you rather have, Obama or Sarah Palin?”
And that sobered us both up, especially when we recalled that we’d laughingly dismissed the prospect of Reagan getting elected, and then the next thing we knew, he was winning an Academy Award for his role as president. Terrifying as the thought may be, Sarah Palin as president is not an impossibility in America.
Sen. Dan Inouye, meanwhile, launched his campaign for yet another six-year term — he’ll be 92 when it’s pau — with a banquet at the Hilton Hawaiian Village on Wednesday night. It was attended by some 2,000 persons and Farmer Jerry, pressed into service to represent the Kauai Farm Bureau, was among them.
“Did he give a speech?” I asked.
“Yes,” Jerry replied. “He talked about his new wife a lot, and how she’s well-proportioned.”
It’s kind of hard to understand why Inouye needs to raise money or even campaign, seeing as how no one has even announced they’re running against him. He’s one of those job-for-life politicians, who really knows how to bring home the bacon, especially when it comes to the militarization of Hawaii.
Obama, meanwhile, has delivered the bacon to Exelon, the largest operator of nuclear power plants in the United States, with his recent endorsement of that highly toxic, yet somehow also "clean and green," energy source and promise of federal “loan guarantees” — as if the $8 billion (for starters) will ever be paid back. As Democracy Now!reported:
And the firm was a major—has historically been a major backer of President Obama. And two of his chief aides have ties to Exelon. Rahm Emanuel, as an investment banker, helped put together the deal that eventually merged, created Exelon. And David Axelrod was a lobbyist for Exelon. So there are very close ties between the chairman of Exelon, John [“Chicago Johnnie”] Rowe, and the Obama administration.
A journalist friend who has covered the nuke industry for decades was more explicit when we exchanged emails about the broadcast:
The deal is campaign money from pro-nukers, a least a million for approval for 81 nuclear reactors.
Straightforward. Pretty simple.
Hmmm, I have always thought all these Psycho MFs sell us out pretty fucking cheap! These are likely to be $10 to $20 Billion dollar construction projects apiece.
BLNR Chairwoman Laura Thielen, meanwhile, has signed off on Bruce Laymon’s Conservation District Use Application, which means he can build his cattle fence at Larson’s Beach, which means we’ll see if the county really meant it or was full of shit when it said we won’t let Bruce do anything that would close off access to that beach.
Andy, who shared the news, said he was disappointed that Thielen didn’t require a public hearing, as the information contained in Bruce’s application was so rudimentary, with many questions about the project’s environmental and cultural impacts left unanswered.
“So you’re disappointed that the agency charged with protecting the public’s resources, isn’t?” I asked.
“Yes,” Andy said. "I am."
“I don’t know why, when you’ve seen time and time again that they don’t,” I said. “But that’s what I like about you, Andy. You’re still an idealist at heart.”
So is my reporter friend, and farmer Jerry, and even I.
How else could one go on?