How many times do we have to watch more oil oozing its way along the Gulf of Mexico before we will just say “enough”? I was going to run something light today, something funny like Justin’s “Beaver Butt Juice” story. However, I just couldn’t find any humor in anything this morning. The last giggle over anything turned into pure sadness and shame, as I watched in horror as the Gulf of Mexico once again took center stage in the “oh what a bloody mess” sweepstakes.
I know we need to move the black stuff around, and I even get that accidents may happen. Heaven forbid the hand of God slaps a vessel onto the rocks in an extraordinary act of violence, but this one just makes me sick. The technology that we must be using in transporting such a vast amount of the “black nasty” boggles my mind. How in the hell can two large vessels collide in this day and age? I understand the Titanic in 1912 relying on someone looking out the window to see what’s in the way, but this could have been avoided with an $89 sat-nav from Radio shack. Come on; I can track where my teenager’s cell phone is with the click of a button, these Captains couldn’t see something the length of a football stadium cruising along at 12 miles per hour. We should grab both Captains and lock the idiots up for as long as it takes to clean up the mess and dock their pay for the costs to fix it.
25 years ago