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DURST: Let's Dump on Mexico

Bush wants Mexico to build more power plants and sell the U.S. some power. And why not use Mexico as a basement corner where we can hide our unsightly pipes and wires? We already treat it like a subhemispheric temp agency.
 
 
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To say George W has been less than rapid in his response to California's whimpering pleas for a bone of energy assistance is like intimating the Clinton legacy has hit a bit of a snag. As a matter of fact I'm sure on the rare occasion George the Juvenile does find time to think about us in his cluttered work-out schedule, he stops, doubles over, is assisted to the weight bench and offered a lemon scented towel to dab away the tears of laughter. One can only fantasize about the New York Post headline writer responsible for penning "Ford to New York: Drop Dead" moving to the Chronicle and "Bush to California: Wear Coogi Sweaters" glaring at us from yellow boxes.

The worse news being, if there is a policy, which right now is about as clear as Czech opera, the Texas Coital Boys, Bush and Dick, are a dead solid lock to base it on the same two clumsy wooden clubs America's been hitting itself over the head with for the last thirty years: oil and gas. And the only forseable new news on this front, besides the predictable cycle of squeezing and loosening of the OPEC thumb on our national throat is a remote possibility of drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

Now I know I'm running the risk of forfeiting my membership as a card carrying bleeding heart commie pinko yellow rat bastard liberal for even thinking this aloud, but if you want to be perfectly honest, I don't give a moose's bald behind about the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Don't get me wrong, I believe all the happy propaganda about how its pretty and pristine and brisk in a frigid sterile Nancy Reagan's soul kind of a way, but face it I'm never going up there. My kids are never going up there. And if it weren't for genetically implanted migrational instincts I doubt any moose kids would go up there. And isn't that precisely what evolution is all about?

Besides its huge, and we're only talking about drilling on a mere 1.5 million acres which might conceivably force some slumbering parasitic blind ice worms to seek new frost-ilicious quarters, but as its approximately 3 light years from the nearest Interstate, hence not in what you might call my back yard, it inhabits a pretty gosh darn low position on my immediate worries priority list. Right below being disinherited from Strom Thurmond's estate and above Roger Clinton's future fiscal opportunities.

That said, there are major problems I can foresee in its rape, abuse and defilement, excuse me exploration; 1. It will take years before we see Crude Drop One hence any visible effect and 2. That visible effect would probably result in a net powering of three TV's in a Montana trailer court for a month. Three weeks if they got cable.

Locally, we're treated to the defeatist staccato drummed out by our Gubernatorial Buddy Rich wannabee, Grey And That's A Gross Exaggeration Davis. The official stance from our esteemed Guber is, the only way California can make it through this crisis and he can become the 2004 Democratic Nominee, (not necessarily in that order) is if we learn to conserve. Get it? Its our fault the State Legislature was dumber than a bucket of hair and allowed Texas energy giants to mug us like Salt Lake City tourists in a Turkish alley and our only way out of this fine mess is if we cook our meals over fires of our own broken up furniture. Great, the California Dream meets Century 21: camping out in the living room.

Using the wail of our self pitying cries as cover, Bush, in his first International State visit, recently waltzed down to meet with President Vicente Fox and instigated talk of a plan whereby Mexico sets up a series of power plants, transmitting some of the spoils to us. Big Texas energy gets to eliminate all those cumbersome environmental restrictions and construction costs shrink to a third. This is a genius idea. We already treat Mexico as a subhemispheric temp agency dipping into their vast labor pool whenever our unemployment numbers go down, why not use them as a basement corner as well where we can hide our unsightly pipes and wires. As a matter of fact, why stop there? Surely we can figure out a way to use it as a cubby hole to dump all our messy societal problems south of the border.

* Off Shore Oil Drills. Oh yeah, that's right, already got those in place.

* Toxic and Nuclear Waste Dumps. A lot of empty space in Mexico and it yanks Nevada and Wyoming off the hook.

* SUVs. Not the vehicles themselves. They're the innocent victims in all this. Mostly I'm talking about the owners. Speaking of which:

* Lawyers. In a country where bull and cockfights are national sports, imagine this: one pit, two lawyers, no rules. Jerry Spence versus Johnnie Cochran? Who loses now? Not the public.

* Tire fires. We don't like em. If the money's right, Mexico won't care. And we can use them as semi-perpetual sources of energy as well.

* Dot Coms. We don't like em. If the money's right, Mexico won't care. And we can use them as semi-perpetual sources of energy as well.

* Eminem. We don't like you get the idea. Aw hell, throw in Kathi Lee Gifford, N'Sync, Brittany Spears, Kenny G, your favorite goes here ______.

* Affordable Housing. Turn Baja into a typical California suburb. The commute couldn't be much worse than it is from Modesto to San Francisco.

* The South. The most efficient way to get rid of low test scores in Alabama, Mississippi and the southern parts of Texas is to simply hand them over to Mexico. Instant rise in residual literacy rates. And speaking of illiteracy:

* Florida. Just cut it off at the Georgia border and kick it over so it touches the Yucatan peninsula asking absolutely nothing in return.

* Frizee. No sir, I don't like it.

* Bill Clinton. Well, he needs to take a sabbatical anyway. Maybe a couple year long siesta is just what the doctor and the Democratic leadership ordered.

Will Durst is an ersatz political comedian looking forward to his annual sojourn to the desert to honor the three B's: beer, beef and baseball.