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John Nippolt
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If you have seen one Sarah Palin, you have seen them all
What a Maroon
The uninvited guest
Why did you do that?
Tsunami Redux
Three Tears for Boogie
Vigilance and Vengeance
Pick a Holiday, Any Holiday
Wage Wars
Taking it to the Streets
Volleyed and Thundered
The Earth Cries
        I began writing this when I saw a video on the internet that filmed the oil rain falling in Louisiana, something that I did not see on our local news here. This was the day before the "Hands Across The Sand" protest rallies held across the nation, and at Waikiki last Saturday. Friends of the Earth, Environment America, The Sierra club, Blue Planet, and Surfrider Foundation were a few of many organizations that participated in this event. That was day 68. I told my wife that I wouldn't feel right if I didn't get involved. I'd been upset about this from the start and with all my talk about how someone should be finding or inventing a solution for this travesty, I could not allow myself to be absent from this futile but instinctive attempt to voice my concerns with my fellow Earthlings. I got up early that morning, gathered some colors and brushes and painted a 4' x 2' sign depicting a globe that looked as if it had oil leaking out from the Gulf of Mexico onto the bottom of the sign.
        The copy read: "Greed At Work. B.P. is killing the planet. Seal it now." After breakfast, I went outside, finished the sign, loaded it into my Blazer and drove over the Pali heading into town. Luckily I found parking across the street from the Honolulu Zoo which was pretty close to where the rally would take place. Everyone was supposed to gather on the beach fronting the zoo area. Holding my sign in front of me, I walked down to the beach toward the prearranged meeting place. Someone asked me what organization I represented. I replied, "Earth." No, she persisted, "I mean what group are you affiliated with?" "Humans."
        I should tell you I'm a life long surfer, more comfortable in and on the water than out of it, deeply in love with and fascinated by blue water. All surfers are. We can't stay away from it: we live for it.
        I arrived early intentionally so I could display my sign to passing cars on the street as well as giving a good view of it to the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. Waikiki is an international stomping ground and by mid-morning there were many groups of tourists bustling about the place. Most of those who noticed me standing there holding my sign seemed to agree with it and said as much when they strolled by. Many took pictures of me and they seemed surprised when I asked them to publish it on you tube.
        One older guy, who was with his wife, stopped and pointed out to me that I should change the initials from B.P. who was not responsible for the catastrophe but to B.O. "Obama is the cause of the problem."
        I was out there on my own, representing myself so I could say whatever I wanted to this egghead. He did not expect my heated retort. "Obviously you are a good example of those who know nothing of the seriousness of this situation. How can you be so dumb? You are almost as old as me." He turned away in a hurry to leave.
        So it may be presumptuous of me to say we are all worried about oil damaging the planet but there may be many people who just aren't concerned enough because they either don't know or they are not being given enough information and fail to realize the overwhelming repercussions from this disastrous event of Biblical proportion. It is now the end of day 70. I am so deeply affected by what is happening in the Gulf of Mexico, I have become uncharacteristically despondent; normally, I'm not. It is not a cheerful me telling myself this will not be close to being cleaned up by the time I'm dead.
        I knew we were in desperate shape when the polluting began. It got worse during that first week when it was announced to the public there was no contingency plan available to stop the leak. No Plan A, no Plan B. All efforts to totally plug the leak have failed and nothing is going to be resolved until August. Thirty-one days in July plus two more days left in June equals one hundred and three days. Add the month of August, because we have been told only that sometime in August it will be fixed. Oil spilling by the millions of barrels a day for one third of a year! I don't know if the ocean, let alone the earth, can handle it. Are any of you aware that the Gulf of Mexico is the spawning grounds for the Atlantic Bluefin Tuna, which by the way, is being fished into extinction?
        I wonder how the mentality utilizing the technological advances to find, drill, and harvest oil at such a great depth, has no sure fire safety measures available to shut the flow off no matter what happened? Wouldn't that be the foremost consideration developed for such a project? We know that this was not handled properly and the point is moot. I remind you tomorrow will be day 71. A myriad of projects can be accomplished in seventy days.
        As a younger man I firmly believed we were a nation that does the right thing, or at least had the genius to accept and correct our mistakes, improve and move on. No one is proving this to me anymore. The next question I put to you is, why haven't I heard about any action being taken by the United Nations? Shouldn't that group be the first in line stating that what is happening is unacceptable? There is no excuse for leaders of every country in the world including the United States for not finding the most expedient solution to end this abomination. Our empty headed politicians have come up empty handed which unfortunately now is an everyday and normal occurrence.
        Soooo, why not fabricate a five thousand foot tube that fits exactly into the pipe opening, force it down the throat of the pipe and collect the oil on the surface, or, remove the partial cap and insert an inflatable thick rubber balloon that expands inside of the pipe blocking the oil. Design it like a Chinese finger cuff making it nearly impossible for the now larger object to slide back out the opening it came through.

Necessity is the mother of invention, inspiration is the reward; but not with B.P., and not in this day and age. Greed is the mother and money is the reward.
Here’s a terrorizing tale for your son or your daughter:
People in Hell want ice water!
No fresh air to breath on my back door, and if it ain’t stopped,
there’s more in store.
It will seek you, it will freak you!
From Paris, France to Puerto Rico;
Them old earthlings make no sense,
spending all their money on self-defense.
Radioactive feces, yes, toxic turds,
time to swallow all them words.
With a half-life ocean and all the fish are floatin’
in all the waste…the oil spills; more bad taste.
We throw our rubbish all over this place. Should we shoot our shit into outer space?
Split the atom, take the pill,
Says the Sixth Commandment: THOU SHALT NOT KILL!
It’s easy for me to understand what lust and greed does for the land.
A planning commission? You mean another subdivision.
Photosynthesis ceases, life decreases
on this moving room, the last chance saloon.
The last hooray, the final bell,
there will be no ice water for the people in hell