Bloody Men in Boots

I remember when Saddam Hussein set fire to his oil wells. I remember seeing the pictures of the fires burning; the black smoke rising. It seemed an impossible task to stop it. But highly specialized American teams moved in and put out the fires one by one. They were well trained in this choreography. I remember the on-site TV interviews of these bloody men in boots. They didn't think it was a particularly big deal. They just did what they came to do without undue hand-wringing and mama drama. I remember being surprised by how quickly they were able to finish their work. Their manner on camera throughout was reassuring. …and we felt reassured (though still uncertain as to whether or not the Baghdad museum had been looted of its antiquities by the rough-hewn American invaders).

While the bloody men in boots could reassure us now, they are no where to be seen. This time the pretty ballerinas in pink petticoats appear to be running the show. Their only weapons are obfuscation and blame-shifting (with a furtive nod toward furthering their ball-busting agenda). They are far from reassuring. Maybe the only way to stop this leak is by a strategically placed nuclear detonation as some have suggested. The ballerinas swoon at the thought.

Come to think of it, there are other leaks in progress: the influx of illegals from along our Mexican border; the steady deflation of the dollar; our evapotating influence on the word stage. Deepwater Horizon’s gusher is an appropriate metaphor for all these and more.