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When fiction gets too similar to reality..

admin | August 14, 2010

WASHINGTON — US President Barack Obama is confident in the quality of Gulf of Mexico seafood despite the BP oil spill and will serve some at a party Sunday to mark his 49th birthday, a top aide said.
“Later today at the president’s birthday party, he’s going to be serving his guests seafood from the Gulf of Mexico,” White House energy advisor Carol Browner told NBC. [...]

Earlier this month, BP’s chief operating officer Doug Suttles also said he would eat Gulf of Mexico seafood after the massive oil spill poured 4.9 million barrels of crude into the water and devastated the region following an explosion on a BP-leased rig in April. “I absolutely would,” he said in response to a question about whether he would eat Gulf seafood. “And I would feed it to my family,” he said.

http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5gvLmUfy_bO0k3C_ejlCWLzIYfjjw

Now, quick change of setting, act 2:

Bishop Love reached inside his suitcoat and pulled a small chunk of carnotite — a friable, yellowish, higly radioactive uranium ore — from an inside pocket. He held it up where all could see it.

“That’s carnotite, folks. That’s what we got south of here in those big canyons off the Grand Canyon. Now you know and I know the uranium industry is in a slump these days, the American nucular business is shot to hell, the doggone environmentalists are shutting down the nuke plants, but this ore is so rich, my friends, such high-grade ore, that even with yellowcake down to seventeen dollars a pound this stuff is worth mining. Let the price go down to ten a pound this carnotite will still pay. Europe wants it if we don’t. And Japan, Brazil, them places. This is pay dirt, men. Radioactive gold.”

Murmurs of approval. Love pointed to one of his crew in the front row. The fellow handed him a portable Geiger counter, battery powered, with probe and cord. Love set back the black box-like device on the table, in full view of the audience, switched it on, held up the attached chrome-plated probe in one hand and the lump of sulfur-colored rock in the other. A loud clicking noise began immediately.

“All right, folks, now listen to this music. This high grade or ain’t it?” He touched the probe to the ore. At once all present heard the radiation count rise in crescendo to the frantic buzzing of an infuriated rattlesnake. “Hear that? You people out there in TV land hear that? That’s high intensity radiation. That’s one mad buzzworm in there. Pure U-238. Yessiree bob, this little yeller rock is hot as a pistol, folks, hot as my Aunt Minnie’s old-timey radium wristwatch…”

Murmurs of admiring approval from the audience.

“Yessir,” Love went on, “this here is one hot little piece of power. And am I afraid of it? Am I one little teeny-weeny itsy-bitsy scared of it? Watch this.”

Love lowered the probe. Holding the rock high in one hand, he turned to face the TV cameras and the glaring lights, the important men behind the table, the crowd in the folding chairs. “Watch me now.” Head up, in profile to the cameras, he opened his mouth and placed the carnotite in his teeth, bit off a piece. Chewing vigorously, grinning at everybody and everything, he masticated his tidbit thoroughly, then — swallowed it. Mrs Smith covered her eyes.

Laughter. Cheers. The assembly began to stand again.

“Yes!” Love bellowed, “radiation is good for you! [growing applause.] Uranium is good for you! Uranium is good for Utah and Arizona! The nucular industry is good for America!”

from Hayduke Lives (Edward Abbey)