The site traffic on this blog – and I imagine, on all blogs – takes a huge hit in these waning weeks of August, and to be honest, I’m usually gone right now anyway, with my family filling in. Since we’re stuck with each other this August, I’d like to do a little prerequisite Bush-bashing just to keep my anger muscle erect. You know, you liberals, if you don’t keep your righteous indignation member throbbing every few weeks, it’s liable to fall off.
To wit: something incredible happened at Harvard last week. They took normal skin cells, and transformed them into stem cells. This little anecdote, missed by many, may well end up the biggest piece of news in the early 21st century (but of course, we’re distracted by Ali G getting dragged into the ocean by bodyguards because he tackled Pamela Anderson during her DOG’S WEDDING).
Now, the Bush Administration hates science, especially when it proves that fetuses don’t feel pain until the last weeks of pregnancy, or, say, that humans and apes descend from a common ancestor. But all this science-bashing goes away when they see a political opportunity to stall progress in the name of some far-off advance in technology.
Now that Harvard “made” stem cells, right-wing wackos are saying that we should go ahead and stop funding of fetal stem cells because the shit will soon be growing on trees. Never mind that the Harvard technology could take decades. In the meantime, all you people with Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, macular degeneration and complete paralysis can FUCK OFF in the name of conservative deal-brokering.
Bush has done this before. By hyping futuristic hydrogen fuel-cell cars with one hand while handing Detroit the mushiest, least-effective energy bill possible, he has mortgaged my daughter’s future. Hydrogen fuel cell cars, despite breathless reports by occasional science magazines, might not be energy savers for another two decades. In the meantime, his administration has shown ZERO interest in hybrid vehicles, which could start saving the planet NOW because… well, fuck it. You know why.
Again, this shit isn’t funny anymore. To quote Morrissey, as one should in these situations, “it’s too close to home, it’s too near the bone.”