A slick of rage

It might well be my extremist instincts, but in the blink of an eye I have passed from enthusiastic support for Barack Obama, to an Olympic irrational rage toward his administration. From wanting him to befriend Lula da Silva, to wanting Lula to get Jiu-jitsu on his ass. And all because of that stubborn slick of oil in the Gulf.

I never thought that Obama's administration could end up bogged down in the same waters that defined W's inept administration: the Gulf coast was become Obama's Watergoo.

My beef? -Obama's parroting of BP's underestimation of the extent of the catastrophe.

BP says 5,000 barrels of oil per day, the administration parrots 5,000 barrels.

BP says that the amount of oil is irrelevant to the aggressiveness of their response, the administration parrots the same crap.

Well, it turns out that the spill is much more than 5,000 barrels per day, according to independent researchers and experts. And it also turns out that those are OUR waters and we have a right to know how much oil is spilling out. Just because. Regardless of the response, we have a right to know the truth.

I am afraid that Obama's slickness is spilling out of control, and the Gulf's catastrophe has brought it all out in all its ugly blandness.

To see this administration's utter impotence in confronting the spill and their complete dependence on BP's estimates is scary and nauseating.

To read Ken Salazar and Janet Napolitano begging on their knees for BP to cover the damage costs beyond the 75 million dollars of liability that the law requires is as humiliating as having Chinese tanks roaming free around Pennsylvania Avenue.

In these kinds of crises is when administrations grow or unravel. I want to see a couple of heads roll. I want blood. I want to see Obama and his cabinet sipping some tea à la pétrol.