Word: berkley
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...They’re either clueless or lying. I left Logan airport early one morning in late May, where the crisp 55-degree weather was perfectly appropriate for a sport coat, dress shirt and loafers. I was, after all, being met in Nevada by a staffer of Rep. Shelley Berkley (D-Nev.), for whose re-election campaign I’m working this summer. As any go-getter knows, first impressions mean everything...
...welcomed by the campaign manager, a beer and the overwhelming desert heat. Had you forgotten about the heat? I had, in the cool altitudes of the Sierra Nevadas. But there it was, oppressive as always, drawing me to the air conditioning and bottled water. I returned to the Berkley campaign the next day, far away from ex-felons and homeless instigators. Back into the world of candidates’ forums and fundraisers, to speaking engagements and late nights. I was back to nights marked by sweaty sleep and parched throats. Back, as Tennyson wrote, “into the jaws...
...Late last week, Reid launched what amounted to a B-52 attack in his long-running legislative war to block the building of the Yucca repository. He released the results of a General Accounting Office report (that he and Nevada Congresswoman Shelley Berkley commissioned) which concluded that the Energy Department can't stick to its timetable of recommending early next year that the Yucca site should be built "because it doesn't have all of the technical information needed for a recommendation and a subsequent license application." That's bad news considering that the Energy Department so far has spent...
...Department hired to help guide the project through the licensing process had been lobbying Congress on behalf of the nuclear industry. The firm denied a conflict of interest but has withdrawn from the program. Now the GAO report "has the potential to derail the Yucca project altogether," claims Congresswoman Berkley. "This is the smoking gun we've been looking...
...them, it is the gallery itself that is horribly self-contradicting. On the one hand, they seek an exhibit, a gallery, where art is on display for public consumption. They encounter, however, that gallery in the most obscure of places, folded into a remote corner of Boston's Berkley district, poorly labeled and wholly inhospitable. And this geographic intractability, unfortunately, seems reflective the gallery as a whole-a gallery whose intended audience seems to be the artists themselves, displaying a highly insular, masturbatory collection...