In anticipation of caucusocalypse, the New York Times' Timothy Egan diagnoses the Vegas economy. His take: residents succumbed to the condition that reigns on the Strip -- gambling fever.

What happened was, one ethos infected the other, and that became the wrong model. In allowing banks and Wall Street to place bets on any piece of paper tied to property — without much consequence for the bettors, as it turned out — the titans of free enterprise embraced casino capitalism.

Now, with the presidential campaign in Nevada for a week, in advance of Saturday’s first-in-the-West Republican caucus, you would think we’d be hearing much vigorous debate on what went wrong, here and everywhere that followed the model.

In anticipation of caucusocalypse, the New York Times' Timothy Egan diagnoses the Vegas economy. His take: residents succumbed to the condition that reigns on the Strip -- gambling fever.

What happened was, one ethos infected the other, and that became the wrong model. In allowing banks and Wall Street to place bets on any piece of paper tied to property — without much consequence for the bettors, as it turned out — the titans of free enterprise embraced casino capitalism.

Now, with the presidential campaign in Nevada for a week, in advance of Saturday’s first-in-the-West Republican caucus, you would think we’d be hearing much vigorous debate on what went wrong, here and everywhere that followed the model.

A crazy new idea is taking shape in Washington in the wake of the slow death of the proposed Yucca Mountain nuke waste dump: Asking the people who live there if they actually want to host the waste:

To little notice, an advisory commission charged with figuring out a permanent solution for America’s nuclear waste has issued a new approach for siting a waste repository that just might work. It might succeed because it's based on a critical change in attitude. The commission respects that, at its white hot core, the siting of a nuclear waste repository is not a technical or scientific challenge nearly so much as it is an emotional issue. And because they accept that inescapable truth, these recommendations offer true promise not just for dealing with nuclear waste, but as a model for risk management policy making in general.

A crazy new idea is taking shape in Washington in the wake of the slow death of the proposed Yucca Mountain nuke waste dump: Asking the people who live there if they actually want to host the waste:

To little notice, an advisory commission charged with figuring out a permanent solution for America’s nuclear waste has issued a new approach for siting a waste repository that just might work. It might succeed because it's based on a critical change in attitude. The commission respects that, at its white hot core, the siting of a nuclear waste repository is not a technical or scientific challenge nearly so much as it is an emotional issue. And because they accept that inescapable truth, these recommendations offer true promise not just for dealing with nuclear waste, but as a model for risk management policy making in general.

Nearby in the California desert, Popular Mechanics pays a visit to the site where the next leg of the space race is happening: 

The sign at the entrance to the Mojave Air and Space Port says "imagination flies here." The motto fits this collection of World War II–era hangars and outbuildings with two control towers and four airstrips in the middle of the California Desert. 

In 2004, the airport became a spaceport when a three-seat rocket-powered airplane built by a company called Scaled Composites and designed by its founder and CEO Burt Rutan became the first civilian-built craft to leave Earth's atmosphere. But Rutan and his ilk put themselves on the aerospace map long before SpaceShipOne took flight, and now they're trying to make Mojave one of the most important points in the growing commercial space industry. 

Nearby in the California desert, Popular Mechanics pays a visit to the site where the next leg of the space race is happening: 

The sign at the entrance to the Mojave Air and Space Port says "imagination flies here." The motto fits this collection of World War II–era hangars and outbuildings with two control towers and four airstrips in the middle of the California Desert. 

In 2004, the airport became a spaceport when a three-seat rocket-powered airplane built by a company called Scaled Composites and designed by its founder and CEO Burt Rutan became the first civilian-built craft to leave Earth's atmosphere. But Rutan and his ilk put themselves on the aerospace map long before SpaceShipOne took flight, and now they're trying to make Mojave one of the most important points in the growing commercial space industry.