In his State of the Union address, President Bush spoke of developing hydrogen cars. He sought to assuage citizens who were concerned that his administration was anti-environment: “In this century, the greatest environmental progress will come about not through endless lawsuits or command-and-control regulations, but through technology and innovation. Tonight I’m proposing $1.2 billion in research funding so that America can lead the world in developing clean, hydrogen-powered automobiles.”

For those concerned about the environment, this announcement should have come as good news. Instead of pumping the atmosphere full of CFCs, hydrogen cars produce water as exhaust. In fact, depending on the age and state of its engine, the water expelled from a hydrogen-powered car’s tailpipe could well be cleaner than your average city’s tap water. Seems like a pretty good idea, right?

Unfortunately, as ideal as Evian-spewing SUVs sound, the inclusion of hydrogen-technology in Bush’s speech only further illustrates our Commander in Chief’s apparent belief that “environment” is a word created by commies to impede industrial development. With hydrogen cars, Bush is flashing a Polaroid of the future in place of offering a realistic, sustainable energy policy. And while he dazzles the public with the shiny nickel of eco-friendly cars, behind the scenes it’s business as usual for this ex—perhaps current? —Texas oil man.

He’s withdrawn from the Kyoto Protocol, been content to let Japanese automakers lead the world in hybrid engine development and failed to mandate substantial increases in Corporate Average Fuel Economy Standards. In fact, owners of certain massive SUVs—like civilian copies of the military’s Humvees—qualify for tax breaks that can reduce the purchase price by 30 percent. Indeed, many liberal pundits pounded Bush’s hydrogen-cars proposal, citing everything from safety issues (hydrogen is extremely flammable) to environmental effects (hydrogen production often involves burning fossil fuels).

But amid testimony from America’s myriad industry “experts,” perhaps no criticism was more damning than that of Tom and Ray Magliozzi. Better known as Click and Clack, the Magliozzi brothers own Boston’s Good News Garage, and, somewhat more famously, answer automotive-related questions on Car Talk, National Public Radio’s most popular program. In the March 21, 2003, edition of the their syndicated column, Click and Clack breezily deconstruct—and dismiss—the President’s plan for hydrogen cars, citing the incredible expense of constructing needed “fuel cells,” the insufficient range of the vehicles and the absence of places for owners to fuel up. By the estimates of America’s most trusted mechanics, it will be 20 years before hydrogen-powered cars are a practical choice. Perhaps the pair’s banter—“don’t drive like my brother”—is as corny as it is repetitive, but that column read like a Norman Rockwell painting laughing at the President.

So, America, where do we go from here?

We explore using biodiesel, otherwise known as methyl esters. Since a future where city streets hum with the silence of nonpolluting vehicles is still too far away, we need a solution we can implement today, a solution that can tide us over until the technology is perfected and the infrastructure erected to support ideas like electric and hydrogen cars. Biodiesel is that solution. Unfortunately, when the President stresses “technology” and “innovation,” he ignores a hundred years of research and development—because biodiesel has been viable since the advent of the internal-combustion engine.

It was Paris, five years before the turn of the century, when biodiesel made its first public appearance. Dr. Rudolf Diesel was introducing a new engine design, and as it ran, the air began to resonate with a smell not unlike roasting peanuts. This was perfectly appropriate, of course, because the tank had been filled with peanut oil. Ultimately, cost dictated that petroleum-based fuel be adopted for wide use.

None the less, Dr. Diesel’s engine was, to put it mildly, pretty successful. Today, there are diesel engines in every country of the world, powering semi-trucks, barges, generators, tractors and luxury cars. This market penetration is exactly what makes biodiesel such an exciting alternative—because while we’ve come a long way, technologically, since that Paris afternoon, Dr. Diesel’s design hasn’t outrun its roots.

Does this mean you can run a modern diesel engine on straight peanut oil? Sadly, no. Today’s advanced fuel-injection systems don’t account for its viscosity, so an attempt to involve Mr. Peanut would portend an expensive repair bill. According to Joshua Tickell—who logged 10,000 miles in the “Veggie Van,” a 1986 Winnebago LeSharo that ran on used cooking oil—there are essentially three ways of using agricultural oils to fuel a diesel engine. As he explains at www.veggievan.com you either “[m]ix the vegetable oil with a lighter fuel such as kerosene, heat the vegetable oil before it gets to the fuel injection system, or chemically ‘crack’ the vegetable oil molecule to make it smaller.”

This “cracking” Tickell refers to is a process called transesterification. The following explanation of transesterification—thankfully unburdened by technical jargon—comes courtesy of Kirsten Michel (aka: Biodiesel Betty), an avid biodiesel proponent and a graduate student at the New College of California: “By mixing methanol (wood alcohol) with lye (sodium hydroxide) one can make sodium methoxide. This liquid is then mixed into vegetable oil. After this mixture sits for a while, glycerin is left on the bottom, and methyl esters, or biodiesel, is left on top. The glycerin can be used to make soap, or other products, and the methyl esters are washed and filtered. It can then be poured into the gas tank of a vehicle.”

Any modern diesel engine will run as efficiently on biodiesel as it will on conventional diesel, with no modification or loss of fuel economy. Conveniently, standard diesel and biodiesel can be mixed—in any proportion—so if the vehicle ever needs fuel where biodiesel is unavailable, a fill-up at the local gas station is perfectly safe. This comes in handy for those in cold climates, where the fuels are often mixed to prevent the thicker biodiesel from clogging fuel lines. Evidence even suggests biodiesel is better mechanically because it burns cleaner, leaves less residue inside an engine and lubricates internal components far better than conventional diesel.

But mechanical longevity aside, biodiesel’s biggest benefit is its reduced environment impact. According to www.journeytoforever.com, biodiesel “burns up to 75% cleaner than conventional diesel made from fossil fuels,” and it “substantially reduces unburned hydrocarbons, carbon monoxide and particulate matter in exhaust fumes.” The site also reports that the “ozone-forming potential of biodiesel emissions is nearly 50% less than conventional diesel fuel.” Biodiesel contains no sulfur, so engines running it—naturally—emit no sulfur dioxide, another nasty substance our atmosphere can do without. A vehicle running biodiesel produces exhaust that smells like french fries. And if that’s not agreeable, some lavender in the tank will take the edge off. Oh, and while taking a sip of gasoline could land you in the emergency room, biodiesel is so nontoxic that humans can actually ingest small amounts without any ill effects.

Of course, biodiesel isn’t perfect. Production costs are high, so those who choose to run it can expect to pay anywhere from $1 to $1.50 above conventional diesel prices for ready-made fuel—if it’s even available locally. Meanwhile do-it-yourselfers embark on a project messier than home-brewing beer. Books like Joshua Tickell’s From the Fryer to the Fuel Tank: The Complete Guide to Using Vegetable Oil as an Alternative Fuel purport to make “transesterification” easy, but “easy” is a relative term, and where engine damage is concerned, it could very well mean “difficult.”

It’s important to note, however, that even if biodiesel were as detrimental to the environment as regular gas, producing it domestically would still be a good idea. Why? Because oil money aids terrorism. It’s that simple, and the number of people acknowledging it is growing.

After 9/11, Arianna Huffington traded her Lincoln Navigator in for a Toyota Prius, a smaller, more fuel-efficient hybrid vehicle. But Huffington—who pays the bills as a Portland-area journalist—didn’t feel like the decision to downsize her vehicle went far enough. So she cofounded Americans for Fuel Efficient Cars (AFEC) with some friends from Hollywood and made a commercial.

If you’ve seen the spots anywhere other than the Internet, however, you’re in the minority. AFEC ’s anti-oil ads follow the same format as the Bush administration’s anti-drug ads, the ones that equate drug use with supporting terrorism. The image of an American gassing up his SUVs and saying, “I helped blow up a building today” may be inflammatory in a culture where a citizen’s right to drive a gas-guzzler is held sacred, but that doesn’t make it untrue. Like the ads they’re styled after, these spots shed light on the dark side of a service many Americans enjoy.

The Bush administration’s new wave of anti-drug propaganda may well be laughed off by its target audience—like Rachael Leigh Cook smashing up the kitchen with the frying pan: Très heroin-chic, non? But it’s important, painful, but important, to note that—at least this time—the government isn’t lying about drugs. Honestly, whether you’re snorting cocaine off the top of a toilet tank or the tight tummy of Hollywood’s next big thing, ultimately a percentage of the money you pay for blow ends up lining the pockets of drug lords. Now think about it. When kingpins like the infamous Pablo Escobar feel something nibbling at their profit margins, they stop it. By killing people. Like judges and elected officials. And they don’t care about innocent people eviscerated by car bombs or carved up by stray bullets. Sounds like terrorism, doesn’t it?

Well, if the logic in the anti-drug ads is to believed, if engaging in an activity where funds eventually trickle down to terrorists is wrong, then this administration should have a big problem with oil from Saudi Arabia. Why? Because most of the 9/11 terrorists were Saudi citizens, and the money networks that supported the Taliban—the government which offered Bin Laden shelter—were headquartered there. Saudi Arabia’s state religion, Wahhabism, is one of the world’s most puritanical interpretations of Islam, and hundreds of religious schools within its borders preach for the “Great Satan’s” destruction. The American oil industry, however, sends billions of dollars to Saudi Arabia each year, so AFEC’s ad seems justified when it asks: “What is your SUV doing to our national security?”

As far as terrorism is concerned, is there a real difference between putting Saudi oil in your gas tank and sucking Columbian cocaine up your nose?

Actually, yes. The comparison between the drug trade and the oil business rings false. Drugs like cocaine and heroin derive their inflated worth from their illegality, while oil purchases from Saudi Arabia are regulated, and still perfectly legal.

Shouldn’t there be a better way?

Fortunately, for anyone not fixated on using fossil fuels—a practice as doomed to extinction as the very dinosaurs it’s made of—that better way is already here. And a look around the cookie-cut landscape of any suburban community confirms it, because peppered along its main drag, like dandruff on black cashmere or dandelions on a golf course, are the dull temples of corporate American cuisine. Each one an untapped oil well.

Sure, it seems radical to see companies like McDonald’s, Burger King and Taco Bell as solutions to problems when grown Americans are growing fatter and obesity in children is reaching record heights, but these companies produce billions of gallons of used vegetable oil every year. Oil that more often than not goes to waste. And any of it, whether used to make tacos or french fries, can be turned into biodiesel. A fuel that can power a classic luxury car like the Mercedes 280D or a burly Dodge pickup with a Cummings turbo-diesel. A fuel that fills less of our air with pollution and doesn’t have to be shipped across the ocean in a rickety tanker.

So, America, besides our collective resolve, what’s stopping us from turning today’s sins of gluttony into tomorrow’s virtues of conservation? Isn’t the idea of a fuel made, quite literally, off “the fat of the land,” right here in the United States, just as American as apple pie? Hell, just think of the marketing potential:

“Don’t sneer at the flag on my tailgate, hippy! I run Freedom Fuel!”