Today we morphed into an organization no one had ever heard of -- The Institute for Energy Solutions -- and gained entrance to Coal USA 2008, an industry conference that we would never have been welcomed to otherwise. We managed to place ourselves directly in the center of the discussions and activities of over 300 executives and investors in the coal industry. We gained this access covertly, by becoming an official "sponsor" of their conference, and taking on the airs of an industry player they could relate to. 

To enforce our legitimacy we created all the things that a real company would need: a logo, a website, information sheets, business cards, email addresses, and more. Then, once we had all the appropriate materials, we plugged them into our offer of sponsorship and moved to create the platform we needed.

I am sitting here now behind our booth, in the foyer to the conference room where all the heavy hitters are talking about the future of coal. Behind me is a large color banner printed with our company name and logo. In front of me is our table, which is covered in Greenpeace campaign materials that talk about the false hope of carbon capture, the possibilities of wind power, the problem of the polar bear, and on and on. 

To my right is a flower vase filled with coal from which orange gerber flowers are peeking out from the top. In front of them is a container filled with black pencils that have our website URL printed on them in white lettering. This website once led to information about our "company," but now leads to a site talking all about the dirt and lies of coal.

Next to them are our keychains, which bear the slogan: "Global Warming? Coal is the key." People pick them up as they go by, read the slogan, and drop them back down into the bowl, often with a look of disdain. Of course, every once in a while someone will keep the keychain, hide it in the fold of their hand, and happily walk away.

Next to the keychains are the asthma inhalers we collected from people with asthma; some of which were donated by an orgnization on the West Coast that collects different types of "trash." On the inhalers are the labels made especially by us that say: Coal takes our breath away. 

Earlier today, we had three young children standing outside the conference as it let out for lunch, handing out these inhalers to the mix of suprised, outraged, excited, desparate, and appreciative faces. Some took them and walked away looking at them, or discussing them with the person at their side, while others cursed our names or threw them back into the bowl.

Perhaps the booth decoration that I am the most proud of, however, is the water samples to my left. They were taken from a stream made of runnoff from the abandoned Gallentine Mine in Fayette Pennsylvania that empties into Indian Creek, which then flows into the Mill River Reservoir, which is used for emergency public drinking water. We have affixed the bottles with our own labels that describe where the water is from, punctuating it with a green puking face. Of course the bottles have black tops and have been glued shut, just in case someone might be stupid enough to try to drink out of one of them.

The business cards that we created, each of which proudly declares our company's name on the front -- The Institute for Energy Solutions -- also have stickers on the back that say: "The Institute for energy Solutions is a joke. So is clean coal."

People are both intrigued and repelled by our booth, and I'm loving every second of it. We can only hope that they will carry home some of what we talked about and some of the materials we gave them, and mull it all over in their minds. And from there we can only hope upon hope that they will come to some different conclusions than what they walked in here with today. Regardless, we will not stop trying.