Wednesday, August 31, 2005

The Big Soggy

(Yet again, I realize that it may be too soon to make any light of the events currently unfolding in the states of Louisianna, Alabama, Mississippi, and Florida. But since my ticket to Hell has already been bought and paid for; I figured, why wait?)

I have just returned home from my much-needed East Coast camping trip (where the only wind and water I was concerned with were the bottled and the beer fart varieties), showered, unpacked, turned on the television, and what do I see but more people stranded on rooftops, wind swept cityscapes, rioters and refugees wading in the streets, poor dislocated seals being assassinated in parking lots, and Anderson Cooper running around with another hard on.

Ahhh, hurricane disaster season must be upon us again once again folks.

Anderson Cooper sure loves his smashed up tractor-trailers in hotel lobbies, eh? He has even repeatedly quipped for CNN: “I’ve never seen anything like it before”. Umm, how about Banda Ache, you ass hat – or has it been too long between disasters for you? Honestly, you dipshit - THINK before you open your pie hole.

With %80 of the Big Easy already completely flooded under 20ft of water rushing in from the breached levees of nearby Lake Pontchartrain, and most of the Mississippi and Alabama gulf coastlines in shambles, Hurricane Katrina has proven to be a natural disaster of gargantuan proportions the likes of which haven’t been seen on North American soil before. What I’d really like to know is what did we do exactly that so pissed off Mother Nature that she felt obligated to take this other vicious swat at mankind? We had better start throwing virgins into active volcanoes (I suggest we start with Condoleeza Rice) before it’s too late for the rest of us as well!

Here’s what I don’t understand: when the warning was issued to evacuate the city, why did so many people choose to ignore the order and instead remain in their homes? Were they eager to try out their new blow-up mattresses or something? I don’t know about you, but when somebody screams “get the fuck out of here!” - I get the fuck out of there – FAST! No questions asked. Deciding to weather out the mother of all tropical storms in a known “bowl” below sea level is just insane unless you’re a sea-monkey or Aquaman. These are the same people who back in 79 BC when Mt. Vesuvius was erupting, would have moved their lawn chairs out into the courtyard to watch the pyrotechnics.

Most disturbing to me are the numerous accounts of pubic looting and pilfering of local businesses and homes by panic-stricken refugees. Here are people I’d like to go all Gitmo on and beat with a sack of oranges. I’m not talking about those looting for important survival items such as food, water, medicines, and emergency provisions; I’m talking about those after such life-giving necessities as fur coats, clothes, Nikes, jewelry, TV’s, and microwaves as if it’s just one massive “Going Underwater Sale”. There are entire armed bands of survivors looting Wal-Marts and the police are practically holding the doors open for them; lending the odd hand to pass television sets through smashed windows.

“It’s Armageddon”, remarked one woman as she fled from a local shop in the French Quarter while hiding her face behind an armful of ill-gotten Huggie’s. What was she going to do, use the Huggie’s to absorb and mop up the water in her home? Hey, don’t get me wrong: when Armageddon comes sweetheart, I’ll be the first one to toss a brick through the nearest storefront window, but I’ll be in search of things to keep me alive (not to mention the sheer enjoyment of it), not diapers and designer shoes. But of course, looking your best for rescue helicopters is important.

Another man in the street with ten pairs of jeans draped over his arm was asked if he was salvaging things from his store. His response: "No, that's EVERYBODY'S store!" Thanks for keeping it real, douchebag. At least New Orleans residents are maintaining their sense of humor I guess. I hope those pairs of jeans serve to weight him down to the bottom when the water continue to rise.

The real tragedy in all this is that President George Bush was forced to call short his five-week vacation by two days - and don’t think he’s getting those days back, either. The poor bastard hasn’t even had a chance to kick back and relax since this past April for God sakes! So anyways, ‘ol Dubya abandons his deserved furlough the day after the disaster to return to Washington D.C. to circle the wagons and summon an “all hands on deck” order to the National Guard and homeland security forces. What a leader, huh? Who feels more secure now that the idiot child is now calling the shots from thousands of miles away? I know I do.

On his way back to Washington of course, he directed Air Force One pilots to fly him over the ravaged disaster areas so that he could see first hand the severity of the storms destruction. Turning to his aides, he said: "It's totally wiped out. ... It's devastating, it's got to be doubly devastating on the ground." So he flew over the disaster area and pointed out the obvious. That’s just fucking brilliant, Mr. President. If he really wants to see Katrina's devastation first hand, I say give him a snorkel and a pair of flippers and drop his ass off on the corner of Canal Street and Clairborne Ave. Too bad there isn’t a cooler president like, say, Harrison Ford in ‘Air Force One’. He would’ve had those pilots fly the plane low enough so that he could pluck survivors from their rooftops with his outstretched hand before leading the National Guard into the aisles of Wal-Mart to kick some looter ass.


Blogger Claudia said...

Thanks, Terry, that made me feel good. You can say what I only think. You are outrageous, but great, and have a sure flair for the dramatic. Of course, the New Orleans disaster is perfect fodder.

9:32 PM  

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