Friday, September 5, 2008
"I think we risk becoming the best informed society that has ever died of ignorance."
"Well, that's what happens when you live underwater."
My ear caught that remark this week just as Spouse and I tucked into a buffet lunch during a respite from a long car journey.
No, the speaker was not delivering an account of fish. Nor was his area of expertise embedded in marine life- instead, it was in his magnificent ability to judge the plight of storm-wracked people from his masterly position at a leather-cushioned booth.
He was fixated on a nearby television screen, where a wind-whipped reporter was detailing the destruction that wicked Hurricane Gustav was showering on the Gulf Coast of America.
Coming late to the discussion by way of overhearing, one could not say for absolutely certain whether the chap was on his third or fourth- or goodness me, his fifth- plate of heaped chicken wings, but it is presumable to suggest that he was referring specifically to the population of New Orleans, who live at or below sea-level, and that he thought those people should just live somewhere else.
They should just live somewhere else, so that their homes might not get so tattered and so awfully wet the next time a detrimental entity like Gustav comes knocking.
They should just live somewhere else and take the opportunity to use up the troves of money Mr. All-You-Can-Eat envisions they have stashed away.
They should just live somewhere else.
Friends, we must write and inform them immediately. No more living underwater! It is so outmoded nowadays to wait around for one's house to float away on a wave, especially considering the erratic nature of weather patterns.
Oh, those bright, invigorating sparks of creativity that save the planet from tumbling around us!
And if the world does happen to fall apart- we could always move away.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 9:47 AM