Hope

Just when I thought it was all doom and gloom and depression, I came across this article.  Resiliency.  Better than strength.  More important than anything I can imagine.

Comic relief

OK, I know.  I've been lecturing a lot.  I'll lighten up a little, I promise.  Enjoy...

Click HERE for comic relief.

One more thing before you go.  Have you gotten a reusable cup for all the coffee, tea, and water you drink, that way you're not stuffing plastic bottles or styrofoam and cardboard cups into landfills and recycling bins on a daily basis?  Maybe one of those fancy, insulated ones that keeps your coffee hot and your water cold?  No?  Please do.

Oh, come on.  You didn't think I was going to let you off that easy, did you?

Addendum

If you remember, when I left you in my previous post I was heading off to Jack Dempsey's to get my fill before a seventeen dollar oyster platter turned into a sixty-seven dollar oyster platter.  When I arrived, this is what I saw:

                    


Pretty depressing, and I'm not just talking about the grammatical errors.  A seventeen dollar oyster platter is already a nineteen dollar oyster platter.  Two dollars extra today, five in two weeks, next month, who knows.  Get it while you can...

It begins

Not the first casualty, to be sure, but a significant one.  I woke up to this article today.  Serious shit, people. Not good.

P&J Oyster Co. has been providing oysters to local restaurants here in New Orleans for 134 years.  Well, they were.  They've suspended operations as of today.

Just yesterday our chef was talking to a guy at the bar about seafood prices and availability, and how we don't really know what the long-term ramifications will be, and we're starting to see changes right now, and who knows what the fuck is going to happen.   I know I have an over-active imagination, but I don't like what's going on in my head right now.  Could twenty-five dollar fried oyster po-boys be on the horizon around here?  The disappearance of the 25-cent oyster-on-the-halfshell happy hour?

Say it ain't so.

I beseech you once again, my friends.  I know you're sick of hearing it, but fuck you.  I'll keep saying it until I think you're listening.  Lower your air-conditioner.  Downsize a little bit.  Recycle.  Reduce the amount of crap you buy.  Use less fuel, use less electricity.  Hey, it saves you money, right?  Isn't that the American way, worship of the almighty Dollar?  Use your car less.  Much less.  I know it's a necessary evil and you need to use it sometimes, but you don't need to use your car that much.  No, you don't.  You have options.  Yes, you do.  You aren't "above" public transportation.  No, you're not.

You aren't too good to walk places, either.  Weren't you complaining about wanting to lose those extra five pounds?  Here's your golden opportunity.  Can't really walk that far, maybe your knees hurt?  I can relate to that.  Ride your bike.  Don't have one?  Get one, they don't have to cost that much.  Borrow mine.  Steal your sisters.  It may not be as comfy as your nice, cushy private auto with the AC and all, but this can't be all that comfortable either...

                              


That's a bird, by the way.  You've seen that one already, right?

Anyway.  I'll get off my soapbox and leave you alone.  I've got to pedal down to Jack Dempsey's and get a huge plate of fried oysters before my bank account won't let me.


**ADDENDUM**   CLICK HERE



          

Broken record

Him: "What's the matter?"

Me: "It's everywhere.  It's washing up on Pensacola Beach."

 "You were watching the news at work all day, weren't you?"

"Look at this picture.  That's a fucking bird."

"Damn..."

"I'm getting depressed."

"Try not to let it depress you.  Try to let it inspire you."

"Dead sea turtles don't inspire me."

"I know.  I'm sorry.  What are we going to do when a hurricane comes through the Gulf?"

"Stop it.  Please, stop it..."

And so the conversation continues, every day.  Every morning, every night, like a broken fucking record.  The same conversation, with different lines thrown in according to the News of the Day.

"That top-kill thing didn't work, now they've got some kind of cap over the fucking pipe again."

"Is it working?"

"Not really..."

What the fuck can we do?  My friend is always talking about Prolonging the Inevitable, and I guess that's all we can do.  Use your car less, stop running your washer and dryer for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.  Take two seconds to recycle your shit, stop drinking so much bottled fucking water.  Thank you for reminding us, my friend.

He's also right when he says we're only fucking ourselves.  You know how long the Earth has been here?  In the long run, she'll shake us off like the common cold or a simple flesh wound.  In the Grand Scheme of things, I doubt we'll even leave a scar.

But in the meantime, shut your damn lights off when you're not home.  Prolong the Inevitable, huh people?

Toxic soup

So the top-kill thing is working... sort of... which means that oil isn't hemorrhaging into the Gulf anymore, or at the very least it's slowed down considerably.  That's good, right?

Yeah, sure.  I guess.

Now we just have to figure out what to do with the untold millions of gallons of oil and fuel swirling around.  It's already washing up on the beaches at Grand Isle.  The Chandeleur Islands have been fucked for weeks now.  Everywhere I look I see images of pelicans covered in crude.

Everyone has lots of Very Serious things to say regarding this oil spill/leak/gusher.  Lots of talk about what a tragedy it is, an environmental disaster.  Lots of hand-wringing and pontificating about the poor fishermen whose industry is about to be wiped out for who knows how many years.  How long did it take the Prince William Sound to come back after the Exxon Valdez?  Exactly.

Yes, lots of talking.  Not much action, though, even right here on the frontlines.  I'm not saying you have to go down to the Louisiana coastline with a scrub brush.  But have you maybe started turning the lights off when you leave the room?  Using your air-conditioner less?  Stop leaving it blasting when you leave the house?  "But I want the house to be cool when I get home from work."

Maybe you could take the bus to work, or ride your bicycle.  Maybe you could walk the two blocks to bar down the street, instead of drive.  Yes J, I'm looking at you here.  "But it's hot out.  I don't want to walk.  I need the AC."  To drive to the pool?  Are you fucking kidding me?

Little things, people.  They make a difference...

That river in Egypt

I've been swimming around in it for about a month now.  Since April 20th, to be exact.  Doing my best to stay deep beneath the surface.

Denial.

On April 20th, 2010 the Deepwater Horizon oil rig exploded, killing eleven human souls, injuring seventeen more, and completely fucking up the Gulf of Mexico.

I avoided the pictures.  Ignored the newscasts.  Overlooked the articles.  I couldn't do it.  I couldn't think about it, because when I did, even just for a minute, the magnitude of the situation was overwhelming and I would become frantic with anxiety.  One morning I cried the same way I cried after Hurricane Katrina, when I saw my beautiful city on television, simultaneously underwater and on fire.

We cut the fucking Earth open, people.  She's bleeding, profusely, and poisoning herself.  We're not supposed to be doing that shit.

So of course I don't want to cry and have anxiety, so I've been trying not to pay attention to what's been going on, trying not to think about it.  But then I saw the video of the oil gushing out of the broken motherfucking pipe.  Have you seen it?  It's right here.

After that, the same friend sent me this and this.  The oil slick can be seen from space now.  Well isn't that just fucking fantastic.

Now, it's all I can think about.  I devour every article I can find, I listen to the news in the car and scream at the radio.  I lay on the couch with my fancy internet phone...

Me: "Motherfuckers!"

Him: "What, you reading about the oil spill again?"

Me: "Yeah...  Fuck.  Damn it.  Do you want to know what's going on NOW?"

Him: "Well, I have a feeling you're going to tell me either way..."

I'm starting to get obsessed.

I'm trying not to go too crazy.  But fuck man.  This is some really fucked up shit.  We're only just getting started, too...