infernal machine
A friend at work just recently returned from a dreaded trip to New Orleans for the first time since fleeing from Katrina. He was in New Orleans for his grandmother's funeral before the storm hit and wound up stranded somewhere in Texas for the next three weeks thereafter. He and his family had only been allowed back to see what could be salvaged from the wreckage, and sadly, there really wasn't much but an abundance of random motifs in black and white - mold wildly strafing the walls, furnishings and things in general. His pictures told more of the story: his mother's house was upturned, disheveled and simply unrecognizable. Water lines were visible, perhaps four to five feet deep. His collection of music CDs - in the thousands, were damaged, along with his comics collection as were portfolios of illustrations, artwork and family photographs.He had great difficulty describing the scene, the desolation, the destruction of Katrina's aftermath because he'd never seen or exprienced anything like it. He thought of it as something akin to a war torn village, yet worse, as the storm did not discriminate in the lives it claimed nor the objects of its destruction. It simply tore through and left just as quickly as it came and scathed the land with unthinkable results. There was a great silence in his old neighborhood where once there were sounds of children playing, cars passing, dogs barking and people puttering in their homes. And now, just emptiness and broken down homes that cannot be salvaged. When the family got there, they simply threw up their arms in defeat not knowing where to begin to pick up the pieces. I imagine they must have stood there a while to let it all sink in before they could even move, and above all, was the great fear of finding a dead body inside.
Sometimes, I wonder if there aren't two guys, somewhere with some infernal machine plotting storms and earthquakes to slowly diminsh the human population, a few thousand at a time, so as not to make it so noticeable that they plan to eradicate the entire human race. There's this guy operating the machine who absolutely loves his job and his itchy fingers want to obliterate the entire population of earth with a single massive explosion, but his boss tells him, "Patience dear boy! We must wait for the opportune moment! A good old 7.6 quake in Pakistan will do for the moment, perhaps a storm off Florida too." And the machine operator rubs his hands together with a smug look on his face.
6:36 PM | |
