humans try to conquer nature, fail

In light of the current crisis and tragedy in New Orleans in the wake of hurricane Katrina, I've been musing on the hubris of human (or perhaps just American?) engineering. Certainly no one can control the devastation wreaked by a natural disaster, but what has really led to the catastrophe in New Orleans is the fact that the city is built in a geographical area below sea level in the Mississippi River delta that, as dickumbrage put it, "would be underwater but for the grace of the Army Corps of Engineers."

In the nineteenth and twentieth century, apparently, Americans decided that they could conquer nature. The fact that California was a big fucking desert was no problem to clever engineers who could figure out how to pump water there for happy little suburban lawns. Nor did anyone seem to think it a bad idea to build multi-million dollar beach homes 50 feet away from the Atlantic surf. Or, for that matter, inexpensive homes in hurricane-prone coastland. And though I don't know the history of New Orleans, I do know that the only time you should build a major city on top of a swamp is when a magical bird eats a snake on it.

Nature is relentless, and there are some places that is just doesn't make sense for people to live. Us egotistical humans have a hard time accepting that fact. People don't want to be told their beautiful beach house is eventually going to be washed away, nor do people (like the residents of New Orleans) want to be told that the city they've lived in all their life is disaster waiting to happen (or as it is now, happened). We fork over a few million dollars at it for man-made tactics to stall the inevitable, all the while pretending the inevitable isn't.

Oh, and your Jeep Grand Cherokee is not fucking capable of driving through 4 feet of water, no matter what you saw in the commercial.

if there was any doubt in my mind

I hate to be the ten millionth person to talk about Cindy Sheehan, but I've been listening to the local NPR webstream (mostly for hurricane Katrina news) and Cindy Sheehan happened to be the featured guest, via phone from Crawford, TX. Not only did the woman sound like she had the mental acuity of one who has taken few too many Sudafed, but as soon as host Neil Conan asked a moderately tough questions, she refused to answer ("Can we talk about something else? I don't really want to talk about that"), said she only had two minutes left to talk (she was supposed to be there for the better part of the hour), then abruptly hung up in the middle of a national broadcast. And they were the obvious questions - Didn't your son make a free choice to enlist in the army?, etc. My opinion of her has changed from misguided grieving mother to bona fide flake.

I don't know how I feel about this "she's being exploited by evil left-wing groups with an agenda" argument. Certainly her case is being fueled by excessive media attention and support from left-wing groups that will snatch up any kook with excessive media attention as a spokesperson (at least so I surmise), but Sheehan has freely chosen to take up this cause without even thinking her way through the tough questions she should have asked herself long ago. Blue ribbons all around for freely acted stupidity.

And just so it can finally go on record: if you or your spouse/child/friend/neighbor/favorite football player enlist in the armed forces, there is a chance they may get killed. It's one of those crazy things about being paid to kill other people - sometimes the people you are trying to kill try to kill you back. Be as sad as you want, but please don't act so fucking surprised when it happens.

p.s. Does anyone else find it fucking hysterical when blogger's spell check picks up "fuck?" Like it says, "Oh, golly, I simply have no idea what this word is; were you trying to spell 'bucking' instead, dear wholesome blogger?"

Kittyfied

My apartment is now complete with a cute and somewhat cranky light orange cat by the name of Bonnie M. I call her Bonnie. You can call her Ms. M. She looks like this:



Fortunately, the red font is not there in real life. I'll post better pictures once I get my hands on a digital camera.

Bonnie's first twelve hours Chez Elsa involved hiding under my bed, deciding to come out and get some petting, and waking me up at 5 a.m. with persistant squeaky meowing and a facial expression that said "Why the hell don't you understand what I'm saying?"

Before her kitty foster care (which appears to be much less traumatic, generally, than child foster care), she was a feral cat, and so one of her ears is clipped. While living the tough life on the streets she also got an infected tail, so most of it had to be removed. Now it looks like a little deer tail, and it wags like a dog's when she's happy or excited, like she gets when she looks at the ceiling fan.

Bonnie M, you are awesome.

London attempted bombing suspect unexpectedly hot

I feel strange saying this, but Hussein Osman, the first suspect in custody for the attempted London tube bombings July 21, is...hot.


But don't worry - (alleged) religious extremists/terrorists *rarely* show up on Elsa's List of Boyfriends.