I’m a native Floridian. We live and breathe hurricanes. As the most hurricane-vulnerable state in the nation, and one of the most hurricane-vulnerable land masses in the world, it’s a yearly ritual to watch hurricanes develop and hopefully to pass us by.
One of my very first memories is prepping for a hurricane.
That is to say, I’ve been paying attention to hurricanes for a really long time. Nearly thirty years now.
And I’ve never seen a late-season (ends November 1) hurricane be so organized, so large, and actually strengthen as it goes north.
But I’m sure climate change had absolutely nothing to do with that, right?
“It seems our profound fascination with serial killers is matched by an equally profound lack of interest in their victims.”
In America, where serial killer fascination seems most prevalent, we worship power above all else. And serial killers hold the power of life and death – perhaps the greatest power of all for us mortal beings who have foreknowledge of the eventuality of our own demise.
It’s another – and perhaps the main – reason bankers and other rich fraudsters have never been prosecuted. I don’t think it’s just the influence they wield with their money over the political process, though that has something to do with it too of course.
Rather, I think it’s the worshipful nature of many Americans, including politicians, to the power itself they hold via their money, absent of any implied present or future quid pro quo.
A subtle distinction, I know, but to most people power itself is an enormous aphrodisiac.
Don’t believe me? Do something I’ve actually done and go in a department store on different days dressed in a really nice suit with short hair, an arrogant and confident air and see what you can get away with. Trust me, you can get away with damn near anything at all.
Try that with a ratty trenchcoat and long hair and see how long it is before security is trailing you even though you’ve done nothing wrong.
Power worship is another of those odd human things I can’t make much sense of.
This was my response to a woman at work asking me via email if I planned on coming to my company’s trivia night:
“At first I looked at the invitation quizzically as I usually don’t concern myself with trivial pursuits, but so as not to put my reputation in Jeopardy, I then asked myself the $64,000 question and decided that if I did well then my renown as a font of all irrelevant knowledge might daily double and so phrasing my answer in the form of a question, I was forced to ask myself, what would Alex Trebek do?
My brain bowled over and my head rang like a buzzer as if a family feud were going on in my skull, or perhaps that was just Regis Philbin being attacked by an enraged badger, but I did not need to ask the audience or phone a friend to know that though I do want to be a millionaire, it’s not likely to happen at company trivia night.
Though I will be there, and plan to press my luck.”
Why didn’t someone tell me before that there were electric harps? Very cool, but I’d rather see them when they are actually playing the piece, not just miming playing something they’ve already recorded. (I mean, they are really playing it even in the video, obviously, but we are only hearing the audio they’ve already recorded in studio.)