Speaking of Cassandras - a little hurricane humor from a Louisiana standup comedian, Chris Fontana, that is eerily prescient (published 8/5/05). Bad language alert for the easily offended.
>>Apocalypse Live
Feature Article By Chris Fontana
Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Please step right this way and behold! Behold, for the end is nigh! Yes, the hour of reckoning is indeed upon us, so prepare yourselves for the troubled times to come! The dead shall rise and float amongst the living! Terrible beasts shall be seen in great number, and countless plagues shall be set upon the land! A great flood shall cover the earth, lo, lo and be-f–king-hold! The sky is, quite literally, falling! That’s right, friends – live and direct from the state that brought you nine Super Bowls, David Duke versus Edwin Edwards, the 1984 World’s Fair, Storyville, and drive-thru daiquiris – Southern Louisiana is doomed to present: The Apocalypse Live! (Season and date of conflagration TBA.)
Brace yourselves, capital citizens, for yet another hurricane season! Yes, Louisiana’s annual brush with death is back with a vengeance. Merely two months old, the 2005 season promises to be a force to be reckoned with, having spawned an unprecedented number of name-worthy storms thus far. Things don’t appear to be settling down any time soon, either: As I write this article, “Emily” is assuming the position in the Gulf of Mexico! How can we be on the letter “E” this early in the game? Still, “Arlene” was a bit of a let down, “Bret” proved unremarkable, “Cindy” was a tease, and “Dennis” chose not to grace us with his presence. However, if I’m still apologizing for my drunken Roman candle exhibition over the Fourth of July weekend (which I am), then Mother Nature’s got a surplus of season over which to work on improving her aim.
So, is anyone in Baton Rouge prepared for hurricane season? Of course not! Why should you be? Next to nobody in this swampy, ever-vanishing state seems to take its impending doom seriously! And yeah, you all heard right: I just had the nerve to preach to you about taking something seriously! Given that I’m from New Orleans, that’s pretty damn funny…and for those of you lucky enough to know me personally, it’s f–king high-larity! Sure, I’ve got absolutely no room to talk, but in this case, neither does anybody else! In fact, when it comes to hurricane preparedness, the only thing more ridiculous than the attitude of most Southern Louisiana residents is the fact that this lethal indifference is a statewide phenomenon.
Don’t get me wrong; Baton Rouge is going to get its ass kicked, as it definitely falls within the “blast radius” of any direct hit the state may sustain. New Orleans, on the other hand, serving as “ground zero,” will experience nothing less than utter f–king chaos. The fact that it’s going to be that much worse down here makes our failure to address the problem, well…that much worse. And by that, I mean that it’s going to be right on par with the end of civilization as we know it.
I’m afraid that, yet again, Baton Rouge is about to be upstaged by its brilliant but unstable older brother, New Orleans. In this case, though, that may actually be in Baton Rouge’s best interests. Not to suggest that there haven’t been times when it was “Big Brother Easy” who was forced to take a backseat (after all, New Orleans isn’t the capital of anything half as official as a state, even when the state in question is Louisiana), but this won’t be one of those times. Although due to little more than its geographic location, New Orleans has nonetheless beaten out all of its sibling settlements throughout Acadiana to land the starring role in the country’s biggest, blockbuster, coming attraction of a catastrophe! And nothing on our resume, not our long-standing designation as “Party Capital of the World,” nor even our brief stint as “Murder Capital of the World,” could have scarcely begun to prepare us for this most undesirable and demanding of roles.
Wow! Even with all the excitement centered on my hometown, we’ve still somehow managed to spend less time worrying about all of it down here than you guys have up there! That means there are even fewer people hereabouts that have a plan, save maybe leaving before it’s too late (which won’t happen) or perhaps constantly watching the news coverage from ground zero (which won’t save us). Furthermore, most of those who do have a plan simply plan on having a party. Sound ridiculous? Yes, all of this is pretty funny until one stops to appreciate the sheer scope and severity of what it is we’re ignoring…and then, just like when someone gets hurt, it’s just hilarious!
So how bad is “catastrophic” really going to be? Hmmm…how best to impress upon my readers just how bad…got it! Okay. We’re all familiar with FEMA, right? If not, one needs look no further than any good Jerry Bruckheimer production: FEMA is who the main character works for. Once this has been established, the Federal Emergency Management Agency will then predictably dispatch their attractive, up-and-coming young maverick to the scene of the asteroid impact/earthquake/volcanic eruption/magnetic core shutdown/pillow fight in an attempt to…well, federally manage the emergency. Awkward romantic subplots and slow-motion explosions follow in droves, but before the movie’s over, our hero will have somehow beaten the odds and saved the day. Sadly, real life works a bit differently. Just as Mr. Bruckheimer’s core audience is doomed to live out the rest of their lives asking the rest of us if we’d “like to super-size that for a quarter more,” all of us will likely face doom of one kind or another in the event of an emergency worthy of attention from FEMA. And by the way, the storm on Southern Louisiana’s horizon is already getting plenty of said attention.
So why is FEMA so concerned? What could possibly be more petrifying than a major earthquake hitting the San Francisco Bay area? Or another terrorist attack on New York City? The answer can be found in one of the Agency’s own publications, compellingly entitled: “A Mitigation Performance Analysis.” It tells us that the worst potential scenario for a natural disaster in the U.S. would be a category four or five hurricane scoring a direct hit on South Central Louisiana – with New Orleans starring as the bull’s eye. Such an event would cause the city’s levee system to fail. When it does, the earthy walls that once protected us and our stuff will become the walls of a drowning pool, one that could easily become the final resting place for a vast amount of our fair state’s character and culture.
The renaissance men over at FEMA have cleverly dubbed this chilling chain of events “Filling the Bowl,” since this swamp we call home is actually shaped like a bowl – the bottom of which is further beneath sea level than the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain. So, while “Filling the Bowl” would make a sh–tty movie title, rest assured, it will make for an even sh–ttier experience.
If you think I’m exaggerating, feel free to check out any of my sources. That may be the only way to convince some of you just how inevitable this biblical disaster is. I’m not saying that this could happen and here’s maybe how; instead, I’m screaming to all of you that it’s not a question of if, but when. It’s not like this is a far-fetched tale to swallow, either. According to the LSU Hurricane Center, South Central Louisiana has been hit by a major hurricane (categories 3-5) a record six times during the past one hundred years. Did I just say “record”? I did! Our state has finally won something! Does that mean it’s finally some other state’s turn to keep Mississippi company at the back of the pack? Oh, right – never mind; seeing as this is something negative, our old pal Mississippi will be right alongside of us as usual.
Now, you’re all probably saying to yourselves, “Fine, Chris, so a hurricane’s coming! Big deal! That hardly justifies all of that fire and brimstone talk that you were spouting at us earlier!”
Oh, doesn’t it? Exactly what did I say in my carnival barker-style intro? At some point, I promised you’d get to see the “dead rise,” didn’t I? Okay, well, to be fair, I probably should have said the dead “shall come outside to play” or something along those lines. Because in New Orleans, the dead would have a hard time “rising,” seeing as we don’t really bury them so much as we confine them to tiny stone houses in certain neighborhoods (ghetto style – no, really). When a nice-sized hurricane does make it to town, it’s going to mete out property damage across the board in a grand assault that will not discriminate based on mortal status. Thought you’d seen the last of your late Aunt Beatrice? Think again.
But rotting corpses are just the beginning! Trust me; these aren’t going to be your average floodwaters that merely ruin your carpet and upholstery, no sir! What “the bowl” will fill with will be something more accurately described as “nightmare soup.” And what about the “terrible beasts to be seen in great numbers” that I was touting earlier? Well, they certainly won’t be hard to find, since floodwaters in excess of twelve feet will leave us terrestrial creatures with precious little dry land to go around – and yes, there are species that share even worse than we humans do…
Fire ants, snakes, and rats come to mind right off the bat. I’m sure that, if you gave it some thought, you could plausibly imagine more epic territorial battles between larger mammals, both indigenous and otherwise. Who’s up for fighting some big cats from the Audubon Zoo for the right to sleep high and dry atop the lofty summit of Monkey Hill? Now things are starting to get interesting!
Let’s see, so far we’ve got monsters, your late Aunt Beatrice’s bloated corpse (a handy floatation device, perhaps?), and…what’s missing? Oh yeah, you’re not sick yet! Once a coalition of raccoons and nutria kick your ass off of someone’s roof, it’s a fairly safe bet that you’ve contracted something. From what, you ask? Take your pick, ‘cause all of it’ll be a part of the same cocktail: industrial waste, garbage, raw sewerage, and let’s not forget the rotting corpses! But at least you won’t feel singled out, as damn near 70% of our state’s population resides in a coastal zone, 90% of which is below sea-level – so don’t worry, the flooding should be so widespread that no one need worry about dying alone. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask the Red Cross (‘cause they know)… and they expect the death toll to land somewhere between 25 and 100 thousand.
Last but not least, there’s the wind – and I hereby waive my right to make any obvious jokes about how it’s going to blow. But all joking, subtle or otherwise, aside, it’s the wind that’s going to rival the “nightmare soup” insofar as wreaking havoc is concerned. A category five hurricane packs 155+ mph winds, with gusts as high as 200. As The Times-Picayune points out, that’s more than enough to uproot trees and toss around people and cars as if they were action figures and the vehicles from which they are sold separately. As scary as that may sound, when compared to marinating in the cesspool-like floodwaters, the wind may be just the thing to get “gone with.” (Okay, so I couldn’t resist making at least one obvious joke.)
Fine. So New Orleans is screwed…why should anyone in Baton Rouge care? Besides the fact that you’ll have nowhere to go to get the starch out of your jeans and have a good time once New Orleans goes the way of Sodom and Gomorrah, there are also more practical reasons to give a damn:
• While it won’t be as toxic nor as impossible to drain as the wrath-of-God flooding that the Crescent City is in for, Baton Rouge can expect some…well, watered-down flooding (for lack of a better term). In some spots, it will be deep enough to be potentially fatal to midgets, children, pygmies, and people who are just remarkably short. Remember Allison? That bitch was a mere tropical storm, and she still managed to put parts of East Baton Rouge Parish under five feet of water. I may not have been there, but my info comes from a reliable source: yes, it’s those zany nut-jobs over at FEMA again! If those guys aren’t a barrel of monkeys, then I don’t know what is! Unless, of course, we’re talking about an actual barrel full of live monkeys – then I’d know.
• Even though the death toll in New Orleans will be sky high, it won’t be nearly as high as the number of residents who will survive only to be left homeless. Now, if our hometown ceases to exist or is rendered uninhabitable for a time, where do you think we’re going to want to crash until we get our sh–t together? That’s right: good old Baton Rouge! That won’t be a problem, will it? C’mon, y’all have to have seen this coming; I mean, you’re the obvious best choice. Where the hell else is simultaneously close enough to be a realistic target for a mass evacuation, yet far away enough to be adequately dry relatively soon? To top it all off, Baton Rouge has the kind of well-entrenched infrastructure needed to accommodate a large number of refugees – and the space! Yep…plenty of room for the feds to set up all the pre-fabricated housing we’re going to need. Betcha that’s gonna look real classy…eh, neighbor?
So is there a shred of hope left for anyone in Southern Louisiana? Not really; no. The right storm will eventually come at the right time, probably long before any of the countermeasures currently on the drawing board could possibly do us any good. The most promising of these plans, says the LSU Hurricane Center, involves diverting the Mississippi into Breton and Chandeleur Sounds via the Bohemia Wildlife Management Area. They’re quick to point out that this would create thousands of acres of wetlands every year – that is, once it’s completed. Fat lot of good that’s going to do us a month or a year from now….
Looks like the good people of Baton Rouge are going to have to come to terms with the fact that the “Big One” is coming and so are some nasty floodwaters. Nasty; however, the Capital Edition of this statewide calamity will still pale in comparison to the New Orleans Original Clusterf–k it’ll be sharing a time slot with. And yet, second fiddle or not, the direct effect of a direct hit isn’t likely to be a bullet anyone’s going to be able to dodge. Interestingly enough, the scarcity of hope throughout Southern Louisiana is what’s going to provide Baton Rouge with its very own time to shine! There may be no stopping the flood, but you guys do stand a chance of avoiding the second half of your own worst-case scenario: getting stuck babysitting perhaps the worst-behaved children in America!
What in God’s name could possibly save you from us? Good question! For starters, we may not even be able to get to you: the I-10 bridge just outside of Kenner won’t be able to withstand the storm surge of a category four storm, much less that of a five. As for how the Airline Highway bridge over the Spillway will fare, well…quite frankly, nobody knows for sure. So tell us, Baton Rouge, how does it feel to be the sole possessor of the only hope left in all of Southern Louisiana?
That being said, there’s still no guarantee that those bridges will fail. What I can guarantee you is that Baton Rouge will be spared the onslaught of uninvited guests mentioned earlier. How? Even though it would make sense for the freshly orphaned sons and daughters of the late Big Easy to pop up on your doorstep seeking asylum, there are more powerful forces at work here than sense. Like whatever force it is that will compel nearly one in four New Orleans residents to go down with the ship.
In the end, it will be the inherent stupidity of most New Orleanians that saves Baton Rouge from having to deal with, well... most New Orleanians. Thousands of otherwise rational individuals hailing from as many different walks of life will decide to stay in a city that care may have forgotten but, at the same time, a city whose residents forgot to care that this was the case... and love it anyway. So why won’t we be on your doorstep? Why will we go down with the ship? I wish I could tell you. Whatever the reason is, though, it’s probably got a lot in common with why all of you capital citizens don’t want a mob of rowdy drunks in pre-fab housing f–king up your hometown. No one who loves something wants to see it endure catastrophic change – and I love my state, just as I love my city. And since I can’t stop the change, I’ll go down with the ship – and you’re all invited to the party.
redshtickmagazine.com |
