Hurricanes

Hurricanes are entertaining. They give me something to read about and watch on the news. I don’t see how you can be mad at them, since they’re simply forces of nature minding their own business, trying to put on a good show. I feel no more sympathy the trailer park residents who lose their homes in each of Florida’s several dozen hurricanes every year than I do for ants in my backyard. Just as the ants are fully aware that I’ll kick over each and every one of their hills at my earliest convenience, Florida trailerparkers should be aware that a ‘cane will do some double-wide dissection at least once every other year. The ants don’t complain or receive federal aid, and the Floridians should follow the example.

What’s that you say? It’s wrong to find hurricanes entertaining because they kill people sometimes? Well, I like dogs even though they’ll chew on people every now and again. And I like the movie XXX, even though stuntman Harry O’Connor III was killed in the making of it. At some point, you need to be able to separate the tragedy of death from the joy of entertainment. At their tender core, hurricanes are just delightful aquatic showmen.