Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Weight of Water

I was only able to watch the tsunami footage the one time. Part of it was the trauma of witnessing a literal cataclysm. And then I was drawn away because my new episode of House was about to come back from commercial. It was the good one too. This guy got really sick, then only exhibited worsening symptoms when engaged in character developing conversations with key members of the main cast. Then he was nearly subjected to a cripplingly invasive procedure only to be saved at the last minute because Hugh Laurie got that weird face palsy he gets every time he talks to Robert Sean Leonard, recovering in time to save the day, all in a very convincing American accent.

I think the most frightening thing about the tsunami is the realization of how illusory the comforts of first-world civilization are. Of course there are mind-blowing material advantages in terms of quality of life just in infrastructure alone. I don't think anyone would argue they'd have rather been in Japan than Indonesia come the deluge. Even as compunded as the Sendai Disaster has become by the very, very first-world problem of nuclear fission, I'd still prefer my chances against the angry, angry escaped isotope than face down the risen sea with only a palm tree and a thatched-roof hut for my shelter.

The tsunami footage, I'm confident in saying, is the worst thing I've ever seen. 9/11 might have shaken me more on a visceral and immediate level, but once it became clear that the threat had passed, I was able to assimilate that and put it behind me by doing what Americans do when faced with crisis: hanging out the flag and watching the subsequent war on TV. This is not to say that I've forgotten or that it's less horrible an event, but it was, after all, a wholly human endeavor. Not just physically, but way down at the drill-down core of motivation, no matter what you imagine it to be. It's people doing in people for people-generated reasons with people-made weapons.

Something like this is different because, unless you're a complete and total asshole, there's no logic to it beyond the cosmic-scale logic of rudimentary planetary physics and hydrodynamics. With the obvious exception of Angry Jesus, nobody planned this. Just as nobody will plan the next Giant Unexpected Emmerich Event that plagues us.

The last time it really rained hard out here in SoCal, I remember driving home in it at something like 2 in the morning (I'm single, remember) and trying to think of the number of countries in the world where it would be a) possible or b) safe to drive 70 miles an hour in a fucking wet gale in the middle of the night without the reasonable expectation of paralysis or death. The answer is: not a whole lot. We've put the money and the resources in. Infrastruture-wise, we have it where it counts.

I've been reading a lot of speculative scenarios about what if something like the Sendai event were to hit SoCal or Seattle or Alaska or Hawaii. The Alaska thing made me laugh a tiny little bit, sure, but past that, I could only think there is no security that is actual security. Even amazing things like passable roads and on-demand potable water are tissue-thin smallpox blankets thrown over the ramparts by an unamused and conquering Mother Earth.

I think if we found the nerve center of our civilization and conjured up the self-awareness to disregard the disembodied head with the booming voice, we'd actually be relieved to pull back the curtain in the corner and find an unassuming bald fucker throwing a bunch of switches. At least that would imply someone had some kind of functional control over something. But I have the creeping, horrifying feeling that were we to throw back the curtain, all we'd find is a monkey riding a dog. And I'd probably know as much about interpreting design or intent from that as I would a tsunami.

The good news is, we're people. It was us who split the atom. If we had never done that, those 50 essential personnel at Fukushima wouldn't be the heroes we know them as today. We can remake the building blocks of the physical world. There's no security that isn't attainable if we are willing to disregard the cost, even if the enemy is the earth itself. Maybe we could try tapping its phones without a warrant.

3 comments:

kittens not kids said...

you said this all extremely well. far better than I could have.

i didn't watch much of the coverage of the tsunami. now i've only been watching uplifting videos of cats and dogs who survived the tsunami and have been reunited with their people.

the absolute helplessness of humans in the face of massive forces of nature is a terrible thing to see. it's made worse by tv commentators who somehow fail to acknowledge that we're watching real destruction and death when we're shown a boat pulled in at the edge of a whirlpool, or huge waves sweeping over a city with still-moving cars in the not-so-distant background.

in less depressing (i hope) news, does driving home at 2am mean you're a Man About Town who is getting some?

Poplicola said...

KnK: I hadn't really considered that the ohmygosh footage of boats on city streets kind of misses the point about the fact that there's a BOAT ON CITY STREETS. Like, less about the novelty and more about the cause-and-effect. And as for how I said it, thanks, but most days I forget I'm supposed to write and am left scrambling. For the most part, I just wanted to make sure I worked in the dog-riding monkey video.

kittens not kids said...

well, yeah; the primacy of the monkey riding the dog (at a dog rodeo?) kind of goes without saying.

(though I have to say, I am not at all certain that monkey was happy to be riding the dog. and I was also reminded of the scene in Peewee's Big Adventure when Peewee ends up in the rodeo).