A Wolf at the Door. (It Girl. Rag Doll.)

Play above song before reading. Set the fucking mood.

We have cell phones that send pictures in tiny digital packets across oceans and continents.

We have games beyond number with the ability to sense how we move in our Ikea-clad living rooms, and react accordingly to our idiocy.

We have  cigarettes. We have t-shirts. Blue jeans. Tupperware.

We have the ability to go from one end of the country to the other in six hours.

We live in a world of endless wonders. Countless little miracles.

You flip a switch in the dark, and suddenly you can see. You turn a dial, and suddenly you get cool air. You have ICE in a machine in your kitchen.

You will never experience malaria or diphtheria or typhoid or polio or bubonic plague because these diseases, which have killed entire continents, have been all but wiped from the face of the earth by scientific advancement.

With all of that said, can someone please explain to me why in the CRISPY MOTHER FUCKING CHRIST WE CANNOT FIX A HOLE IN A PIPE ON THE GODDAMN FLOOR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO? Can someone please explain to me like I’m five years old? I feel like I’m crazy here, but did we not graft a human ear to the back of a mouse a few years back? DID WE NOT CLONE A SHEEP?

Aren’t we the superior species on the planet? Are we not the animal that reached beyond it’s instincts and learned to manipulate stone and control fire? Granted, it may have been all downhill from there, but our spoiled misery doesn’t grant us amnesty from the responsibilities we burden as caretakers of this planet.

I’m no tree-hugger. I’m no Greenpeace-sucking sandal-wearing furry-pitted whale-watching hippie. Sometimes … I forget to recycle. I hate granola. I really hate jam bands. A lot. But not as much as I hate seeing some poor seagull covered from eyeballs to toenails in the thick, toxic waste of crude oil. There is nothing more pathetic than a beach full of pelicans trying to clean the muck out of their feathers and in turn swallowing the poison that will block their guts and kill them.

It is spawning season in the gulf right now.

Say goodbye to an entire generation of shrimp, tuna, turtles, hundreds of different species of seabirds and wetland foul, and thank PB and our government for once again stepping up and solving the problem right away instead of ball-scratching and finger-pointing their way to total incompetency.

We have not learned anything since the 2005 disaster that was Katrina. This is just as bad.

And for those of you who read this website because you live here on the Jersey Shore, just know that our fearless leader is still all about building one of these drill platforms off of the coast of Rhode Island. Guess who’s beach gets fucked if one of these disasters that “Never happens” happens…again?

See that pretty yellow-orange band that sweeps up the east coast of the United States? It’s called the Gulf Stream. And it’s going to bring everything that poisoned the gulf water there to your front door. Mad yet?  Do you feel violated by the incompetency of others yet?

If you guessed THE ENTIRE NEW JERSEY COAST, you’d be correct! Your prize? Being unable to swim in the ocean for up to five years due to concentrations of oil dispersants and, well … oil. Oh, and let’s not forget the bacteria-laden corpses of dolphin, porpoise, whale, schoolfish, etc that will be washing up on the beaches for years to come. They’re already being scooped out of the gulf, slick with Texas Tea.

In closing, I just hope that everyone is as angry about this abomination as I am. I know it’s easy not to think about it, but remember: everything is connected. This affects you.