Letters To A Green Earth

So here we are, the earth’s fever rising inexorably in the guise of global warming, which leaves us contemplating our tropical paradise and how it is likely to shape up in the next few decades for our friends in Idaho, say, who will be watering their ferns each morning, slapping on the sun screen, schleppin down to the lake and snoozing bare ass on a towel under the sun. In January.  The whole time keeping an eye out for elephants and leopards. How weirder and weirder is becoming the world, especially its politics.  Looking back to the last election over the subsequent political actions of the administration, you realize that Obama and Romney were suckling the same political tit on the guberno-corporo-military-industrial wolf. I now think of them as Romulus and ReamUS. As for everything else, things in LA are going along in the same old direction, waiting for the next earthquake, lashing ourselves into the cockpit, realizing that in any quake worth 5 stars, your house becomes a river raft, and off you go into the raging brown rapids, the earth bucking and heaving and roaring in waves of really pissed-off soil and rock, and there’s nothing you can do but curl up in a fecal ball next to the toilet and pray to the Earth.


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