The very mysterious person behind this excellent blog just pointed out via comment below that a tidal wave in Orange County wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing despite my fear of it (or rather, that I fear it more than I fear a terrorist attack–and let me say that now that people who are reasonable, remotely intelligent, and not hegemonic holy warlords are in charge of Congress, the people who hate America will probably start hating America a shitload less because America will stop projecting a unilateral asshole-bully image to the rest of the world, juu huu). S/he was then nice enough to point out that since I live here currently (and have the fake boobs and $900 sweatpants to prove it), an OC tsunami might be a bummer.
That’s very kind, but I have to say: if there actually were an OC tsunami I think I’d be OK to take one for the team. If it meant wiping out the Speculum and the HQ of TBN, I think I’d actually be somewhat resigned to die. The best part about it, of course, would be all the assholes in their SUVs rushing to get inland, one person per car, clogging up the freeway, running out of gas with the AC blasting, reapplying lipgloss and passive-aggressively creeping forward in the gridlock as the water got closer and closer. Nobody here would think, for example, to pack more than one person into one of the giant automobiles they drive here (each of which would fit a family of 350 just in the back), or to find a highrise and chill in the top floors (because ORANGE COUNTY HEARTS SPRAWL and highrises are for fatties), or to undergo the outdoor physical exertion required to clamber to the top of a mountain (though perhaps if someone explained that a "mountain" was kind of like an elliptical trainer but without a hookup to a little TV that might work OK).
I, on the other hand, might be wily enough to avoid the OC tsunami and then I would get the incomparable pleasure of visiting a postapocalyptic Irvine Spectrum, looting thinly-veiled vibrators from the rubble of the Sharper Image and using them to repopulate the region (I haven’t quite figured out the "how" on that one yet…), burning the excessive decor from one of the PJ O’Ling Xing Cubana Fake Fusion Drunkihan’s chain restaurants as a heat source, composting the corpses of the stubborn shoppers who wouldn’t leave and creating a self-sustaining farm where the ice rink now is (an ice rink in Southern California, in the middle of a mall that pretends to be a fake city with real streets but which is actually a mall bordered on all sides by freeway where nobody lives…or actually, they do)…I have to say, it’s sounding better and better.*
* (it’s week 8, papers are due soon, exams are impending, I have no money, the godforesaken holidays are approaching and I get nihilistic this time of year, fuck off!)