The Wet Menace 

I hate it when my worldview gets challenged. Think about how long it takes just to come up with one that isn’t totally tired ? like, being a liberal is righteous but sometimes involves patchouli, and neo-conservatism is hot but the fashion sucks, and Pentacostalism and Mormonism are super awesome but won’t let me mainline Maker’s Mark. So when I finally come up with some sort of fashionable mishmash ? like, the smugness of neo-conservatism with the tears of the liberal ? some new threat to civilization has to destroy half of the Gulf Coast, and also the Superdome, and thus the very fabric of humanity and the precious balance of my coolness. 

I think you know what I’m talking about here. No, not “global climate change,” jeez. That is a pinko myth perpetuated by the cult of Toyota Prius owners who will stop at nothing to get us all puttering around in Toyota Priuses like some sort of pod-people supraculture. And I’m not even talking about Hurricane Katrina or any other deadly  weather systems named after Czech strippers. I’m talking about the wicked, pervasive force that was both the underlying cause and consequence of that Czech-stripper-windy whore: something much bigger, eviler, and much, much wetter. It’s water, people. Water will destroy us all. Because listen, how do hurricanes start? Over land? Over land? Over land? No, bitches, they start over the ocean. And how do storms ruin everyone’s lives? By pelting rain and flooding: by water. It is all water’s fault! Sixty-six percent of the Earth’s surface is only the beginning. Water, now even worse than gays and Ruth Bader Ginsberg combined!

Listen, you might have been brainwashed by the television to think that water is the most preciously vital element of life on Earth, and that would be understandable. Without glucose-saturated water in a pink bottle, can you finish your ordeal on the elliptical cross-trainer? Without a swimming pool, can you properly see your cellulite and therefore need to purchase $400 thigh cream? Without ten million miles of water between us and Asia Minor, would we be able to pretend all those stupid wars aren’t going on and concentrate instead on the continuing disappearances of pretty white girls the country over ? whose unfortunate corpses always seem to end up where? Lakes, oceans, rivers ? just try and tell me you don’t see it!

Luckily for you, I’m smart enough to recognize the Wet Menace for what it is. And brave enough to alter my worldview, once again, despite the pain and reshuffling of bumper stickers it may provoke. If I have to lead by example, so be it. I’ll start persecuting water right this second. As soon as I finish this cup of coffee, I’m going to bypass liquids altogether and switch to cocaine. I will eat only that synthetic PowerBar goo that sustained Lance Armstrong on the Tour de France, and as a bonus, if enough of you follow my lead, water will be outlawed and thus so will riding one’s bicycle for inordinate amounts of time at ridiculous speeds for no discernible reason ? and thus also those obnoxious rubber bracelets. Without all that unnecessary water, think of how thin I’ll be. It will be physically impossible for me to cry. Humanity will finally reach its full potential. 

Sure, none of this is going to give all those poor people in New Orleans their homes back right away, or un-fight any wars, or return any pretty white girls to safety. But it would immediately stop otherwise-reasonable people from using the verb “hydrate” in total seriousness, and that’s just a drop in the bucket. As it were. So come on, join the fight. Carpe anti-aqum! That wasn’t right, but Latin is for the water-dependent enemy. ?


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