It's the End of the World. Sort of, Kinda, Maybe Not

When my mornings begin with me hearing my alarm radio alarm clock softly tell me that "Oil prices hit a record high for the 10th day in a row," or "There's a rice and flour shortage," or "President Bush is threatening to bomb some Axis of Evil country, " I kind of feel like I'm in some Sci-fi, dystopian, disaster film. You know how those films start with the protaganist wondering around his apartment while the radio or cable news is on in the background. We the audience pay little attention to the crazy and awful news story that's being reported, but 15 minutes further into the film all of a sudden there is a fire ball raging through the
Lincoln Tunnel. Then we all think, "Oh my God, that's what they were talking about on the news in the opening, seemingly innocuous, scene." Well, it's on those mornings while I'm innocently brushing my teeth and NPR is giving me the early morning run down of world disasters that happened over night that I expect there to be a riot by noon. Or a plague by 2pm. It hasn't happened yet. I guess it's a lot harder to get out or working than they portray it the films.