Truly one of the last things you want to see when you get out of bed in the middle of the night is a roomful of flames where your house is supposed to be. You wanted a glass of water, not a fire hose. That seems to be the lovely situation in California lately however, where massive wild fires have been raging all over the state in unprecedentedly destructive ways, forcing prudent people to flee their homes, and leavin the stubborn slobs who stay extra crispy. Who knew granola was so flammable?
I know we all heartily chuckle at Cali every year at their perennial, mostly harmless wild fires that scorch some shrubs and maybe burn a bum or two alive—you know, fires that do no real damage—but this inferno is insane. Even the fire is on fire. Every image I see of this catastrophe on the news looks like the last scene for the newest “end of the world”-themed movie. Except this shit ain’t no CGI.
And this “Hell on Earth” as Mobb Deep would say is going to take more than a Backdraft sequel’s worth of fireman to put out. Reportedly 12-hour shifts have become standard just to be able to barely battle the blaze, with some of the less flame retardant and more just plain retarded fireman volunteering for 18-hour shifts. Others have just skipped the preamble and dove headfirst into the flames. Also in true progressive California fashion, the dirty hippies did what else but chucked a few chicks at the problem. Of course, these “fire broads” or “hose bags” as they are affectionately known, all happen to be female prison inmates working for the whopping, life-changing sum of a goddamn dollar a day—but if you think that’s not a lot of money you should see the veritable cornucopia of cigarettes it can buy.
But it’s going to take more than noble solutions like overworking people to death or modern-day “flame slavery” to put out this bad boy. It seems that after dampening much of the southern United States with multiple hurricane pisses, that cranky old cunt Mother Nature has now cruelly decided to take a magnifying glass to the west coast like so many unlucky ants. Not to mention shining it on Spain and Brazil, where similarly raging fires are burning uncontrollably. All while climate deniers continue to insist that everything’s hunky dory because they can’t find the chapter titled “greenhouse effect” in their supposed non-fiction book about an invisible man who lives in the sky. That’s fine logic considering the fuckin word “toilet” doesn’t appear in that ancient idiocy either. At this rate, pretty soon we’ll be able to roast marshmallows with the planet.