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By Root 137 0

one. And a new computer, too—mine is such a piece of shit that it makes me dream about the joys of using a manual typewriter. And when am I going to find a new cell-phone provider so I have a workable phone instead of just a bad camera that I don’t even use? Granted, I need to download those pictures I took two years ago when I was with . . . well, somebody, I don’t remember, but they were nice. And I’ve always wanted to learn another language—French, maybe. When am I going to find the time to do that? It’s my life, I should be able to keep up with it, goddamnit. How do people with real jobs and real lives do it? How do they get so much done? And still find the time to go to the gym?

And this is the time when I kick myself for all the many friends I have lost along the way. I am not talking about those who’ve died but the people I have lost contact with. I haven’t stayed in touch. Why? Because I can’t get to the next sentence fast enough. See what I mean? Am I making myself clear? Of course not.

So in the midst of my struggle to write something—anything—an epic earthquake hits Haiti. Haiti! Are the people there the unluckiest fucks on planet Earth or what? What kind of hideous cosmic joke is this? God certainly does work in mysterious ways, but this time maybe he went too far. Why go after Haitians, who have nothing? To show them that they can have less? Or was God aiming for Miami, got distracted by genocide in the Congo, and he missed? (Wouldn’t it have made more sense to go after Las Vegas? Hello! Sodom and Gomorrah. I read the book. There’s no mention of poverty-stricken islands anywhere.)

I am not questioning God’s wisdom, just his sense of justice. What astonishes me is how many Haitians were in the corpse-ridden streets, singing God’s praises. That’s a faith that is almost unfathomable to me. I understand it doesn’t help under these horrific conditions to bitch, moan, and generally take God’s name in vain, but I’m the kind of asshole who gets pissed when the line at the checkout counter is too long. But in the midst of destruction and a tragedy of epic proportions, to be singing God’s praises, that’s as crazy as my whining.

Am I wrong? Am I missing something? Is it comforting? As I watch the news, I learn that a lot of these people haven’t had water in days. Their loved ones are dead. Their houses are rubble. What little livelihoods they had are now gone. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are just around the corner.

“Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! For he hath brought forth the anchor-people, the reporters, the cameramen with video cameras of every size, shape, and description, to cover every square inch of this ever-expanding horror. Hallowed be thy name.”

Haiti, don’t you see, you are more than just a country now. You are a story. A great big goddamn glorious story that will fill the massive flat-screen TVs around the world, where people are leading lives that you can only dream about. Now you’ve become their dream and they can use it to advertise products that will make their lives oh so much better if they use them regularly, while you sink further into your abyss of misery. Take heart, O Haiti, you are the story, and it doesn’t get better than that. Unless we could turn you into a reality show, but no one is ready for reality that’s actually fucking reality. Hey, TV viewer, you think your life sucks? Well, give us five minutes and we will show you what the word “sucks” really means. We’ll put a smile on your face and sell you a whitener so that those chompers of yours sparkle.

Merry Christmas, Haiti. I can’t wait for the Christmas Special. Haiti: After the Tinsel Falls. Santa visits Haiti to bring toys for everyone, interview survivors, and host special guests Donny and Marie Osmond.

I bet you were wondering how I’d make the catastrophe in Haiti relate to Christmas. See? It was easy. Everything relates to Christmas. Everything relates to everything. You can relate any two points in the entire universe. But if you do, be careful: your head might explode.

While I was watching this tragedy unfold, I