"I'm here, at the end of the world, in a gas line," texted my philisophical pal, GWB. It seemed that gasoline and water were in short supply because of panic buying. To put it bluntly, there was no more gasoline in Dallas.
"It's OK here," I replied, "We're prepared in the country." But not so fast, LSP. On the way back from evening Mass I thought I'd fill up the tank and discovered that all the filling stations in town had run out of their prime commodity. Except two; I chose the one with the shortest line.
A Gas Shortage Dog
Ten minutes later the rig was full and ready to go and I shot off a text to my Wittgensteinian ally, "I have gas, guns, ammo, water, food, axes, knives and wine. Bring. It. On." He was impressed and took a pause from critiquing Bertrand Russell's miserable numbers theory, "You're ready to rock. I have a water filter."
Hunh, he had me there. What happens when the water's gone and you need to purify what's coming out of the Brazos or the toxic Trinity? That's when the filter comes in handy.
No Gas
Seriously, this incident of panic buying that's created a shortage when there wasn't a shortage makes you wonder what things would be like in a real emergency. Nasty, I'll warrant.
In related news, a banana peel was discovered in a tree at Ole Miss, causing the college to go into a paroxysm of self-recrimination at the sheer racist atrocity of it all.
But hold on, why should a banana peel in a tree be racist?
You do the math,
LSP
