Monday, March 11, 2002

The day dawned full of West Texas promise in Midland. But this is not a story that the Visitors Bureau will want you to read. No, this is a story of hate, venom, and and abhorance at such a deep level it will shock the casual reader. Though usually a pleasant burg, when the wind blows rampant in Midland, it is as if we have descended into the very bowels of Hades, Lower Hades. It is the birthplace of Satan, on the wrong side of the river Styx. A veritable cesspool of the natural process. Dysfunctional meterology.

This is the story of Dust! Dust that eats it's way into a person's very humanity. Dust that fills every micron of ones existance, robs one's soul of dignity. When the dust comes to Midland, insanity reigns. And the "Weather Channel", channel of what.......Morons? They told me at breakfast the winds would be "breezy"....15-20 mph. Mild for Midland. But do they think that 55 mph is "breezy". Morons of the first order, they should be called the "Moron Channel". Perhaps the wind hit them first and drove them crazy, perhaps.

By noon, the skies had lost the sun and blue was just a memory as the golden glow of the remains of several counties to the North wafted overhead. How many tons, megatons of dirt really, one wonders, are drifting overhead. Ready to descend directly on to my front porch, and tasteful Mexican tile patio. God only knows.
I wonder what the homicide rate in Midland was today....dust drives people to desperate acts. They feel that they have no other choice but to kill someone, and go to prison to get away from the dust. Why do I live here, what kinds of lunatic can stand this for long. But I answer my own question.