I took my love and took it down
I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Till the landslide brought me down
I’ve long ago concluded that our planet hates us. Like, really hates us. With great fervor.
After thousands of years of evolution, we came along and started doing all this crazy shit. Tearing down trees. Building factories. Putting dangerous gases in the air. Planting chemicals. You name it.
And every year or so, we’re punished for it. It used to be the simple hurricanes, earthquakes, tropical storms, and the occasional tornado.
And now — landslides.
Up until now, I thought a mudslide was only an alcoholic beverage. And a landslide was something that only existed in a Fleetwood Mac song. And by golly, what a song it is. The Smashing Pumpkins version is also extremely good.
Unfortunately, these songs will likely not be playing on the radio anytime soon in the state of Washington, due to an actual landslide that demolished homes, steamrolled forests and killed 16 people last Saturday. Another 125 are missing.
The avalanche of mud and rock happened in Oso, Washington, a small town with just 180 people in it as of 2010. According to reports, the mud has the density equal to cement, and the landslide itself contains three times the volume of mud as there is concrete in the Hoover Dam.
And here I was thinking that a missing airplane was the strangest thing that happened this month.
Imagine sitting outside your home, enjoying some lunch and a nice bit of fresh air, when a cascade of mud suddenly engulfs you? So thick that you can’t even move? And it becomes the last thing you ever do in this world?
There’s so much to worry about in life: not getting hit by a car, not being struck by lightning, not suddenly learning that you have a dangerous peanut allergy to name a few, that you’re telling me I have to start worrying about mud too?
In the past, my biggest fright involving mud was accidentally stepping in it, and then, after being unable to get off my shoe, tracking it wherever I went for the next few hours. Because that sucks. No one likes to be “that guy” who singlehandedly muddied an entire living room floor.
But apparently mud can also kill you.
If “Mud” wasn’t already the name of a movie starring Matthew McConaughey, I’d suggest for someone to make a horror movie about people being killed off one-by-one by mud. Hey, if The Fog or The Mist could be a horror movie, so could a movie revolving around mud.
I’m officially afraid. Death by mud is by far the last way I want to die.
Except maybe going missing on an airplane.
That still wins.