Lessons from Hurricane Lane

The main lesson to be learned from the Hurricane Lane debacle is that crisis and survival are just another shopping event. Crazed shoppers were ramming their carts kamikaze-style into everyone and everything in a frenzied rush of hoarding much like what transpires annually on “Black Friday.” The only difference is that the carts were filled with junk food, bottled water, and various sundries to protect so-called “property.” Survival is now merely the ability to grab “stuff” off the shelf as quick as possible.

With emergency measures in effect, everything was shut down. Parks were closed. Bus service was terminated. Shopping and dining venues were closed. The only option was to remain sequestered in the ol’ mausoleum (read: “home”) with the tube, “smartphone,” and the hoarded junk food. Really, that’s the extent of the “ownership society.” The commons no longer exists. Outside of the mausoleum, the threat of trespassing charges always looms.

Community Room

Likewise, being forced to spend several hours in the community room at the “old folks home” is akin to the proverbial Chinese water torture. The same “little old ladies” are there daily, always stationed across the small wall-mounted LCD tube. Basic cable tube access is provided, so the “little old ladies” have quite a few channels to choose from. There’s always food at their tables, most of which was procured at Zippys across the street. Sadly, life at the “old folks home” can be summarized as a kind of hospice.

Hurricane Lane should have invoked serious introspection about the sad existence that the rank-and-file peons must endure. Human life has been reduced to shopping and consumption. Nothing more, nothing less. In the grand scheme, it’s more like a huge “old folks home.”