Ah! Monday again! No gym this morning – it was thunder-storming when I was supposed to get up and FD SCP forbade me to motor with the threat of tornadoes about. An occasional absence is not that detrimental and I really didn’t want to sit about long enough waiting for chaos to collapse along with twice or more many people than usual, so I acquiesced to her direction. Or at least that is the excuse I will give.
During the extra time I had to sit about I reflected upon the nature of the situation, in particular the local emergency management instrumentality. I was drawn to this by a combination of the local noise level and FD SCP’s behavior. The foremost evidence of the former are, visually, great concrete poles festooned in Christmas tree fashion with great ugly sirens and loud speakers. These embellished poles, part of the emergency management warning and communication system, are also the primary auditory source of the noise.
I should add that these embellished poles are an abomination of eye and ear, an ugliness that destroys the comforting naturalness of any vista they pollute. There can be no question that these have to be some Yankee industrial invention; no Southron has so whacked a personality to design one. And when some emergency portends, the emergency management instumentality first fires off these sirens, which can penetrate even the skulls of the autistic deaf, and then mumble incomprehensibly over the loud speakers. They are the epitome of Bill Cosby’s monologue bus station announcements raised to at least the second, if not third, power.
This morning was no exception. I was awakened an hour before my norm by the sounds of sirens in the distance. If they had been in my immediate area they would have been 10 dB louder, at least, but as is they were shrill enough, wherever they were, to be heard above the noise of the rain and thunder, their persistence punching through the susurration of the storm. Shortly before I normally arose, FD SCP arose and activated the audio-visual electromagnetic receiver and began watching radar maps and listening to weather beavers. I shortly followed and she directed me to settle in as I was not about to risk my ORFness to the streets. All the while the sirens could be heard in the distance., punctuated by barbarian mumbles from the speakers.
This struck me as the norm and hence the root of that absence of trust in the local emergency management instrumentality. Simply put, they have no credibility. Their warning are not timely, nor accurate; their communication is as incoherent as they are incompetent. Now I will admit to the short comings of the technology, no loudspeaker will do what is claimed of these but I do fault their gullibility and stupidity in falling for the claims. This is merely added to the indictment.
The scale of the network is too great, encompassing too many unaffected with a small fraction at peril. The timing of the warnings is insensibly, inhumanely delayed, and bureaucratically delayed. Almost everyone ignores them except as a trigger to watch radar maps, listen to weather beavers, and make their own assessments. Clearly the instrumentality is almost irrelevant, hideously expensive, ineffective, and continued. In a word, it is political and thus irrepresentative of the citizenry, a paradigm of contemporary democracy, or its degeneration, in the Yankee republic.