The Idiot Box

Flipping through the channels, I saw a firefighter dance montage to Buster Poindexter's "Hot Hot Hot," and on the next station, explicit coverage of the hurricane aftermath.

I flipped back and forth for a few minutes.

The firefighters were all in uniform, dancing. The camera cut spastically between small groups: two guys jumped awkwardly around a pole, cut to two women who grinned wide and pumped their arms in circles, cut to another two guys doing synchronized sit-ups. -- Flip -- A newscaster points to the space where a house used to be. All that's left is the foundation. Cut to an aerial shot, a city sinks. Cut to a woman chasing down a National Guard transport, so her and her son can escape. -- Flip -- "Feelin' hot hot hot" Overhead shot of the firefighters, kicking out alternate legs, smiling, jumping up and down. -- Flip -- Makeshift pool in the ninety plus heat. A naked baby wails as he's hosed down in cold water. A man leads the camera crew through his warehouse and explains all the perishables he's donated to the effort.

For good measure I flip in another direction, and see the President waving and holding his dog.

It's the perfect triptych. If only we weren't five hundred years too late for Bosch to do it justice. I mean, we've already got the bird-headed monster. All we need now are a few walking eggshells and we're set.