It’s the end of the world as we know it …

It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine.

SAVANNAH, Ga. — Actually, unlike the [tag]REM[/tag] song, I feel hot and somewhat sticky, as I’m in Savannah, GA at the moment. Maybe it is the heat and humidity that caused [tag]Wall Street[/tag] to melt down, and not years upon years of selling debt and encouraging people  who have no clear means of paying back that debt get more in debt, so that Wall Street can in turn sell that debt, and so on, and loan them more money they’ll never pay back, making financial services people hot and sticky in entirely different ways as they made money hand over fist.

[tag]Lehman Brothers[/tag] survived the crash of October 1929 and the ensuing Great Depression. Now it files bankruptcy.  But George W. Bush has faith in the system, so we shouldn’t be worried. And if Obama doesn’t save us with his meaningless rhetoric and empty promises, McCain and Palin will don their white hats and shoot at the big bad ogre of financial collapse with a big gun. Wasn’t it a big shooter from the West in a white hat that got us into this mess?

This is the one big issue I have with libertarianism; business is run by people, and people can’t be trusted when there is no visible means by which they can be punished for doing something obviously stupid for short-term gain. When it doesn’t seemingly hurt anybody that they can see, and they get rich in the process, what’s the problem? Where’s the harm? And thus, history repeats itself ad nauseum.

I was in such a good mood getting on the road this weekend. There is no better salve for a restless soul than the open road and singing at the top of one’s lungs to Social Distortion. But then miles upon miles of boring super highway coupled with morons that insist on driving five miles under the speed limit or 20 miles over (inspite of ridiculously expensive gas) and hearing the BBC pronounce the end of the world over and over, has weighed upon my psyche.

Fortunately, I saw the sun rise over the ocean as I walked on a beach at high tide this morning, and that makes everything better. No good pictures, though, as it was so hot and humid that as soon as took my camera out of my bag, the lens fogged over. Despite repeated wipings, by the time it had acclimated itself to the South Carolina swelter, the sun was high in the sky and the gloaming of the Atlantic morning had already burned off.

C’est la vie. It’s hard to get upset about anything while walking on the beach at sunrise. Let come what may. My Subaru is paid for. All it needs is a slightly bigger engine so it can haul around the extra fuel tank, siphoning apparatus and assorted roll cages, bars, and spikes I’ll need to survive the end of civilization.

As I say, I feel fine, if slightly sticky. But not sticky in a good way.