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The Aiiee of the Storm

People are a fussy lot. Give them glorious servings of almost commercially cheery sunshine and they call it sweltering. Respond by sprinkling a little bit of rejuvenating rainfall and they call it beastly, even going so far as to refer to that meteorological wreck of a place, London.

So it really shouldn't have been much of a surprise that after months of squeaking about how the rainfall quota was far from fulfilled, that they would just let rip with rain and cram a month's rainfall into a period of twenty four hours, like an inexplicably pseudo-American Australian Asian student cramming what should have been six years worth of studying into a weekend. And like any other attempt of the like, both ended up with uncontrollable bouts of sobbing, with the interesting point that both were occurring nation-wide.

In fact, both are uncomfortably relatable topics to me because I'm currently in the midst of both, standing in a bus stop whose architects never heard of combinations of rain and WIND, sobbing about my lack of Chinese vocabulary while wishing that the heavens weren't doing the same.

I've just gotten on a number 198 bus, having made a heroic dash through the gauntlet of rainfall from the bus stop to the entrance of the bus. This bit of getting on and off buses in the rain is another sneaky bit of work by the architects who seem to be determined in getting you wet (Ho Yay). If you've somehow managed to evade the cleansing spray of pristine rain water and the waves of tried and tested road water that's filthy enough to negate any appeal the rain water might have offered, then congratulations, assassin from feudal Japan, but let's see you get through THIS.

But nitpicking aside, the storm that I'm seeing outside of the bus and inside of the world right now, yes, I think it's proven itself enough to be called a storm because really, wow, it's enough to be described as a doozy of a storm, has got to be one of the most intimidating ones I've been in. It's like an eccentric fireworks maker collaborating with a SWAT team. I actually got thrown off by a flash of lightning, actually had to shut my eyes because of the brightness. Also, adding to the storm's organization analogy there, both the fireworks maker and SWAT team have consulted a psychologist for knowing the best time to chuck in some thunder after the victim recovers from the lightning flash prior to that and thinks it's safe to start thinking again.

It's really an impressive, frightening maestro of a storm and the sort that makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, those crazy anti-global warming environmentalists might be right after all, and if they're going to spit out the proverbial phrase that stings more than any hearty bout of heavenly hell-raising: WE TOLD YOU SO.