Recently I had a conversation with an old friend of mine who knows much more than me about almost everything. The topic was BP and the profound environmental mishap taking place right now in the Gulf of Mexico. His thoughts on the subject were disturbing, and with that in mind, those of you who read this regularly and expect to enjoy slightly amusing and occasionally heartwarming anecdotes, should be forewarned that today’s topic is one of profound seriousness and dread. In fact, unless you just want to feel bad, I would recommend you go do something else entirely, perhaps take care of someone’s pretend sheep, for example, on Farmville, because today we must discuss something totally, totally serious. Namely, the resuscitation of Aerosmith’s career.
Aerosmith, for those of you too young to remember, were once a very important and influential rock band. Led by frontman Steven Tyler—yes, Liv Tyler’s father—and lead guitarist Joe Perry, Aerosmith walked their way into the music scene in the early 1970s with a number of now-classic, eternally-catchy rock songs. They remained relevant throughout the 1980s and enjoyed a revival in the 1990s before the advent of dancing boy bands began to replace actual musicians around the turn of the century.
While Aerosmith do remain the number-one selling American rock band of all time, their last truly significant contribution to pop culture came in 1998 when they provided the soundtrack mega-ballad Don’t Want to Miss a Thing for the hit disaster film, Armageddon. (This is the movie when Bruce Willis blows up an asteroid before it hits Earth, not to be confused with Sudden Impact, where Robert Duvall blows up part of a comet before it hits earth, or Twister, where Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton spend two hours running from I think maybe the same tornado while yelling at each other.)
Anyway, back to our initial topic: Disaster in the Gulf! After listening to my very intelligent friend, it occurred to me that this oil spill problem is, in some respects, like Armageddon in reverse. For starters, the oil field from which this hole is leaking is immense. It’s one of the largest on Earth, stretching all the way up to Alabama. If the leak isn’t contained, if it bleeds out, there’s enough oil to potentially suffocate not just the majority of marine life in the Gulf but also vast portions of the Atlantic Ocean. Without getting too detailed and running the risk of making it obvious I am not an environmental engineer, the worst case scenario is that the whole thing could make our climate change conversation seem cute in comparison. The day may soon come where instead of ordering surf and turf we’ll just be ordering turf, and by turf I mean an actual square foot of topsoil with grass on it.
So, it’s pretty bad right now and could get much worse if they don’t stop the leak. (I won’t tell you my friend’s assessment of BP’s capacity to actually do this.) Anyway, in the meantime, at least, I think it’s time for a sequel. It is summer, after all, and a good old fashioned Hollywood blockbuster might be capable of getting our minds off the increasing plausibility that 2012 might not just be another disaster movie to add to our list.
Armageddon II: Plug It Up! will pick-up in real time. Ben Affleck and Liv Tyler are now thirty-something parents, but, like most Hollywood thirty-something parents, they look wonderful and act curiously hip. Ben is still a “roughneck,” working on an oil rig far off the coast of Louisiana. Now, like his late father-in-law Bruce Willis, he’s in charge of his own crew comprised of Owen Wilson, Steve Buscemi, and, of course, Michael Clark Duncan, who can heal people by singing in his very deep voice.
In this fictionalized version of our disturbing reality, Ben’s crew is called in by the President—played by Chris Rock, because he’s had practice with the roll—to once again save the world. The following is a potential conversation held in the Oval Office.
Ben: With all due respect, Mr. President, what makes you think we can plug that leak?
Chris: Ain’t you the lucky guys that blew up that comet fourteen years ago?
Owen: Well, actually sir, that was really more of an asteroid than a comet.
Steve: Yeah, and, uh, we were in outer space, you know, not the bottom of the frikkin’ ocean.
Chris: Well, you know something boys? We’re out of options right about now, aren’t we? Way I figure it, you go get yourselves down to the Gulf of Mexico or we’re all gonna’ be swimmin’ in oil. Now get outta’ my house!"
Ben, after receiving some very wise advice from the ghost of Bruce Willis, decides he must once again save the world. But not, of course, before he shares a soft, heartfelt goodbye scene with his wife and children.
Which, finally, brings us back to Aerosmith. Aerosmith, despite their substance-abuse issues and infighting, will provide a gorgeous ballad for this tender moment. It will be wonderful.
Shortly thereafter, Ben and the boys will suit up for their deep sea mission in slow motion while the disembodied voice of the President offers this speech to a panicked world.
“Big oil companies always braggin’ ‘bout the stuff they supposed to do. Like drilling for oil without polluting the whole Gulf of Mexico. So what they want, a cookie? Here’s a cookie for you: We’re all gonna’ die unless those sorry guys in that tiny submarine figure out a way to plug that hole up. All right, enough of all this. Warm up that jet.”
Ben, of course, realizes that the only way to stop the leak is if one of them stays behind and sacrifices themselves for the sake of humanity. Because I don’t want to spoil the ending, I will only offer a hint. This time, it is not Bruce Willis.
The movie ends, though, on a mostly happy note. The credits will roll, the lights will go up, Steven Tyler will sing us all a love song that will make us go out and buy the soundtrack album. The point is, movies do end. Even sequels stop being made. Eventually.
But what about the leak in the Gulf of Mexico? Will that end? And even if it does, either because it was plugged up or it merely bleeds itself out, will we ever put an end to, or even remotely curb, our addiction to oil?
BP cut corners in their quest to secure this oil. Their short-sided greed killed eleven men, devastated a region’s economy and perhaps permanently ruined the ecosystem of the entire Gulf of Mexico.
Our national government’s response to this crisis has been typically uninspiring. Federal regulations meant to avoid such maladies were either too lax to begin with or weren’t adhered to strictly enough to be effective, depending on whom you ask.
Tony Hayward is confused. Barrack Obama dropped the ball. We can point fingers until all the oil in this once-green earth has run out and we still probably won’t be any closer to accepting the uncomfortable truth of the matter: sellers need buyers.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to drive into town and rent a movie to get my mind off all this mess.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment