Mood: don't ask
Topic: "A Perfect World"
Frodo is not exactly sure when, and from whose lips, he first heard someone say that if one could simply remove everything that Man had done, then the World would again be perfect. Frodo has spent a lifetime struggling against that assertion, and just when he thinks that he has documented evidence to the contrary, a group of clucks from Halliburton, or British Petroleum, or the State of Louisiana displace a hundred million gallons of fossilized carbon by-product upon the surface of our small blue planet, and that which is good, dies.
A dozen years ago, Frodo and Sam cruised from the Port of Orleans, down the Mississippi, to the Gulf of Mexico in order to visit selected ports of call in the Western Caribbean. As they returned to native waters, Frodo stood the better part of the night-time hours staring, aghast, at the beauty of the oil rigs which lit the skies with multi-colored brightness. Like the trees of Christmas, the blues and the greens reflected off the orange and pink of the sunset and the rise that followed. Frodo recalled stories of the improved fishing around the oil rigs, and he marvelled at the capacity of his ship's captain to navigate through the channels marked by these surface portions of structures standing more than three miles above the bottom of the ocean floor. Frodo convinced himself that Man had taken that which was Nature"s own and used it, properly, for the good of all.
Frodo began to question his assessment when he heard the unwise preaching to the unknowing, and phrases like "drill baby, drill" resonated amidst the clapping and the cheers. Was it not true, in spite of the best of governmental engineering, that a whole city was destroyed by the inability of Man to combat Nature's kinetic energies? Has it not happened, time after time, that greed has entered into the most formidable of circumstances resulting in disasterous results?
What lies before our shores would never have been there if Man had not, a mere century ago, developed the internal-combustion engine. Had Man satisfied himself with the speed of the wind or the force of falling waters, then he would never have needed to remove that which Nature had spent millions of years hiding from him.
If only Man had left things as he found them. The price he pays will grow each and every day, as the magnitude of the disaster attacks his home, his sustenance, and his future. All it takes is a match, in the wrong place, at the right time, whose ignition answers the promise of that which follows the Great Flood.
Frodo wil, take each day as it comes, and will do his part to ease the suffering which he has helped to create.