If I were the kind of person who reads divine judgment into random weather events, I could have had a field day with the news that Isaac was threatening the Republican National Convention. It saddens me to think that pulpits across the country would surely have been ringing yesterday had the Democratic National Convention been in the projected path of the storm.
As it is, media vultures have noted that Isaac’s landfall could be an embarrassing reminder of the institutional failures that magnified the disastrous effects of Katrina. To my mind, contrasting images of hurricane-ravaged Gulf Coast communities and political partisans in extravagant celebration will be far more disturbing.
I’m not looking forward to either convention, as it means I won’t even be able to listen to my beloved NPR station for at least two weeks, possibly more depending on how much pre- and post- attention these non-events garner. For decades now, both conventions have been closely-scripted rubber-stamping parties and vulgar orgies of pseudo-patriotic excess. Watching them (or even hearing about them) is kind of like watching the dog hump the ottoman.
I’m actually disappointed that Isaac has veered off to the west. I had entertained fantasies of Isaac causing the RNC to be cancelled altogether, followed by a hurricane in the Atlantic that strikes the North Carolina coast in time to cancel the DNC as well. If God really were in the business of using weather to comment on human affairs, that would be the surest proof.