Sundayness: What We Talk About When We Talk About Nothing.

Mother Nature’s a Bitch…Or Is She?

“It started off as a joke,” Mother Nature (Mexico Branch) says giggling, “but then I kind of got addicted.” She aims a gnarled tree branch with a Mexican flag sticking out at the end from her pink cloud in the stratosphere down towards the thin layer of gray smog covering the Federal District, capital of the Republic of the United States of Mexico. She purses her lips and a sound like wind chimes doing “Cielito, Lindo” emanates from nowhere, twinkling like laughing stars, and then it begins to rain.

No one ever believes me,” she says wistfully, smoking a joint and floating lazily as small cartoon flowers flit about her head counterclockwise. She wears her 3287 years well, though the flapper dress she wears is a bit dated. “They think I’m a raging bitch, PMSing for half the year. But it’s a tick at this point, like those people who crick their necks too much. A mild addiction maybe, like coffee or TicTacs. It’s nothing personal. And honestly, I don’t get all the hubbub – it’s just water.”

Rain has always been the great catch 22 of the entire world. Water spilling from above, especially in large quantities, tends to cause property damage, diminish commercial success, and induce a general foul mood in mammals. It provokes illness, ruins plans, and makes clothing heavy and uncomfortable. However, without these deluges, crop growth is impossible, rivers cease flowing, and the world as we know it stops.

“There’s no pleasing these people,” Mother Nature (MB) continues, sounding irritated but resigned, as though she’s had this discussion before. “They whine when there’s no rain, and they whine when there is. I don’t just conjure this stuff out of nowhere, you know; there’s a simple but somewhat difficult formula surrounding its production. Hydrogen and oxygen don’t just turn up out of thin air, you know. I mean…you know. I got aggravated and started flicking the wand haphazardly, and now it’s madness.”

Mexico has always had a rainy season and a dry season. They are markedly regular, and comparatively benign compared to places like India and Hong Kong where monsoons ruin lives for half the year. Now, though, the rain is erratic, unrelenting, and just plain rude.

“The rainy season and the dry season seemed like a really great idea for Mexico at the beginning. Stock up, fill buckets, freeze it, whatever. Then I’d be able to spend time on heat waves and hurricanes and everything else I’m supposed to do. Snow on Popocatepetl, etcetera. Then, though, the population grew. I didn’t want to be doing rain all year, so I sent down more. I can’t stretch the rain out all year or people will become suicidal, like in England and Seattle. And there’s only 24 hours in the day; if they want to change that, they’ve got to talk to the big guy. I basically started throwing the rain whenever, wherever; now I don’t know how to stop.

“Plus,” she adds mischievously, it’s funny to watch them, no?”

In the past, people have dealt with the rain in a moderately graceful manner. Now, however, with the year 2012 growing ever closer, conspiracy theories are flying faster than the currents flooding the ironically named Avenida Viaducto.

“They think it’s a God thing. They think it’s the beginning of the end. Really, it’s nothing. The whole 2012 thing is totally a misunderstanding. It’s more of a regime change, a swap in style, like when we go from Resort Wear to Fall Collection. Honestly, I feel kind of jaded.”

But is this cavalier attitude really just a cover-up for years of pent-up rage, a typical long-time worker screwing with everyone till she gets the pension she asked for? Or can we really believe that the rain is nothing more than a flick of the wrist from a bored, confused flapper wanna-be?

“I’m Mother Nature (Mexico Branch). I’ve not a bitter bone in my body. And what’s the point of a pension? I’m immortal. Though I wouldn’t say no to a transfer to San Diego. Easiest job on earth.”

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