#crabtracks

[sisterbestill]

The hermit crab leaves his shell in the evening. Some choose big shells with lots of square millimeters while other are stuffed into efficiencies hoping not be dolphin or bird spéciale du jour. #crabtracks #seabrookisland #hermitcrab #hermitlife #snacks (at Seabrook Island, South Carolina) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDKaNL5jhbI/?igshid=o00ivycq4s82

[dreamketchers]

#crabtracks (at Henderson Beach State Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5Ouw3jpelF/?igshid=16lwxjll0atzt

[pictostory]

John Brosio, Fatigue 2

Can we all agree that literally no one predicted how humanity would react to something like this?

Like. We all saw the disaster films, the dramas, all the movies that tried to make something dramatic out of this. And the reality was... just... boring.

Capitalism trumps all, I know. But I didn't think capitalism trumped giant crab invasions.

There's two or three crabs stomping around the United States right now, depending on the status of the one that keeps scuttling back and forth over the Mexican border (I'll spare you the 'build a wall' jokes that everyone on Facebook has made a million times already.) And we're tracking them, obviously. Since they're unkillable and any attempt at interaction just agitates them further, we're just kinda, watching 'em. And that's goddamn insane.

So I live in the northern Indiana area, and we all knew Shelby was near. We've all got the Crabtrack app. Not everyone paid for the premium version for the push updates, so I guess maybe a few people missed it. But by and large, we all knew she was close. Nevertheless, workers gotta work. Not just essential workers! Since the chance of attack was under the <25% threshold, pretty much everyone had to come in under threat of getting written up. "What's the difference, you get stomped on here, or you get stomped on at home," my boss said.

I called in sick. He knows why, I don't give a shit, I've got enough built up. Anyway, my apartment overlooks a few office buildings nearby with this shared parking lot, so I got a real good look at the interactions between Shelby and capitalism. I watched this dude with a briefcase stroll out toward his car fearlessly, even as Shelby was tossing vehicles around just on the other side of the lot. Like, "Yeah, it's a catastrophe or whatever, but so's missing my wife's beef surprise." Something like that, probably. He had that Boomer look about him.

Unfortunately, he got to what was presumably his parking spot, looked around confused, and then noticed—I'm extrapolating and making assumptions here, but trust me, I'm very good at reading faces from hundreds of meters away—that one of the vehicles Shelby was throwing around was his vehicle.

And he... continued standing there. Only then did he acknowledge the situation and show any emotion, even if it was a resigned succumbing to misery. Because, you see, the real tragedy of the crab invasion was never the potential loss of life, but loss of the motor vehicle you use to transport yourself from the sleeping area to the working area. Now he would have to spend more time in the working area to obtain another motor vehicle. It was one hundred percent clear that that was the only thing on his mind.

If that wasn't enough, I then watched him march away—not even away, but perpendicular to the crab chaos—and catch a bus, because yes, the buses were still running.

Everyone's just trying to get by, I guess. Not everyone can afford to miss a day to crab chaos.

Seth S. June 4th, 2022