Now that it’s been two months into the sequester, Americans are starting to feel the negative impact of the automatic budget cuts. Between forced furloughs, cuts to aid programs, cuts to scientific research, cancelled air shows (our precious air shows!), and declining consumer spending (“Do I really need to go to that air show?”), it’s clear that we have begun to pay the price of our lawmakers’ inability to deal with these issues promptly instead of just putting it all off. It’s an important issue, one I’ll get to in a bit.
But first: do you study bugs for a living? Are you, as they say, an entomologist? Of course not, no one is, because you watched A Bug’s Life and that’s all you needed to know about that. If there were entomologists around, then we would all be better informed about the impending cicada swarm that will, in a matter of months or weeks, darken America’s skies like government helicopters in a Tea Partier’s nightmare.
This imminent armbuggeddon is called “Brood II,” appropriately named like a horror sequel since it involves billions of cicadas crawling out of the ground simultaneously to molt, mate, and presumably feast on the fear of young children. Holy hell. It’s officially awful, in no small part because these cicadas will already be 17 years old when they roll out of the ground, which will probably happen during prom season, meaning it’ll just be an uncountable muck of teenagers terrorizing neighborhoods and groping each other in bushes. Not to mention the cicadas doing the exact same thing.
Emergency phones lines will be jammed with people calling and yelling “HELP HALP there’s a cicada orgy destroying my yard! SEND COPS.” But the police won’t dare come, because these are no ordinary cicadas. They belong to the genus “Magicicada,” which is clearly Latin for “MAGIC CICADAS WTF.” Yeah, not only are they teenage insects, sexting (insexting?) each other on tiny little phones, but they know spells too. “Oh,” you might say, “I know how to deal with teen magicians. I’ve seen The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, after all.” But you’d be wrong, just like your decision to watch that movie, and just like the lone actual entomologist out there who says these things are mostly harmless. How can he possibly know that when all of his research has been taken away by the sequester?
I mean, yes, these cicada emergences happen basically every year with broods of various sizes. But that actually brings me back to the sequester, because each year, the cicadas know that there is a powerful American government armed with military planes that, when not being used for airs shows (woo, air shows!), can be sent to shoot down any cicada uprising. But with all the cutbacks we’re having, this may very well be the year that the cicadas, sensing our weakness, pounce with their little wands and enslave us all.
That’s why I encourage you all to write letters to your representatives, imploring them to rethink these budget cuts, much like how I have in my own letter:
Dear Rep. Sanchez,
(I addressed it to “Sanchez” because I don’t know actually know who my representative is and I figured that “Sanchez” was a pretty good guess, since it’s like the “Smith” of the Southwest.)
Dear Rep. Sanchez,
I’m writing to you about the upcoming cicada coup that you and your fellow congressfolk have woefully and willfully failed to address. With Brood II just around the corner, billions of cicadas will have free reign over American military space now emptied of its defenses due to your pernicious budget cutbacks. Despite what scientists have informed us, we cannot rule out the possibility that these cicadas have both magical powers and minuscule phones that they use to send sexy insect texts with which, when done while driving their minuscule little cars, will only increase their potential for destruction and chaos.
Please help us. I fear for my children, in that if I am killed by cicadas, the children I have yet to have will not be able to exist. Last week, you and your colleagues ended the sequester’s effects on air traffic controllers, but only because you needed those controllers to fly back home for recess. Allow me to appeal to your self-interest once more and say that if you want to have jobs to return to, you must work towards defeating the coming Armbuggeddon.
Thank you. Sincerely,
Occasional voter. Not a crazy person.
PS: Please don’t steal my “Armbuggeddon” idea.
With enough of our pleas, we may yet be able to spur Congress towards dealing with this plausibly credible threat. And we better hope they do, because our only other option is to ask the Syrian Fumigation Army to stop using chemical weapons on their own citizens and instead deploy it against an actual enemy. And that’s probably not a very good idea, since when magic and chemicals mix, you get alchemy, and frankly I don’t think the government has the money to hire the alchemists we’d need if things go wrong.
Of course, there’s a third option: we befriend the cicadas, and let them take over the government anyway. Because at this point, even though I’m beginning to suspect that they are just heatstroke-related hallucinations, magical insect buddies increasingly seem like the most realistic way to fix Washington D.C.