The Blob Takes Manhattan

Now that the Arctic isn’t cold anymore, The Blob is awake and tearing through malls like a post-breakup trust fund baby. After it drinks the oceans dry, The Blob returns to North America. The 24-hour news cycle was made for this. On their websites, you can watch the feed from the helicopters shining a spotlight on its backside. In the corner of your favorite sitcom, there’s The Blob inhaling a Chinese restaurant in Vermont. On news panels, so-called experts speak in circles. Kids blame billionaires for destroying the environment and failing their fellow humans. Billionaires blame scientists who knew this was coming and didn’t do anything to stop it. Scientists blame the governments who ignored their warnings and denied funding. Governments blame their citizens for their consumption cravings, for not recycling, for not riding the bus that doesn’t come to their area, for not spending money they don’t have on solar panels, for wanting to eat something other than canned beans. But no one ever asks The Blob who it blames for its solitary existence on Earth. They see a monster and don’t ask what’s behind that flubby exterior. And since all the humans are so busy watching The Blob and discussing The Blob, they don’t actually attempt to stop it. So, The Blob rolls alone, searching for another of its kind, one it can merge with and become whole. It consumes what it can to maintain its optimism, but rolling through skyscrapers in the city moonlight, it feels emptier than ever.