Did you ever stop to think that maybe the earth is trying to tell us something? Like, maybe building endless suburbs next to a highway in Central Texas wasn't such a hot idea? Apparently, the universe is communicating through a grass fire in Kyle, because subtlety is dead. Exit 210 and Center Street are currently closed because the Texas landscape decided to reassert its dominance. Consider this nature's performance art—a searing commentary on our unsustainable lifestyles.

The Big Picture

I-35, that shimmering ribbon of existential dread we call a highway, is once again the scene of… something. This time, it's a grass fire near Exit 210 in Kyle, because of course it is. Police are on the scene, probably sweating more than usual, and traffic is backing up like a bad colon.

By the Numbers

Zero Number of people surprised this is happening. 210 The exit you'll be cursing as you sit in traffic. 98 The approximate temperature (in the shade, assuming you can find any). $6.50 The price of a lukewarm bottle of water at the nearest gas station. 1 The number of existential crises you'll have while stuck in traffic.

What Changed

What changed? Well, it's August in Texas. It's always dry. It's always hot. The wind is always blowing. The only real change is that we haven't yet spontaneously combusted as a society. The forces at play are the sun, the wind, the dry grass, and the collective apathy of humankind.

Why It Matters

Because time is finite. Every minute spent idling on I-35 is a minute you'll never get back. A minute you could have spent doing something—anything—more meaningful. Like, I don't know, staring directly at the sun. At least that would be a more dramatic way to end your day. And if you're stuck in traffic, you're not spending money. And if you're not spending money, you're not stimulating the economy. And if you're not stimulating the economy, we're all doomed. So, really, this grass fire is an economic crisis in disguise.