Relative Dangers

I'm currently reading Fire Mountains of the West.  It has caused me to reconsider certain of my assumptions, namely that Seattle's far enough away from all the fire mountains to be relatively safe from their upsets.  This assumption turns out to be wrong.

Facts must be faced: I've decided to live in one of the most tectonically interesting parts of the United States.  If the volcanoes don't get me, the megathrust and regular ol' subduction zone earthquakes might.  There's also a reasonable chance of a tsunami.  Oh, and don't forget the landslides.  Additionally, if a new ice age were to suddenly strike, I'd be under 4,000 feet of ice.  Conversely, should global warming get much worse, I could end up unintentionally living on an island.  That's not even to mention the traffic woes.

So yes, there are times, like now, when I think that perhaps I should return to the quieter climes of Arizona, where all I have to worry about is running out of water and perhaps getting barbecued during the next fire season.  The place is, for the most part, tectonically dead boring.  But then I consider the assorted fucktards in charge, and the fucktards that vote them in, and the fucktarded shit they do on a daily basis.

Thank you, but I'll take my chances with the fire mountains et al.  They're statistically less likely to kill me.  Should I return to my dear old home state, I'd probably die of apoplexy within the first six months.