The Boys of Georges

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When the last storm-lashed citizen has been ushered inside, and the last hatch has been battened down, they remain: the Scud Studs of the weather channels. Like CNN's Arthur Kent, who braved missiles on Saudi rooftops in his dashing bomber jacket during the Gulf War, these guys in their flapping slickers are also jockeying for their 15 minutes of fame. But at least Kent was reporting a war. Aren't these guys just getting wet?

CNN, long the cable leader in weather pornography, is currently dousing a pair of correspondents, Jeff Flock in Gulfport, Miss., and John Zarella in Mobile, Ala., in a constant stream of live stand-ups before rain-spattered (and often almost completely fogged-over) camera lenses. Flock, so far, has done the dirtiest work. Knee-deep in Jurassic ferns or hunched in the foreground of a deluge-stricken street, Flock's body whips in the wind like a trailer-park palm. You can't hear what he's saying, but who cares? The point is, it's wet and windy, and CNN takes you there.