Scott Maxwell: Florida is the land of perpetual disasters.

Florida is still reeling from Irma — and now all eyes are on Jose.

Word from the weather folk is that our fate depends on whether Jose completes his “anti-cyclonic loop.” His, um, what? As I scurry to Google to understand what that means and how many more sandbags it will require, it dawns on me that Floridians are forced to familiarize themselves with all sorts of nutty-scary phrases. Anti-cyclonic loop. Radioactive sinkhole. Mosquito-borne illness.

We’re not living in paradise. We’re living in a modern incarnation of the book of Exodus.

We have hurricanes and tornadoes. Fires and floods. Sinkholes, sharks, Zika and even deadly amoeba. We face more plagues than the Egyptians ever did.

You don’t need a retirement portfolio to move to Florida. You need a flak jacket and a 30-day supply of MRE’s.

There is no doubt that Floridians are resilient. But we’re also kind of nuts.

After all, it’s not like any of these disasters are new. Ponce de Leon discovered Florida in 1513. By 1523, a mammoth hurricane came along and sank two ships. Welcome to the Florida, Ponce. Michael Grunwald, Florida’s contemporary historian and author of Sunshine State must-read “The Swamp,” says these disasters help make a case he has made for years — that none of us was ever supposed to live here.

“Florida is an unsustainable paradise,” he said. “It’s an artificial metropolis we built here on top of a swamp.”

Yeah, but it also has warm winters and Florida-resident prices at Gatorland.

“Listen, I get it. I live here too,” Grunwald said. “It’s unsustainable. But it is also paradise.”

In other words: Forget Egypt. We’re more like Gomorrah.

We have wonderfully high times — right up until a tornado topples Tomorrowland, a sinkhole swallows our houses and walls of scrub-brush-fueled fire engulfs everything else.

Grunwald’s point is that our state was actually designed for disaster.

We dangle like a target for storms that feed off the warm waters that surround us. We have sands that shift, ground that gives and terrain that floods.

To compensate for that, we have tried to make Florida’s landscape bend to man’s will — infusing concrete into the soil and artificially redirecting massive bodies of water … only to have Mother Nature occasionally direct them back.

We say: “Try toppling that, Mother Nature.”

Mother Nature responds: “Hold my beer.”

“Florida was the last frontier for a reason,” Grunwald said

For one thing, our landscape is mind-numbingly flat. “Most of us live in floodplains,” he noted, adding that many Floridians have heard that word so many times, they forgot what it actually means