I got to say: global warming has provided some pretty sweet-ass results so far this season.
It’s not even April, and already cool chicks are wearing “Juicy” shorts and showing off their tramp stamps. Smart dudes are braaaaw-ing out on the porch. We’re able to open our windows and let the wonderful spring night air soothe us to sleep. And now smoking outdoors at the bar doesn’t look as pathetic.
Meanwhile, alarmists, socialists, and other patchouli-ists are beating their African drums about how the awesome temperatures this early in the year are the latest crushing indication of an easily observable—and frighteningly severe—warming pattern in the Earth’s atmosphere. When I run into any of these gullible regulatophiles, I’m reminded of some wise words a young relative of mine from the South recently shared regarding so-called scientists, and their notions of global warming, a.k.a. climate change:
What exactly IS the “scientific community” anyway? They are people running con jobs to snatch government grants—OUR TAX DOLLARS—to go make up something that sounds important and stay employed. These are the same people that come out one year and tell us eggs are good for us, and then the next year say they are bad. Which is it? Meh!
Well articulated, my Dixie kin. I also find all science to be selfish, profit driven, and politically hard-spun. (Not to mention that there is no wiser card to play in the debate about climate science than the “we-don’t-even-know-the-full-nutritional-value-of-an-egg” card. Airtight, sir.)
Science funded by government is the ultimate fuel for the flip-flopper’s worldview. You think you know something, and then you make a “discovery” and change your conclusion. It’s the kind of shaky belief system that weakens a culture and cripples an economy. Imagine all the small business folk who’ve been hurt by such knee jerk science throughout the years. The bloodletters. The potion peddlers. The coffin makers. You know, common folks who just want to earn enough to buy their wives a couple of Cadillacs and an additional house, or two. In other words, folks who are actually providing a product or service in return for market value—something “scientists” and their congregations could benefit to learn from.
Instead of trying to fudge facts about the effects of exponential increases of carbon in the Earth’s atmosphere, perhaps these government grant moochers can roll with the punches, move to the private sector and … I don’t know, make a sunscreen lotion that better defines my muscle tone and brings out my eyes. Perhaps design a hip parasol that also distills vodka, which tastes like gummy bears, or pot. Just do something to make a worthwhile buck, instead of trying to talk to leaders about pollution, habitat depletion, and other buzz kills.
Maybe then I won’t have to be bothered by the folks on campus, and in the coffee shops and libraries, who want to evangelize their concerns about the condition of the planet for the generations to come. Scientists, use your science-pocus to make that pot vodka and create a sharp marketing campaign directed towards the very fuddy duds who already swallow your propacandy. They can drink it up, calm down, and finally join those other people on campus—the smart, cool dudes and chicks who really know how to deal with the warmer and warmer weather: by working on their tans.