Jan 8, 2010

Warmering

Scrabbling around the net for a suitable peg on which to hang another gill of wiseass irony on global warming as seen by a contemporary Upper Plains citizen, I ran across this pleasantly lucid Forbes piece.

There's no one snark-star in column, and maybe that's good. We keep teasing the warmist dimwits, forgetting that a sense of humor is the second thing they lose, right after good sense.

Instead you get things like:

"According to satellite data, global warming stopped about 10 years ago and there's no way to know whether it's happening now," says Roy Spencer, former NASA senior scientist for climate studies."

His point is that since there is no reliable data on the very existence of AGW, there is no way of knowing if the radical Gorist assaults on economy and liberty are working or not. (Think about a warmist as a shyster mechanic turned loose at $80 bucks an hour on an intermittent electrical problem in your government-built Chevy. )

Michael Fumenta goes on largely in that vein, offering data and their interpretation by real scientists to remind us that Gore apostles, lead by President Obama, are hard at work on a new citizen-control program called "geoengineering."

The term, assuming it has an exegetic meaning at all, means anything you want to buy, build, or eat requires written approval from that portion of the United Nations membership which boasts an extremely high AIDS/soap ratio.

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And now, the daily post lamely out of the way, I return to the out of doors where I shall continue reinforcing what I can to reduce the snow-load danger. I shall start the vehicles just to make sure they're ready if an emergency requires them. I shall spread some old bread for the furry and the feathered, Most important, I shall shovel a path out to the road, secure in the knowledge that FEMA and the President are en route to present me with my trailer, my pallet of Vichy water, and a $2,000 debit card.





2 comments:

JohnW said...

I just checked the webcam at the Dry Dock Lounge. You're going out in *that* of your own volition? Woof. My admiration knows no bounds. (Trans: "Boy's dumber'n a sack of hammers...")

Jim said...

Yeah, but it's a dry cold.