The Week of Loathing (Day the Third): Incessant Chatter about Global Warming

The time is ripe, dear reader, for some primo excoriation. After all, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are currently celebrating our Fourth Annual Week of Loathing. We can’t think of a better time for contumely. And, boy oh boy, have we got a dandy subject for demolition today.

As we write this humble “post,” dear reader, the weather is a bit colder than average. This short cold streak has—inevitably—caused many to wonder: “Gosh, what about so-called Global Warming? It’s super-freezing outside.” Or words to that effect.

In a few weeks time, we’d wager, it will be a bit warmer than usual. And then many a fellow and lady will opine: “My gosh, Al Gore wasn’t sufficiently alarmist. Clearly, the end is nigh.” Or, once again, words to that effect.

Can we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” inform you how much this irritates us? Any weather swing prompts The Drudge Report to advertise the change as either a portent of doom or a clear sign that Global Warming is a laughable hoax.

For crying out loud, people: Stop blathering on about this, will you? It’s as if we’re stupid enough to believe that we’re heading for an apocalypse because it was a bit warm on May 3rd. Ah, yes: It’s only 45 degrees in Phoenix—that must mean that those distraught about Global Warming are akin to Flat Earthers.

Haven’t any of you people ever heard of anecdotal evidence? Just because Al Gore offers a fire and brimstone speech on a chilly day in March, it doesn’t mean that, ipso facto, he’s full of it. He may in fact be full of it, but that ain’t the reason.

Frankly, dear reader, we simply can’t take all this fussing about the weather. Remember when a string of warm days were merely designated a “heat wave”? What a glorious time! Nowadays, a “heat wave” means the Secular Second Coming.

Remember, folks: Some days on earth are cold (especially in Buffalo, NY). Others are warm. If it hits 85 degrees in February, you don’t necessarily have to rush and buy a life insurance policy.

Just grab a pair of shorts—or, if it’s cold, a wooly cap—and head outside. And shut up.