Dateline: Friday, June 25
I’ve complained about heat before. It’s what I do. The only reason people think of me as even-tempered is that it’s not usually that hot. That’s been changing fast. Scientists are reluctant to pin any one weather event on global warming because they’re trained to be careful in their conclusions, but we all know the truth. We’re looking at an existential bollixing. And we are both the bollixers and the bollixees.
Today I am filling bird baths and looking out at my bird friends Studley and DooDah and Dickens and Peanut Dave the scrub jay with anticipatory dread on their behalf, and envy that they are, for the moment, oblivious. There’s a forecast out for this weekend for a heat wave so unprecedented that the actual precedents are cowering under the porch and peeing themselves. This never was funny, and it’s not now.

This Monday, in gentle Portland, Oregon, a modest and temperate jewel of a city on a major river within sight of actual glaciers, it is currently predicted to reach 118 degrees. And it will dip all the way down to 82 at night. Up till now you could count our nighttime temperatures above 70–for all time–on one hand. So unless the nearest glacier slides right off the mountain and into our bedroom, we’re screwed.

As regular readers know, I do not have, or believe in, air conditioning, and intend to survive using my prehistoric caveman skills, refined in the sodden swamps of northern Virginia. I do not intend to fire up a box that sucks up more coal power. That’s how we got here.
But I’m beside myself, which is really bad, because both of me are too warm.
It’s only in the nineties today, but I peek out of my closed curtains and think about asteroids. Isn’t it a blessing that no one saw that monster of extinction coming, 66 million years ago? Just chomp chomp chomp like any other day, and then suddenly a blinding light and powdered dinosaurs everywhere.
But here and now, we know it’s coming, we know we caused it, we know what to do about it, and we spend our days talking about trannies in the bathroom and the freedom to infect each other. We’ve known for over a hundred years. We were warned urgently forty years ago. Al Gore pleaded with us twenty years ago and the Libertarian/Republican conspiracy of doom responded by instructing Americans to mock him. They were not about to let anyone interfere with the lucrative rape of the planet.
Every one of them should have to answer, really answer, one simple question: What’s your plan, Skippy? They do not have a plan. For anything. Anything except keeping power and money. They are criminals in the first degree and should be treated as such. Mitch McConnell and every one of the sons-of-mitches, the whole soulless lot of them, should be removed from society before they do any more harm, and punished appropriately. I’d suggest they be roasted at the stake, if there was some way to make that take a few years.