Eugene Robinson The Washington Post

July 5, 2012

Eugene Robinson
The Washington Post
1150 15th Street, NW
Washington, DC 20071

RE: No, it isn’t hot enough for me – Some comments on your mind numbing article in today’s Miami Herald.

Mr. Robinson,

One of the requirements before you become a full throated, fire breathing, card carrying member of the modern American Liberal Church of Perpetually Rising Expectations is that you genuflect to the great Gaia and promise that no polar bears will die on your watch. As part of the rubric of Holy Orders you are required to put your head so far up your ass that if you use Rogaine hair will grow on your tongue. You are well on the road to being an Archbishop.

[Did you know that the snows of Kilimanjaro have been receding since 1888? That was the first year that it was measured so Quien Sabe about the good old days when Obama’s great great grandfather was actively culling his herd. Incidentally, the Blizzard of 1888 is still remembered in America. Do you think there might be a connection? The preceding was a non sequitur. We’ll get to that soon.]

You say that it is always hot in DC in August but it’s never been this hot.

Assuming that it is so could you tell me what that means or what it implies. Declarative sentences only, please.

I recall a Washington Post story from the summer of 1996.

#1 – Donna Shalala, then HHS Secretary and now head of the pep squad for the University of Miami Hurricanes, gave President Handsome Billy from Hot Springs some bad news. There was no way to sugar coat it. We were all going to die from AIDS in 10 years.

This is 2012 – 16 years later – and I still haven’t bought any green bananas.

#2 – President Clinton made some brief remarks in the Rose Garden that day. “Hot enough for you?” was how he opened it. He then proceeded to turn 25 centuries of Western Civilization on its head. He said it was hot because of Global Warming. Further, there could be no doubt, what with the science being settled, that Global Warming was caused by that very hot day in August. Heat begets heat and that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The World of Traditional Logic shuddered as it was being torn asunder.

As quickly as he could force them into the receiving end of the obfuscatory persiflage grinder, the Halusian gap of irrationality was filled with the admonitions against circular reasoning, the ban of tautologies, and hoc post ergo propter hoc. Non sequiturs became reasoned discourse. See. I told you we would get back to them.

Logic, the capstone of the Trivium, the mother lode of the DNA that has become the Western Canon, went into the ash heap. Big Bill only took a few questions because he didn’t want to be late for his AM Oval Office hummer.

[Speaking of “settled science”, and how is that horse’s ass for the ages, Vice President Alpha Gump, doing these days, exactly what is this flap over the God particle? Higgs boson? Up until last Thursday I thought it was the Jolly Tar wearing the cool hat with the great whistle. Do you suppose it is, to quote Vice President Curly Biden, “a big fucking deal”?]

I am never far from my copy of “The Population Bomb” by Paul Ehrlich, Ph.D. I just reached out and touched it. He posited a simple enough thesis. The year is 1970. The race is on as to whether we will starve to death or freeze to death. The finish line is set in reinforced rebarred concrete at 2000 AD

I admit that in addition to being follicley challenged I am calorically challenged. Not freezing, not starving, not dead from AIDS. You can see why 1996 was a year filled with great angst for me. I thought I had a good shot at beating the 2000 Dead Pool. Then she comes along a gives a new drop dead deadline.

We may yet save the polar bears. We won’t make any friends in the world of baby seals but, what the Hell, we all can’t eat tofu.

I have been asking the Miami Herald since 1997 to turn off the A/Cs in their World HQ by Biscayne Bay. Alas, my suggestion has not gained traction.

See if you can follow the Logic here. I’ll type slowly.

50% of the electricity generated in this country comes from burning coal. 50% of the electricity is used to generate power to run A/Cs. Can you see where I’m going here?

After the Washington Post goes room temperature the entire Federal apparatus goes off the grid. Imagine the Capitol without A/C for the months of June, July, August, September, and October up until Columbus Day. It’s possible that nothing will get done what with members keeling over from heat stroke. The country will be better off for it. The unintended serendipity is that 10 foot tall polar bears will become 12 foot polar bears at the expense of those cute baby seals. They were going to die anyway so rich 1% mostly White chicks can wear them. Here we can help an endangered species.

Perhaps you remember your first day of biology class. It’s fuzzy to me also. There was something about green plants, photosynthesis, and a long 4 letter word. That word is carbon dioxide.

The people who gave us Obamacare and skim milk, broccoli, and tofu malteds have said – Caesar Dixit comes to mind – that carbon dioxide is poisonous.

I want you to kill your ferns and bromeliads. I want you to burn your lawn and drown your rose bushes. It might be tough getting all those redwoods down by the autumnal equinox but we’re Americans and this is our 3rd Summer of Recovery. Yes, we can. Si, se puede.

You have a very special job. You are to tie yourself to the top of the Capitol dome like Ulysses. There, you are to hold your breath and count to 2012. In fact, I want you to duct tape your mouth, nose, and ears. I don’t want any of that damned CO2 getting out.

Your CV lists you as a Pulitzer Prize winner. I’m not sure what it is in but for damn sure it is not in any recognized sciences. Alchemy, perhaps astrology. You are picking up the mantle so proudly borne by Janet Cook. Good for you. I haven’t heard from her in a while. What is she up to these days?

Your final paragraph contains one teeny error.

Let’s assume that son of Solyndra works. Let’s assume that it produces electricity like coal on steroids. Let’s assume that it has so much juice that Ben Franklin comes back and blesses it.

How does the power get off the roof and into your A/C, there being no way of transmitting it? Maybe we can harness the tides in the Potomac to turn the windmills that will get the solar powered magic wands to run the A/C. Maybe we can have the Wizard of Oz keep shouting Shazaam!

It sure as Hell beats anything you’re saying.

Kevin Smith