Category: Humour

Get a grip!

David Mitchell (on his soapbox) tells it like it is, with an appropriate degree of emphasis. By way of being a place-holder to mark my return to NZ and climate blogging. Currently overwhelmed by the amount of catching up of all sorts that I have to do, but something like normal service will resume shortly. Meanwhile, my heartfelt thanks to Bryan for doing so much work in my absence, to Simon for his thoughtful contributions, and to Glenn and John for keeping the Climate Show ticking over so well. Thanks all!

[Hat tip: Dan at Irregular Climate.]

Suck this, old king coal

Peabody Energy, the world’s largest private sector coal company, best known for mountain-top removal coal mining in the USA, has finally woken up to its social and environmental responsibilities, and is launching a new programme — Coal Cares™ — to:

…reach out to American youngsters with asthma and to help them keep their heads high in the face of those who would treat them with less than full dignity. For kids who have no choice but to use an inhaler, Coal Cares™ lets them inhale with pride.

It’s well worth digging around in the CoalCares™ web site, for the considerable environmental and energy wisdom on display:

So-called “solar energy,” on the other hand, refers to the direct use of the violent fusion reactions occurring deep within our nearest star. As you might expect, this kind of “solar energy” naturally comes with a host of dangers that coal’s million-year buffering is designed to avoid. Some scientists refer to so-called “solar energy” as “mainlining the sun”—and it doesn’t take an Einstein to see an overdose looming.

Or, on why it doesn’t make sense to install “scrubbers” to clean emissions from coal-burning power plants:

Locating the filtering mechanism at the point of consumption (i.e., your child’s mouth) is dramatically more cost-effective than locating it at the point of emission (smokestacks), and in turn means less need for intrusive and costly regulation.

Yes, it’s nice to see that the tide is finally turning…

[Or perhaps not…]

Climate rap – scientists fight back

This is a preview of a section of tonight’s Hungry Beast show (Wikipedia explains) on ABC in Australia — I’m A Climate Scientist — a rap attack on climate denial. Opening lines:

Droppin facts all over this wax/
While bitches be crying about a carbon tax/
Climate change is caused by people/
Earth Unlike Alien Has no sequel/
We gotta move fast or we’ll be forsaken/
(Politician): Cause we were too busy suckin’ d*** in Copenhagen

Slightly not safe for work, or if you are sensitive to rude language. Full lyric at Youtube. But hilarious, and well worth watching. I’d pay good money to see a version with Gavin Schmidt, Mike Mann, Kevin Trenberth and Phil Jones. Or do I mean “Bad”? Hat tip: John Cook via @skepticscience.

Thundersnow is go! (for weather geeks)

It’s been snowing in America. It snowed quite a lot in Chicago. They even had thundersnow, which is rare enough to have excited Weather Channel presenter Jim Cantore quite a lot. I’ve never experienced thundersnow. I’m almost jealous. Almost. The ripe peaches at Limestone Hills are some compensation… 😉

More on American snow at Jeff Masters’ blog. Hat tip to Barry Brook, who tweeted this Daily Mail assemblage of blizzard pictures.

[Update Feb 5: Jeff Masters provides this memorable description today: The most extraordinary hourly observation I’ve ever seen in a U.S. winter storm came at 9:51pm on February 1 at Chicago’s Midway Field: A heavy thunderstorm with lightning, heavy snow, small hail or ice pellets, freezing fog, blowing snow, visibility 300 feet, a wind gust of 56 mph, and a temperature of 21°F. Welcome to the Midwest! My kind of town…]

Sic transit gloria Moncktoni

The Laird had been sat on his personal promontory for hours, staring out over the loch, an occasional tear rolling gently down his cheek. Scrotum had been quick to take him a generous snifter of the Queensland pineapple rum he’d enjoyed so much in the outback a year ago, but even the heady waft of tropical alcohol and memories of days in the Austral sun could not dispel Monckton’s black dog. The wrinkled retainer had seen the dog take him before, but this was no mere short-haired dachshund, it was the full weimaraner. Scrotum repaired to the library and opened Monckton’s laptop. A strange Roman script filled the screen…

Monckton Myths 468

Scrotum clicked the words and was transported to the other side of the world — as so many of his ancestors had been. There, laid out in an easy to access and understand way was a comprehensive debunking of all of Monckton’s favourite arguments. Scrotum smiled, and reached for his iPod. Time for a little Martha & The Vandellas…