With the apostles of the latter-day pop science known as Lawdy, Lawdy, I Do Believe the End Is Near visiting the Culver City Democratic Club tonight, it is fitting that we should drop one of their favorite evangelists, Bitter Billy McKibben, into the x-ray machine and test his honesty.
His unintentionally humorous essay yesterday morning in the Los Angeles Titanic, headlined “The flood this time,” was a knee-slapper, like a joke that everyone was in on except Mr. McKibben.
He is identified as a “scholar.”
I’ll bet he is.
The flooding in Memphis was bound to bring the under-employed Apostles of the Apocalypse out of the crusty woodwork.
Have you noticed? Any time there is a siege of negative weather lasting more than an hour, here come the leisure-suited ladies and gents warning that life is darned near over. Prepare to leap into the darkness. Some even believe it, too.
Wonder no more how a raw greenie like Swish Obama can be elected. The unblinking believers in climate change and Hope and Change always seem ready to embrace the next Medicine Man rolling through town, the louder he talks, the louder he dresses, no matter how silly, how illogical his message. Few of these hard left disciples are religious. Desperately, they need something kind of exotic to wrap their faith around.
To show that P.T.U.T.T. Barnum was correct two centuries ago when he spoke of the consistency with which suckers are birthed, Bitter Billy McKibben is one of the most successful preachers of the purely hard left movement known as Duck Before Climate Change or Global Warming Claims All of Us.
It rains — it is an irrefutable sign of global warming.
It snows — it is an irrefutable sign of climate change.
(Alternate the causes. That way the rubes never will catch on.)
Three straight days of hot weather — it is an irrefutable sign of global warming.
No rain for 5 years? No problem. Climate change is the villain.
How do you keep the hicks coming back to your covered wagon and swallowing the funny tasting climate change juice?
You warn them that only disaster lies ahead, woe is you, woe is me, woe is we — just like the oldtime religion that they scorn but so loyally emulate. In times of disaster, we need each other. Therefore, the Preachers of Pity, Ain’t It know you will keep returning to their trough to be fed fattening propaganda.
You wonder how Bitter Billy McKibben can retain a straight face.
Climate change, he preaches, leads in all directions. It is the cause of all weather.
And here is the clinching part about this manmade tragedy constantly-in-the-making: There is not a darned thing we can do about it. By golly, Climate Change, Son of Global Warming, ignites everything. Doomed are we, Murgatroyd. It probably caused Arnold and Maria to split.
Sound the trumpets of doom, fellow dudes.
To quote from the politically calculated wisdom of Mr. McKibben’s Titanic essay:
“In Pakistan, Australia and now the center of the North American continent, we’re getting a powerful taste of what global warming feels like in its early stages.”
Lawdy, Lawdy, I Do Believe, and Punish Me If I Ever Waver
The erudite knockoff Mr. McKibben tells us life is hopeless, and we may as well leap onto his aging shoulders and toddle over the cliff. All together, 1,2, 3:
“There are no grounds for optimism in this fight against the weather,” he writes. How convenient. I am your new papa.
Let’s despair together before we eat.
Near the end, he breathes faster and louder as he closes in on his main political point, the reason for the essay. Social justice. Yeah, team.
“There’s no one we can shoot to make global warming disappear. But we could, if we wanted, devote the scale of resources we’ve spent in the last decade invading Iraq and Afghanistan to he task of retooling our energy infrastructure.
“That’s the kind of commitment it would take, an effort we usually seem to muster only in the face of military threat.
“But the danger that comes from climate change is every bit as real, and in the long run, far greater than anything Al Qaeda could throw at us.”
I just knew it. Swish chased the wrong guy last week when we shot bin Franklin Laden. He should have shot the weatherman. Darn.
