Tidings of…Kind of winter. Sort of. Yes.

Tidings of…Kind of winter. Sort of. Yes.

Once again we stand at the precipice of a new winter and, willing or not, we’re going to plunge right into it. Ah, early November, a time of high tensions, the air crackling with anticipation. Indiana is a true wild card when it comes to weather, but you probably already knew that. Between tornadoes, droughts, blankets of heat and chill emerging out of season, we have a lot of fun trying to guess what will fall from the sky next week. Sometimes it’s water, and other times we have showers of Donald Trump, coal-based radiation and circular political debates that don’t actually accomplish anything.

Thankfully, showers of Donald Trump have been fairly rare as of late. Nobody wants to be hit with Donald Trump.

…I think I’m getting off-topic. Before we state that Drake is stupid: I know that November doesn’t count as winter in many circles. I also know that it does in other circles by virtue of being next to December. I personally believe that November is just stealing December’s thunder. December is a pretty nice guy, but he’s gullible and doesn’t pay attention. He probably doesn’t even know about this. When is someone going to tell him? Seriously, core values, people.

Anyway, what are we hoping for this winter?

I suppose that depends on who you are and what you have to gain or lose. I, personally, am hoping for the coldest winter Indiana has seen in a century, coupled with lots of snow and ice to inconvenience modern society. Why? BECAUSE I HATE SOCIETY. SMASH THE SYSTEM.

Er, sorry about that. I don’t actually hate society. It has its problems, but we all do, right? I just had to reference Borderlands 2 today. I have quotas of references to meet and this place is as good as any.

Take two, winter. When was the last time we had a snow day? Was it last year or the year before? I can’t seem to remember, which means we haven’t had one in far too long. Something’s just wrong when a man can’t even remember the last time he took an eighteen hour nap, or got to go to school two hours later.

Which, of course, bumped his hours of sleep up to a whopping five. Impressive dedication to grabbing your Z’s.

Anyway, that was more of my two cents than I actually wanted to rant about. This article isn’t actually about winter. If I misled you unintentionally, I must be doing something right.

Take a gander at this.


This here article’s fahls. Climert chanje isn’ reel.

Alright, gentlemen. We’re not actually stopping the bullet train headed towards that school bus of [insert cherished thing here], but we have slowed it down by about seven miles per hour. Casualties estimated are total, but it won’t be as messy, right? Right, guys?


In all seriousness, this is good news. Apparently China finally got the memo that 800 (not joking, either) on a 1-400 scale of dangerous pollution is bad. That’s right, pollution is bad. My faith in humanity has increased by about 2%.

Why did I tie in climate change with winter? Two reasons. The first is because I can, and the second is because the Coca-Cola polar bear deserves Christmas too. Think about the Coca-Cola polar bear before you throw that recyclable can in the trash. It’s kind of hard to do winter when you’re underwater. I may or may not be speaking from an experience involving basket-weaving, so I may or may not know where this bear is coming from. Think about the Coca-Cola polar bear before you throw that recyclable can in the trash.

When he campaigns for reduced emissions, he usually gets laughed off the stage because he isn’t real.

Before you judge him, think about this: I’m not real either. That could be me up there, except I wouldn’t be up there because I can’t be up there because I was never here and I never wrote this.

I do not exist. Fight for Climate Change. Fight for a caffeinated-beverage-toting bear. Clean energy.

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