January passed without a drop of measurable rain in Chico. Residents and students are both puzzled as to the cause of this phenomenon.
It’s one of the lesser-known jobs of the opinion editor to probe the weather situation and right meteorological wrongs. This solemn and sacred task ranks up there with deciding who wins the Oscars and when NASA fakes the next moon landing.
The only thing standing in my way is the plague that’s haunted the campus this semester. Since I have yet to fall ill, I will not chance going out in public, and I’ll solve this mystery without wandering into the disease pit. I won’t even break a sweat, even though it’s been so sunny and warm in the afternoons.
Come to think of it, this might be global warming at work. The lack of rain could be the result of atmospheric destabilization caused by trapped ozone gases that cause heat to be locked in and melt the polar ice caps, thusly throwing the patterns of nature into a disastrous tailspin.
At least, that’s what those hippie freaks from the planet “Tree Hugger” want you to think. Instead, we need to focus on the real cause of this problem. It’s not the heat, but its source – the great bright Sol.
See, the problem with the idea of global warming is that it depends on something we can’t see, an almighty ozone layer. And supposedly, this imaginary layer is eroding and allowing more of the Sol’s light to pass through.
That shameful propaganda merely dances around the problem and completely misses the heart. What we need is to look back before we look forward.
Thousands of years ago, a man either tilled the land for his crops or relied on the fat of beasts that fed on the vegetation. Either way you slice it, this was a good thing for Sol.
The bright oppressor had a consistent hand in everyday life. If he were pleased, he would make regular appearances and provide a balance of warmth to the land and the occasional refreshing shower to green the earth. If he was displeased, Sol would flip a coin and either butt in on everyday life with a scorching gaze, or disappear and let the floods remind everyone who the boss really was.
Now that man has produced more industry and products that take away some of Sol’s power, he’s angrier than are a group of bees at Winnie the Pooh. Last winter, his coin landed heads-up, and torrents of rain befuddled the region.
This winter, it’s tails, and the weather couldn’t be any drier. It was a subtle assault at first with frigid temperatures destroying citrus crops, but now Sol is out in full force, laughing at the misery of those he sees as purely below him.
To rid us of this menace, humanity needs to develop a system based purely on industry and strip away environmental regulations. We need a society that is independent of Sol. And one day, when he turns his back and leaves us in darkness, we sneak a nuke onto a rocket and BLAMMO! No more Sol.
Maybe these seemingly empty threats against our oppressive overlord will make him reconsider his actions. Or maybe I’m just going crazy from the air in the basement of Plumas Hall.
Either way, I need to get some new shoes. The heels are really worn and probably shouldn’t be touching concrete when I walk.
And if it rains this week, then it’s clearly Sol trying to get his childish revenge on me by making me walk in the mud and ruin my new shoes.