Sunday, June 03, 2007

Al Gore Was Born to Give Us Fever, Be It Fahrenheit or Centigrade

"The planet has a fever," Gore said. "If your baby has a fever, you go to the doctor. If the doctor says you need to intervene here, you don't say, 'Well, I read a science-fiction novel that tells me it's not a problem.'"


Or, here's another hypothetical.

You think the planet has a fever. You go to the doctor, and the doctor takes the planet’s temperature. ...

“Well?” says, Vice President Gore. “Pretty bad, huh? Hadn’t we better begin emergency treatment right away reckless of consequences?”

“The thing is,” says the doctor, studying the thermometer, “I’m not sure this planet even has a fever.”

“What!? Oh, he’s got a fever, all right! Why his temperature’s shot up 1°F in the past 100 years! At this rate, it’s going to increase almost 1°F by the year 2030!” (“Global Warming: How Hot? How Soon?”).

“That’s as may be,” said the doctor, already losing interest, “but the fact is, we don’t even know what this planet’s normal temperature is, so I’m in no position to say if this temperature even is a fever. For all any of us can say, we may as well raise his temperature as lower it. Besides, he’s seems sturdy enough, just looking at him.”


The doctor was already moving towards the door.

“You’re getting all worked up for nothing. My advice is to take little Planet Earth here home, give him a couple aspirin, and call me—you know what? Don’t call me. You’d better call my girl about an appointment some time maybe next—year.”

“But Doctor,” cried the Vice President, “The arctic ice could be gone in just 34 years! This is not a partisan issue, this is a moral issue! We need to count every vote! He played on our fears!”

But the doctor had a tee-time, and was replaced in the doorway by a hippy nurse flatly telling the Vice President that the room needed to be prepared for the next patient. “For real patients,” her unkind voice almost seemed to imply.

“C’mon little Planet Earth,” said the President Elect 2000, “this is clearly an assault on reason. May as well go get sumthin to eat. (SIGH).”

“Tacos! Tacos!” piped Planet Earth.

“Ho, ho, ho! Now, now, l’il planet, y’know what Mexican food does to our carbon footprint.”

“Tacos!” repeated Planet Earth, surprisingly uneffected by what the VP did or said.

“Well, all right then. I guess we can spare a few carbon credits. Then after that I think they’ll have to listen to us over at NASA.”

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