September 25th, 2008 | shivering sands
So I wake up this afternoon to Alex Steffen informing me that We’re All Doomed. To wit, the executive editor of Worldchanging.com was telling me that permafrost on the Arctic seabed has been warmed away, allowing vast underground pockets of methane to ascend in great "chimneys," causing the sea to foam and scientists to fall over in horror because methane is a greenhouse gas twenty times better at its planet-cooking job than good old CO2. These underground deposits were lidded over before the last ice age, apparently, and would have stayed bunged up if, ha ha, there hadn’t been rapid climate change in the Arctic over the last twenty years.
Should all concerns be confirmed, it appears that we’re all going to die from the escape of monstrous planetary farts from beyond history.
Funnily enough, though, Spook Turds From The Bottom Of The Sea are washing up on the shores of New Zealand. Now, this is New Zealand for you: a six foot long barnacled white lump of fatty crap turns up on the beach. What do the locals do?
Mrs Wilkie was keen to cut the greasy lump into blocks and sell it as
Because that’s the first thing you think of when an alien turd the size of a Smartcar plonks itself on the sand. Not "what in hell did that come out of?" But "can I screw a few dollars out of people by conning them into rubbing sea-monster shit on their skin?" You can at least rely on the English to try and screw it or smoke it first.
I can’t yet construct a workable theory explaining that these things were fired out of an underground sphincter in the Arctic. But I’d like to, if only to make James Lovelock swallow his tongue. Wouldn’t it be lovely to explain to him that we discovered where all the indigestible trans fats that we place into the earth in the form of dead people actually go?