Today was the hottest day since the evening in the summer of 1999 when I was naked on my bed laying ice cubes on my chest. Then the cable went out. Then, looking through my door into the kitchen, all of a sudden the toaster, which wasn't even on, burst into flames. I didn't even get up. "Seems about right," was all I could think. - XMASTIME
Six years ago today I was in Ireland, and chuckling to myself as the locals were (literally) melting down and panicking because the temperature might hit 70 degrees. No big dig deal. Oh by the way, on a side note, let me ask you something - WHY THE FUCK DO I NOT LIVE THERE????!!
SEE:
Of course this kinda stuff isn't quite as funny today, where the United Kingdom, or whichever part of that whole thingee is actually Irish, is fucking melting off the planet:
And all our infrastructure was built with lower temperatures in mind. Chaos has reigned. There were train tracks on fire, roads and airport runways melting, police smashing car windows to rescue boiling dogs, forest fires, suburban houses all over London burning down, Beefeaters being given bottles of water to suckle from like baby goats, surgeries cancelled because operating theatres were too hot, ambulances being called out left right and center to treat heat exposure, people’s leather sofas and rubbish bins and fences going up in flames. Every lush green park in the south of England looked like New Mexico overnight.
Late last night, the heat broke and rain swept over London. We’ll probably get warm, cloudy days for the rest of the summer. But this heatwave was a Petri dish in which to examine precisely how fucked the country is for the rapidly accelerating climate emergency. The results do not look good.
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