“Global warming is real – it is man-made and it is a problem. But it’s not the end of the world.” – Bjorn Lomberg, former director of the Environmental Assessment Institute in Copenhagen and author of the best-selling book, “The Skeptical Environmentalist”.
“I believe that global warming is a myth. And so, therefore, I have no conscience problems at all and I’m going to buy a Suburban next time.” – Rev. Jerry Falwell (1933-2007) , the late TV evangelist and ultra-conservative political commentator.
This argument over whether or not we’re slow-cooking the world and ourselves has been raging for years now. And frankly I’ve grown tired of it. In fact, if we capped and sealed every blowhard spewing from both sides of this issue we’d go a long way toward solving two problems – probably reduce carbon emissions by at least 10% and the energy we’d harness from them could power every smartphone and iPad from this shining sea to the other one.
A nice idea but it ain’t going to happen. So, go to Plan B. Find another way to end this seemingly never-ending worldwide snit. Settle this argument once and for all. One way or the other. I went looking. Couple days later, I found the answer. Actually, the answer.
Yes Virginia, there is global warming. And I have the proof.
You see, for the definitive verdict on global warming – the proof is the pooping.
One summer’s morning last month, in the sleepy New England town of Windsor, Vermont, residents woke up to find their nostrils curdling. Evidently not the usual way the day begins up there, leaving more than one wondering aloud, “Yikes, what the hell is that smell?”
A very good question, since the whole town was smelling it. The authorities were called and the search for the stench began and soon ended at the Oak Knoll Diary, a 800-goat farm located just south of town.
There, they and the owners found a 120 cubic-yard pile of goat crap. They also found it spewing smoke and flames. But no matches nearby. No flammable liquids. And no arsonists. But still, they got their man-ure.
According to a UPI news account, officials alerted the public via the “Windsor, Birthplace of Vermont” Facebook page.
“We have been getting a lot of calls about the odor permeating our community that smells like the town is on fire,” the post read. “Here is the answer: Very early this morning a pile of goat manure spontaneously combusted. The fire department is on the scene and taking care of it. There is no danger to life or property.”
Maybe they should make that the “Windsor, Fireplace of Vermont” Facebook page. Said George Redick, who owns the farm with his wife, Karen Lindbo, “I used to think (spontaneous combustion) was make-believe, but now I’m a believer.”
Spontaneous combustion. One minute, poop. Next minute, poof. Where there’s shit, there’s fire. Uh, things probably got to get pretty warm around here to make excrement explode and ignite, right?
