Hot Hot Heat, by Arthur Tebbel – Pop Art #95

September 28, 2010 Arthur Tebbel 3 Comments

Dear Art,
Hot enough for you?  I’m just kidding but I’m doing some really great work in Southern California this week.  I hope you appreciate it.  Anything else I can do for you?
-The Sun

Sol,
I usually don’t answer questions that aren’t from people but I had to make an exception this week after all the other letters burst into flame when the temperature reached 451 degrees Fahrenheit.   It was even worse later when all the lead started boiling.  I know that we spent a lot of time in the 90s learning that men were from Mars and women were from Venus but no one is capable of living on Mercury.  Keep this shit in check.

Normally I can’t stand people complaining about the weather in LA.  We bitch when it’s 92 with no humidity.  We bitch when it hits 70.  We might be the biggest wimps in the universe.  Last fall I was in New York wearing an overcoat shivering in temperatures in the mid-40s.  The New Yorker in me wanted to punch me right in the face.  At least with this hottest day on record business people have a good reason to complain.  On the negative, my living room spent much of this afternoon feeling pretty much exactly like a giant’s scrotum.

I guess trading three or four days of horrendous heat is worth it for the surprisingly mild summer we had.  I’ve spent most of the year taunting people back east with their persistent awful weather.  Karmically I was pretty much asking for a scorching fall.  I don’t know what this says from a global warming perspective.  I do know that the hottest day on record moving from June to September isn’t a great sign.  In case any conservatives need a translation I’m worried that God might be preparing the world for the rapture and we should make sure we don’t do anything to big business except line their pockets with more cash.  Emissions regulations are socialism even if they saved LA from choking to death on smog.

To wrap up, I hate you.  I can’t wait for the solstice so I can see way less of you.  I know I won’t be here to see it but when you go supernova and obliterate any trace of my having ever existed know that that’ll be worth it to know that you’re becoming a black hole.  Maybe then you’ll suck as much physically as you do metaphorically.