{Empty title} | The Nation

Ah, those Space Scientists. Will we never learn to heed their judicious advice? They are, after all, from Space. We ought not to treat their advice like some kind of blipping Space Junk. They've seen things that we can't even imagine. Why, I've heard tell that among the transpertene bageldwarves of nebulonic ion cloud 4 this global warming once was blamed on aluminum salts released from the jettisoning brythonic muscidate used to power their omnithropitors--which had grown much too large and really served no other purpose than conspicuous display of credit wealth--what poppycock! What codswallop! It was the sun! Our sun whose incredible warming properties warmed their gaseous bath. It was just that property that once lured the Space Scientists across lonely treks of very large interstellar travel, to pay homage to all-them joules.

But I digest, back to the space scientists! Observe their tin-foilly dealy-bobs? Could such alloys lie? I think not. Clearly, this warming is nothing but axotl of the ampheblem-sphere of the heliostrophic nidus. Consume and spew, my earthlings. We must be carbonized for the harvest... I mean, if carbon is good for the earth--you and ferns and high-end bike chassis are made of it--excess carbon is must be even better! Consume! Consume! Grow fat! The Space Scientists bid you fatten up. All is well. All is well. What alarums are these? All is well. All is well.