Obama's Finger Isn't In The Air

"Back off, man. I'm a scientist."
-- Dr. Peter Venkman in "Ghost Busters"

Since the average person wouldn't know a scientist from a hockey stick, I'll try to explain the two basic types of people who tend to be called scientists

The type A scientist sees a graph of global temperatures for the past 2 hundred years and thinks, "That looks like the opening scene from 'The Outer Limits.'" If half the world is in summer while the other half is in winter, why doesn't it average out to a flat line?" "What other stuff products the same kind of graph?" "Where is the bathroom in this place?"

The type B scientist looks at the same graph and thinks, "If I get a few graduate students to write a computer model to turn that mess into a 'hockey stick' graph, I can call it global warming and get a government grant."

When Al "Fat Ass" Gore says, "the debate is over, we have a consensus of scientist," it just means all the Type B scientists agree the shortest distance between a scientist and government money is calling their "research" global warming.

If I hear "moving the The only difference between the global warmers and the weather controllers are the color of their tin-foil hats. They both believe the Jet Stream is a primary source. The warmers believe their computer models move it. The controllers believe the government (see HAARP) move it. Back in the real world, the Jet Warm is moved by a great big blob of cold air.

Every winter, Santa and his elves (the elves are really succulent wood nymphs sold into bondage by Zeus but this isn't about Santa's dark side) crank up the toy factory and triggering the migration of cold air masses to Flagstaff, Arizona. A herd of these little coldies is a few miles high, hundreds of miles wide and even more hundreds long. When early winter weather spoils you extremely, poorly planned annual nudity is beautiful picnic, are you going to blame the god awful weather on the tidal wave of cold air that has swamped the state or a river of fast moving air a few miles above? I'm sure CRU has a multi-million dollar answer that defies common sense.

I heard a radio caller claim he was up until 1 AM reading all the global warmer email. After reading all these emails, like Sgt. Schultz of "Hogan's Heroes," he saw nothing. Curiously, the only email that came to mind was the same one in most news stories about the hockey stick graph. The caller used the word "massage" the data instead of "tricks" used in the emails he so carefully read. It doesn't matter what words you want to use for lying. CRU is as much about science as Lex Luther is about Neighborhood Watch. [Curious coincidence that the terrorist arm of the SDS called itself the Weathermen.]

While the liberal media as ignore the greatest scientific hoax since the Piltdown Man, they were up at 5 AM PST awaiting the official pronouncement of Obama's Jobless Summit. Obama and an incredulous collection of corruption, criminal and insane decided behind closed doors how they are going to create jobs for America. The basic plan is to tax the evil capitalists until they start hiring more people. Since the Stimulus Program exceeded everyone's expectation (except mine) by creating 10% unemployment, they are going to start with Big Bother of Stimulus.

A source of green jobs will to be hire ACORN to break in peoples houses and a replace all the lights with pig-tail bulbs. Since "Cap and Trade" will make eccentricity unaffordable, no one will be turning on any kind of lights. Unions will take some time off from bankrupting companies to paint everything in the country white. Since the paint is lead based and a racist color, the political uproar will provide great entertainment for the few who can afford the electricity to turn on their TVs.

I start my vacation Thursday. All year our manager has been telling us he doesn't want us to forget our vacation and take it at end of the year. I've spend all year telling my manager, I have not forgotten my vacation. I have scheduled it for the end of the year.

I love the holiday season (no, I don't mean Christmas, I talking Halloween to the Super Bowl) because it bring out the true stupidity of the corporate man. Every year of my working life, America's entire work force spends three months planning the most unique Halloween costume, recipes, spices and inane tricks for cooking the perfect turkey, where to hide the Christmas presents from the kids and where to hide the Christmas bills from the working spouse, make resolutions and predictions for New Years Day, betting on Super Bowl, planning the Super Bowl parties, connecting the Super Bowl results to everything from the stock market to NASA space shuttle disasters. This happen every year as regular as grandma and a bottle of prunes.

No one is going to be squat at the end of the year. We all know this. It not a government secret or tin-foil conspiracy. Yet every corporation in America schedules its most critical projects for completion on December 31 at 11:59:59 PM.

Then comes my second love of this season, keep in mind, the corporation created the "use it or lose it" vacation policy. The project leader will launch a guilt attack, "We are up to our ass in alligators. You can't leave now." This is when I get to dust off my annual Christmas speech. Those well wore words that get me into the Christmas sprite and prepared for a new year.

"During this entire project, we have been up to our something personal and a surrounded by something dangerous. We were behind schedule before we started the project and every day since. We have worked nights and weekends to try to make up for our time stolen by meetings to determine why we are behind schedule."

"During the next two weeks, everyone on this project will be shopping online, stretching their lunch hours tor some Christmas shopping and sneaking off on extended breaks to pick up Christmas trees and decorations. Now, I'm have a guilt trip laid on me because I'm the only here using my vacation time during a time when I know nothing is going to be accomplished."

My job security comes not from being the smartest man on the project but the dumbest. No one wanted me gone for fear they would become the dumbest. I accept blame for anything and take credit for nothing. I never correct anyone in public but ask them for help in private (the kind of help that makes think through what they are doing.) I don't pretend to know things I don't know. I ask people who are looking for an excuse to get away from their boring work and research something interesting.

Admittedly, I'm not a saint. On occasion, too much stupid can become too much. I had one of the geniuses riding my back with the same problem for three days. It was the only time I've seen someone work the same complaint into a single sentence three times. I spend a long night determining the source of the problem and sent a email explaining we need to use our next meeting to decide how we wanted to fix the problem.

Keep in mind our east coast friends have scheduled this meeting on my west coast morning time. I've not yet had my coffee and the president of the United States thinks he works for a foreign government. The meeting was rambling along in its usual pointless matter when the genius of the geniuses suggested I run another to test to prove my conclude on the first genius's complaint. This is akin to saying, "It is all well and good that the dog has 4 legs in the living room. Now take it into the kitchen, turn it upside down and count the legs again." By happenstance, my manager was also on this call. He had never heard me when I choose to be heard.

I was trained by a Marine Corps drill instructor. "When I choose to be heard," even the dead try to plug their ears. My intake of breath was enough for the first genius in this story to start warning the target genius of my voice we didn't need another test. At this point imagine your 7th grade algebra teacher in a smokey the bear hat, with a 6 o'clock shadow, shouting at 110 decibels 1/2 inch from your face. I don't know what it sounded like over the phone but a great silence suddenly descended on this house. That settled the question of Byrum running any dumb ass tests.

Then the "visionary" of the project said as he is always prone to say, "we'll have to have a meeting to decide this." My inner DI spoke again, not with the volume of getting the mule's attention but with the bone-chilling certainty of death, "This is that meeting." The geniuses shut up. My team mates argued some fine technical points. And we had a plan and were ready to go. During the almost year I've been on this project, this was the first time a decision was made right then and there.

But this is Christmas, it's not about my boring, miserable life. This is a time of magic. A time when should all take time out and see the world through the eyes of our children. Life, the universe, everything is a great mystery. We have to pause and ponder it. We have to take one day a year to allow the miracles to happen. Yes, it's not possible. It can't be true. But we have all the other days of the year to be realistic, cynical. Why not one day? One lousy day to hope the impossible hope. to dream the impossible dream. One day to see the world in the wonder and truth of a child's eyes.

What if this Christmas we called a truce and didn't lie to ourselves for one day? Imagine, for one day, one lousy day, you admit to yourself what you do and why you are doing it. I'm not saying confess to the world. I'm just suggesting get up Christmas morning and look in the bathroom mirror. Who is that? Has it all been worth it? At that moment, facing yourself in the mirror, do you want to rehearse what you will say to God when the time comes? Can you say the sum of all the deeds of your life made the world a better place? Can you look back on your life without shame? We have all made mistakes. But was that a mistake or cold, calculating evil?

It doesn't matter if you go down to the animal shelter and rescue puppies before they are killed or fantasize dressing as Santa and slitting the throats of little girls, on this one day look into your soul and judge yourself. No "they made me" crap or "it's all they fault" nonsense. Every Christmas Day should be a day to ask, "Am I who I want to be?" If not, why not? You don't need a dopey late night commercial to change your life.