In case you didn't know, last week we had several days in a row where the heat index got up to around 110 degrees. That is really fucking hot. Even at night, when it cooled down to 80 or so, the humidity rose to 85%. It was so hot during the day I felt dazed walking to my car from my office. I got mild heat exhaustion after running errands for an hour at lunchtime. It made me cranky (er, crankier), and when I experienced or was recovering from recently experiencing the heat, pretty much the only conversation my melted brain could put together was "mmmrrrmm fucking hot mrrrmm."
Yet every time it gets really hot, some jackhole writes a column in the paper complaining about how people keep talking about how hot it is. Like, "Oooh, look at all those idiots stating the obvious because their wee brains are so wee and feeble!" But I think it is YOU who are the idiot, Mr. or Ms. Columnist! We keep talking about how hot it is because it is the only thing we are thinking about. It's probably the only thing we are thinking about because most humans don't do very well running around in 110 degree heat, and our bodies are suffering and trying to tell us to find a cave or something and lie around until it cools off. Perhaps you lack this evolutionary instinct, and thus will die the next time you wander into the overheated world completely oblivious to the physical danger you face while you gab about Kierkegaard or hedge funds or whatever it is you deem suitable for conversation.
If you're going to complain about something, complain about the red teams.
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