The De-Evolution of Man:Political Satire, Corporate Satire and more…

There I was minding my own business sitting at my computer, typing away while simultaneously watching the news, drinking Mountain Dew, chewing gum and thinking. Yes I multi-task, it is fortunate that I don’t think too deeply or the rest would be to difficult for me. So, in the half hour I watched the news they spent twenty-five minutes on the weather, showing me radar, graphs and charts of blue and red colliding in a dance of scientific analysis.

Yeh right, scientific analysis  they want me to believe. Where were they  when I got drenched last week after trusting their prediction of  a ten percent chance of rain. Who carries an umbrella when the weather-lady says only ten percent chance of rain.

I’m glad the Mountain Dew kicked in, because I would have passed out from boredom, but then something just got me riled up, something that I look at everyday just struck me as being ridiculous, it was an epiphany and at the same time I  knew my purpose in life.

It nagged at me night and day, I couldn’t sleep, I got out pencils and papers, plotted my own graphs, studied every weather forecast, researched the history of weather prediction looking for a common bond. But I had nothing.

OK, here’s my beef, here’s what struck me as unusual. How do these people determine that there is a twenty percent chance of rain as opposed to a thirty percent chance of rain for say Saturday? And Saturday is five days off.

Is there some special training? What in the history of weather prediction helped these people determine that oh, say on Friday there is a 10 % chance of rain and Saturday there is an 80% chance of thunderstorms.

How can they do this, five days in advance?

What school, what scientific analysis did these people utilize to determine this?

My first thought was since they’re never right that they just make it up to fill the airwaves, but they seemed to believe it.

So I called the local Indianapolis new station. I asked the question”How can you tell the difference between a thirty percent chance of rain and a say 40 percent chance?”

“Sir may I ask who’s calling? And why would you want to know this information?”

“Well” I replied. “The same fucking reason I care if there’s only a thirty percent chance of rain as opposed to a forty percent chance. Are you hiding something? From me? The world?”

Click.

OK. They are not doing this to me. Since the local Indianapolis news station is right around the corner from my home, I decided to pay them a visit.

I left my apartment and arrived at the station in less than five.

The door was locked, so I knocked, a security guard answered. I demanded to speak with a manager. I demanded.

When he arrived, I asked my question. He stated that the weather analyst went to school for years studying probability, statistics, and it was too complicated for a laymen like myself.

I became enraged. I knew there was a conspiracy, I wanted to know, Think of how we plan our lives. I never bring my umbrella on thirty percent chances of rain, but on fifty or above I bring it, picnics never above forty, and if it’s close to seventy I become depressed as the day approaches.

What is the science that has such a lock on my life?

I demanded an answer.

I was arrested.

Sent to the mental ward.

It didn’t stop me.

I escaped. Followed the weather woman, for days waiting to learn her secret. To know how they can predict these percentages. I needed to know.

One day I got my break, she entered a mysterious looking building in the middle of the night. I broke open a window on the second floor, worked my way down to the sound of laughter and yelling.

There I saw it, all the weathermen and woman of Indianapolis were writing on their notepads as one of them threw darts at a board. The board had various weather forecasts and percentages on it in a complicated pattern. I knew it. All those days I prepared for snow, rain or severe thunder, only to sit at home and have no rain. In addition, all those days I got soaked during days that were predicted as ten percentages.

I tripped. Ran. Got home and began writing this post immediately to tell the world of the conspiracy of the weather-people. The world must..

Ladies and gentleman I assure you that your weather forecasts are based on accurate scientific models. Please continue to make plans based on these weather predictions, despite the fact that they’re never correct.

The man that wrote this post is a sick man. Really to believe that we can’t accurately predict the weather is like saying we can’t control the national debt, control the economy or stop drugs from flowing into this country.

Written by Greg