Recently, a local meteorologist contacted us about writing a piece for the site. He was inspired by Henry's hatred of hot weather. So the Mad Meteorologist will be providing comments on the weather in our newest series Fucking Forecast. He asked to remain anonymous as he will be giving us his honest opinion on the city's newsrooms.
Surrounding yourself with idiots first thing in the morning is not how most young people envision their life when they become adults and enter the professional world. Here I am, getting up early every morning, to run some data and models on what the ever mysterious weather will do today, tomorrow, and so on, and I have to be surrounded by Ken and Barbie and an adult who foams at the mouth when he speaks about other men playing with sticks and balls (he is a raging homophobe).
It was not supposed to happen like this, but I made the decision to study science or the "art of weather and climate forecasting" if you will. I suppose that makes me an artist of sort. Anyway, September is here, and meteorologically that means one thing: the end of summer and the beginning of autumn. The rest of the world gets this (for the most part). But we Americans always have to do things different with our customary units and all (really I do not mind the customary units as Fahrenheit works better for temperature, but Celsius works better for cooking, we should incorporate both). And our autumn begins on the autumnal equinox.
When I announce that summer is over, Ken and Barbie pounce on me and say we still have several more weeks. Who fucking cares, plastic people? The seasons are nothing more than a societal construct, one which dates back to mythology. Seriously, the Greeks thought the seasons were created by some woman looking for her daughter half the year when she was with Pluto. Those ancient Greeks, even the weather involved passion for them.
So here we are today, wondering when autumn is supposed to start. Stop worrying about the seasons. Whether today is summer or autumn is irrelevant. The only thing you need to be worried about is that it will be hot and humid (sorry Henry) and you are going to hate it. Call it summer, call it fall, it really does not matter at all.
Image courtesy of Bryan Katz.
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