It’s official, everyone, climate change is real because the senate said so.
The senate sat down and had a little vote this week, and declared that yes, “climate change is real and not a hoax.”
I don’t know. My first instinct when I saw this was to laugh. It seems so silly to me that they had to vote on it, as if they were putting to vote if the sun was real or a hoax.
Once I got past the silliness of it all, I kept reading, and this majority vote isn’t that awesome—don’t get too excited. They voted in agreement on the scientific fact that the climate always changes, not agreeing on the current cause–humans.
The senate is partially right–it’s not a hoax; the climate changes and responds to whatever the biggest “forcing” is. A forcing is exactly what it sounds like; it’s whatever has the most influence on the climate, whether it’s the earth’s rotation, a volcanic eruption, a meteor hitting the earth, or billions of humans. If you were standing and I pushed you as hard as I could, you’d fall to the ground because I was the biggest forcing around you.
Science can be confusing. Trust me, I’m a geology minor, and I sometimes feel like I’m in a foreign country until I learn the language. I prefer to use stories.
The Goodrich Club is the co-op that I live in with 9 humans, 4 cats, a dog and a turtle.
The house changes a lot, depending on the group of people living there, among other things. All houses change.
Our house has gone through some serious shit in that stretch of time. Many of the things were just out of our control like when a tree came crashing into our house during a microburst.
But humans, not the menagerie of animals, fuck the house up the most.
It’s the legendary foam party that warped the floors and basement ceiling, the gutter that rockets water into the basement because the long drainpipe was run over, the broken cabinet doors hidden in higher cabinets, the molding pots, the rank meat never thrown away in the refrigerator, the years and years and years of stomping feet, holes in the walls from drunken fights like archeological evidence, a neglected leak that drip drip drops into the tool box.
We’re a small group of humans, but we’ve done a shit load of damage over the years. No one feels an enormous responsibility because the house has been this way since the 70s. It’s the GC way. Plus we’re only here for a little while. It’s someone else’s problem.
One day, past and current clubbies abuse of the house will be someone else’s problem. Something will break and change to the point where people can’t live in the Goodrich Club anymore.