Recently we asked you, our readers:
What does the United States’ complete pullout from the Parisian front (less the couple of thousand ‘military advisors’ we left behind, *wink wink*) mean to you?
In case you’ve been on a peyote bender in the Atacama, that was an allusion to some game-changing news in the climate “world”: Donald Trump has officially renegged on America’s warmth-guilt payments in Paris this week. (That’s gay Paris—not the one in Texas.)
Whereas skeptics believe the US should have negged on the treaty from the get-go, more sobre voices are describing this announcement as a literal act of war against the Earth herself. The President’s geno-suicidal antics, according to clear-thinking people everywhere, have single-handedly turned the world’s preeëminent hyperpower into an untouchable “scientific outcast.”
Congratulations, meanwhile, to the winners [below] of our valid scientific poll. Remember to check your e-wallets for your $0.01 USD (1.29 × 10-22 bitcoins, or 1.57 × 10-23 for those who opted to be paid in bytecoins).
With added ado, I now present our Survey Results: anonymized for clarity, cherry-picked for effectiveness and summarized for policymakers. ■
Thank you, Mr President, for pulling out of Paris. But what business did our servicemen and servicepeople have there to begin with? The city’s beguiling alleys and laneways are death-traps for modern infantry, and Baron Haussmann infamously modelled her shadeless, geometric boulevardes on machine-gun testing ranges.
New Rule: from now on, we count to 10 before invading anything UNESCO classifies as a Graveyard of Empires.
I’d give President Trump six stars if this was Amazon, and if you were allowed to do that on Amazon.
Pulling out of Jacques feels almost as good as pulling out of Iraq, which was almost as good as pulling out of Barack.
This is already shaping up to be the American Century!
Monsieur le Trompe may like to act the bouffon, but he grasps something his predecesseurs never did: that you Americans are lovers, not fighters.
For us Parisiens—the true heirs to Charlemagne—this “conflict” hasn’t been a siege so much as an exercise in shooting fish in a barrel containing nothing but fish. Using a MAUL.
Alors—braveaux, Messieurs Obama et Bush! The Sacred Territory just got even sacreder with the blood of the flower of your youth. Please donate again.
Clichy Sous Bois
Madness. Sheer madness. Empirecraft 101 says you withdraw in stages.
Now we’re about to find out if cold turkey kills France, or merely hospitalizes her.
She is, after all, an idea; the Land of the Franks was a cartographic fiction at the best of times. Absent a torture-happy strongman to keep the more internecine elements in line, the papier-mâché peace that now obtains between her Sunni and Shi’a départements won’t last six months.
When Paris is burning, will we finally learn the lesson any Khanate, Reich or Raj in history could have taught us?
I believe it was me who first put it best: Trump’s failure to go along with whatever the rest of the world was doing, I said, ‘represents a shameful abdication of American leadership.’
The whole climate thing is obviously a scam, but would it have killed us to remain in Paris a bit longer… maybe take in some shows? (I for one could have spent a whole ‘nother day at the Louvre.)
Hell, would the climate talks have cost us a single dollar we didn’t want to pay? The most “binding” “document” that’s ever “emerged” from these “processes” is a large alcohol tab. Why should this year’s feelgood honor-system politicoscientific circle-fap be any different?
In short, We The People call on President Trump to stop being a pussy and go back to the City of Love, but this time we also demand a stopover in Singapore.
Dear America, don’t let the door hit you on your way out to the cold. Please take India, China and the rest of the strictly-ironic participants with you, since they seem to find their solemn climate undertakings so amusing.
Good riddance to bad faith, I say.
The sooner all the crypto-denier rogue states and petrocratic energy junkies are out of here, the sooner the remaining 19% of us can get on with crafting a meaningful, global response to the climate threat.
Which is the greatest enemy of life on Earth since telomere attrition.
Weep. Weep for Princess Gaia Organa, our shared mother.
Everyone alive today will remember where they were, what they were teaching and where they were thinking about skiing next Christmas on Wednesday afternoon, when millions of voices cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced.
I’m an Australian climate academic, so I’m scared of very, very little—but I fear something truly Alderaany may have happened this week.
As a hardworking vendor of maps, miniature Eiffel towers and scale models of baguettes, the only word that covers it is stupéfait. I’m stupéfait.
This is how Americans repay half a century of warm French hospitality?
They should count themselves lucky that it goes against every fibre of our national character to hold a grudge. Otherwise some tourists from Podunk, Wisconsin might find themselves on the receiving end of a less-verbose-than-usual welcome in my croissanterie tomorrow.
O, what the hell hath man wrought this time?
According to scientists, the Earth now has the flu, which means Mars and Venus are next. Mark my words: the whole solar system is going to have a runny nose and a tickly, unproductive cough by the end of the week.
I hope you feel clever, America. This is what happens when you let a scientific dyslexic occupy the highest, most ovoid office in the free world.
If only there were a stupidity shot your GP could give you people every year, around the start of the ignorance season. Why are medical scientists dragging their feet on this? That’s the real story here: the gratuitous annual hecatomb of zero point six trillion dollars in health research. And for what? A slightly better pill for the impotence all my other meds are causing? Um, what was the question? Yours sincerely, &c.
I’m a lifelong supporter of both Donald Trump and the office of Donald Trump. So it’s hard for me to say this, but by dragging America into full-scale hostilities with the Earth itself, he’s gone slightly too far.
How many times did the world’s scientists try to tell us: hey guys, you really ought to wait until Northern winter to attack the planet, when studies show it’s most vulnerable!
But this guy doesn’t do Science, does he? Sigh.
Hail to the Chief! I’m a proud military mom who’s thanking God that her boys will be fighting an inanimate, oblate spheroid this time. It’ll be great to have them home by Christmas for a change.
The desire to ostracize, mock and shame our American cousins for their recent episode of insanity is not only an understandable but a laudable one.
That said, as a member of Gujarat’s dalit caste who has Hansen’s disease over 80% of my body and can’t remember where I put the other 20%, I’d like to challenge the world community to come up with a more imaginative, sensitive and inclusive lexicon of shunning.
Please do not publish this, as US foreign aid pays for the leprosarium I live in.
Have I woken up outside America? Last time I checked, only Congress had the power to make war on planets—”foreign or domestic,” in the beautiful and lucid prose of our forefathers.
Ask around: I’m pretty much the last guy who’d ever defend the Earth, much less the loathsome “environment” associated therewith, but still… the Constitution matters. Impeach this peroxide-drunk himbo while there are still some procedural traditions left unflouted!
Four days ago, from the rooftops of Paris, our leader loudly put the planet on notice that a state of war exists between America and Nature. This was obviously a considered, multifactorial decision with which reasonable people can agree or disagree.
On the one hand, the Earth has had it coming for years. On the other hand, would you send your son or daughter into battle for a Commander in Chief who so casually squanders the advantage of surprise?
Right now, several villages in China are powered entirely by the revolving cadaver of Sun Tzu.