If you even think for a second about putting a wind farm near my house, I will come to your home while you sleep and beat you to death with your own ornamental stairway railing. I’m not arguing with you about how important wind power is; I just don’t ever want to see one of them within 275 miles of my home. I live in peaceful, quiet country, where neighbors treat each other with respect, where our 6,000 square-foot houses need room to breath, and where the rolling hillsides should not be interrupted by giant white monstrosities whipping their blades around at 1,000 miles per hour. So don’t even fucking consider it.

And I haven’t even addressed my summer home at Cape May. I mean, I’m honestly getting choked with rage right now as I consider the possibility that you might soil my view of the sublime, endless ocean with two-inch high turbines 15 miles out to sea. If I so much as sniff a plan for an offshore wind farm within a week’s yacht ride of that house, you and all your commie, crunchy friends will be hunted down and slaughtered, one by one.

Look, take a lesson from the oil companies: they never tried to foist their energy infrastructure on we well-meaning, humble and hard-working denizens of the country’s top tax bracket. Are there pipelines that could burst into flame near my summer home? Are there giant oil tanks in these pleasant rolling hills around my house? No. You know where they are? Near poor people, of course. So please, renewable energy mavens: keep your turbines where they belong, or I will feed your face into a high-powered ceiling fan.

There are plenty of ideas out there, like… you know what? Screw it. We as a species can’t handle this sort of deferred gratification, so why bother trying? I mean, whenever I read about those experiments with three-year-olds turning down the prospect of two cookies in fifteen minutes in order to eat one now, I immediately side with the kid. Who knows what will happen in 15 minutes? I might be hit by a bus in five. You just can’t tell. Give me the fucking cookie.

Similarly, who cares if the planet as we know it will disappear within the next decade or two, killing off countless innocent species and creating a global flow of refugees that will utterly destroy economies and create an even bigger divide between the haves and have-nots. Are there any climate refugees NOW? (Shut up, small town in Alaska. I don’t care about you.) Have sea levels risen and swallowed Bangladesh YET? No? Then yeah, we don’t need legislation or any other plan.

And you know what else? If China isn’t going to enact some strong climate rules, then why should we here in the US? They’ve got, like, 100 times as many people as we do, which totally means they emit 100 times as much carbon dioxide and junk. If waiting for them to act first means destroying the world and possibly turning our planet into another Venus within a few hundred years, then so be it. We had a good run, and we can all blame China as the temperature rises to 800 degrees.

So I’m done mourning the climate bill. This will probably all work itself out anyway. I hear Greenpeace is taking care of it.

Though appointed by the President, EPA administrator Lisa Jackson can pretty much go home and do nothing.

Senator Lisa Murkowski (R—Alas.), fresh off her failure to block the Environmental Protection Agency from protecting the environment, has proposed another resolution with a much broader scope: it would block all government agencies from doing pretty much any of the stuff they’re supposed to do. There are indications of bipartisan support.

“Nothing should ever be done by unelected bureaucrats, everything that the government does needs to be handled by us, the elected officials,” Murkowski said during a press conference. “I am proposing that we put the power back into the representatives of the people of this country.” She walked away from the podium before a reporter could finish pointing out that government appointees are appointed by elected officials.

Reactions from the Senate were largely favorable, but calls to some of the agencies in question highlighted some concerns over just what might happen if agency powers are revoked en masse. A spokesperson at the Food and Drug Administration wondered, “Is Congress going to vote to approve every single drug coming on the market? Because that would make our jobs a whole lot easier, actually.”

When told of the resolution, Secretary of the Treasury Tim Geithner walked away mumbling “they want this shitstorm, it’s all theirs.” Among the other complicated and time consuming jobs that would fall back into the hands of Congress would be reviewing scientific research grants for the National Institutes of Health and approving licenses for nuclear power plants.

“Regulation of pretty much everything is too important to leave to the experts appointed specifically to regulate those things,” Murkowski said. “We members of Congress are more than capable when it comes to every last task the government should ever have, and this resolution would take the unnecessary powers away from government agencies.”

When reached for comment at home, former director of FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, Mike Brown, said “Seriously? And they couldn’t have done this five years ago? Shit.”

So we at TreeHumper decided to play a little game: Can you differentiate which of the following terms are oil spill-related (or oil rig) and which ones are either a Steven Seagal or Jean-Claude Van Damme movie? Good luck!

(And no cheating by looking at IMDB. All you’ll learn is that Van Damme’s very first acting credit was when he played a character called “Gay Karate Man.” Seriously. Also, I make no claims as to the below movie descriptions’ veracity. They’re probably terrible, so whatever.)

1. Glimmer Man

A. Van Damme movie where he plays someone who accidentally touched a futuristic cloaking device (“NO! The gamma-12 rays are too powerful!”) and now blinks in and out of existence while trying to save the world (and a hot chick with ’80s hair who provides an unexpected nude scene that OF COURSE also features Jean-Claude’s ass).

B. The oil rig worker responsible for monitoring pressure and gas flow into the well, named as such because of the “glimmer” of hope that he could actually alert people in time if a problem arises.

C. Seagal movie involving some Wayans brother or other that is probably supposed to be a buddy cop movie but ends up just being sad.

2. Dead Man’s Switch

A. A secondary safety device meant to shut off the flow of oil between the well and the rig if something bad happens.

B. Seagal movie where he almost gets killed about 17 times but the bad guys never bother to actually just shoot him in the face when he’s down, and he continually is able to revive and beat the shit out of people. Yes, I am aware this describes every Seagal movie. Doesn’t make it wrong, though.

C. Van Damme movie where he trades places with a dead guy whose body is being shipped into the heart of cartel country in Colombia so he can pop out of the coffin and wreak remarkably flexible havoc.

3. Top Kill

A. Van Damme movie where he plays a hired assassin with a heart of gold. He only kills high level and evil politicians around the world, but when he is hired to kill his former mentor in cool assassin skills (flashback montage!) Van Damme has some serious soul searching to do. The mentor has since become a vicious warlord — does Van Damme just kill him, turn down the assignment knowing someone else would do it, or try and reform his former friend?

B. Seagal movie where some evil guys stage a battle royale-style contest for evildoers, mixed with a scavenger hunt. The evil guys have a list of nemeses to assassinate, including do-gooder politicians, CIA agents who thwart their evil deeds, and the like. Seagal figures out the plan and stages his own killing spree, moving up the ladder of evil until he finally is face to face with King Evil Guy (played by… I dunno, Rutger Hauer? Sure) and can finally finish the… Top Kill!

C. Oil gusher plugging effort involving shooting tons and tons of mud into the well to try and plug the leak. This is what is known in the business as a “low-tech,” or “throwing shit at the wall and hoping something sticks” solution.

4. Fire Down Below

A. Van Damme movie where he dies, goes to hell, and can fight his way back against a series of demon-like villains. That’s kinda it. Oh, and the dude who played Chong Li in Bloodsport is one of them, just for kicks. In case you can’t guess, Van Damme beats the shit out of him again, only with his eyes open this time.

B. Strangely relevant Seagal movie about chemical industry jackasses destroying nature as well as Seagal’s friends. Appropriate Seagal revenge/retribution action ensues, nature is saved. Or something.

C. Oil gusher containment method involving a super-hot flame to actually burn the oil up as it leaves the well, 5,000 feet under water. Some chemical mixture or other is brought down there with a robotic submarine and set on fire, and the blaze is able to sustain because it burns at more than 5,000 degrees. This is a temporary fix while relief wells or whatever can be drilled.

5. Replicant

A. Oil rig safety device that diverts gas and oil flow away from the rig through a failsafe pipe in case of catastrophic failure down at the well. Didn’t work. Obviously.

B. Seagal movie where bad guys have created a weapon that not only kills you when it hits, but also remotely infects anyone you’re directly related to and kills them as well after a couple of days. Seagal’s wife’s brother gets hit, meaning he only has two days to get the bad guys and find an antidote. Hurry, Seagal!

C. Van Damme movie where scientists create a good guy clone of Van Damme’s serial killer character. The clone has to try and catch the killer. Hijinks galore!

6. Containment Dome

A. Van Damme movie involving a futuristic prison: all bad guys in 2017 (because movies NEVER go far enough in the future to make us unable to mock them later) are placed inside a giant dome that floats around the world’s oceans. Van Damme is sent there, falsely of course, and he has to fight his way through the hierarchy of bad dudes and find a way out of the dome.

B. Oil gusher solution involving lowering a giant metal structure over the top of the leak in order to reverse-funnel the oil up to the surface. Some badass methane got in the way.

C. Seagal movie where basically the exact same thing as the Van Damme movie happens, only the dome is in the New York Harbor and all the convicts are about to escape and overrun the city. Seagal prevents the apocalypse.

Well, we hope you enjoyed the quiz. I’m off to pitch some of the fake ideas above, because I can totally picture one of those guys making these. And if not Seagal or Van Damme, I think The Rock is available.

ANSWERS:

1. C  2. A.  3. C  4. B  5. C  6. B

Have you ever tried to clean an oily bird? You would think that it would be appreciative, given that it doesn’t have opposable thumbs or access to these nifty oil brushes and washers they let us use down here. Well, you would think wrong. These assholes just want to get away from you, in spite of all your best intentions. They can’t stop squawking and trying to eat various digits, even though they’re dripping BP’s profit margins from every feather.

I’ve tried to reason with them. Please Mr. Gannet, I swear, I am only trying to help. You will feel better without Venezuela’s principal export covering your entire body. But they don’t listen. That gannet pecked my arm so deep I needed stitches. And his fucking beak was covered in oil so it burned like hell and they had to clean the wound incredibly thoroughly before even beginning to stitching process. All that just because I love nature so much.

And don’t even get me started on the turtles. GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR SHELL, JACKASS, I NEED TO CLEAN THE OIL FROM YOUR EYEBALLS. Nope. I’m just going to chill in here, away from the only being in the universe currently trying to save my life.

This oil spill is a tragedy of epic proportions, but usually tragedy brings everyone together. I shudder to think what this pelican I’m trying to clean would be like if I met him under normal circumstances. I mean, if he’s this much of a dick when I’m attempting to remove hydrocarbons from his bulbous neck pouch thing, I can’t imagine I’d get the time of day if I just stopped by to say hello some time. Take note, pelican: your manners suck. Next time you land in some oily water, be prepared to tone it down a notch when the help arrives.

Most of the major environmental organizations are probably rolling out all sorts of events and press releases and activities to celebrate and promote awareness (we say “probably” because we haven’t actually checked), but here at TreeHumper we would like to take the opportunity to say thank you to some lesser known champions of the earth. Much lesser known. Here is a rundown of some of environmental heroes working a bit more under the radar.

GMC Sierra Club

Unlike its more well-known and wide-ranging cousin, the GMC Sierra Club spends all of its time driving around in its namesake, stopping wherever an environmental crime is occurring. Its members jump out of the car and dole out some what-for before speeding away again. In 2002, they singlehandedly stopped the felling of THREE trees in the Pacific Northwest.

Sea Goatherd Conservation Society

Using guerilla tactics, the Sea Goatherds work tirelessly to stop the senseless slaughter of that darling of the ocean, the sea goat. What, never heard of it? Me neither. Well, I called them and asked, and they told me to fuck off.

Environmental Offense Fund

Much like the GMC Sierra Club, these guys just fuck people up who do something bad to the environment. They’ve been around for a while. Ever hear from the captain of the Exxon Valdez after 1989? Yeah, didn’t think so.

PucePeace

I’m not really clear on what these guys do. They’re rabidly vocal, though, and generally will not compromise about anything, so really, they’re Greenpeace with an uglier name.

PETA: People Eating Tasty Animals

This one is real! Or it was, sorta. Some guy registered the domain name back in 1996 and the OTHER group with that acronym sued him. Dicks.

Autobahn Society

This group, with a history dating back into the middle of last century, drive around Germany really fast and try not to hit birds along the way. They are… mostly successful.

National Resources Defense Council

This group formed as an offshoot of NRDC when a number of their employees went insane with anger because everyone kept thinking their N stood for “National.” All of its members are locked away in various mental institutions around the country, but they write lots of letters on recycled paper, or something.

Today is that day at TreeHumper’s worldwide headquarters in [redacted due to terrorist threat concerns]. All you April Fools Day bloggers and writers and internet meme-ers, you are making us feel sad. And for some reason the environmental realm seems to have an inordinate number of merry pranksters. Audubon is having a field day, and if you don’t think those new EPA mountaintop removal regulations are a joke then you’re as naive as you are ugly. Whoops, sorry, told you we’re having a cranky day over here.

Seriously, just lay off and let us do our job, okay? We work really long hours trying to come up with fake news and really deep insightful fake analysis of that fake news, which we then fake pray will be fake retweeted by the people we know are actually just fake robots someone programmed into our computers’ memory. Why would those robots even bother retweeting us today? There’s a thousand fake stories to send out into the ether as a strange and exhibitionist means of illustrating the types of links that make YOU who YOU are. Or whatever.

I’m sorry. We started drinking early today, just to ward off the heart-wrenching sadness involved with watching the internet explode in 24 hours of gleeful fakery. You have to understand. It’s how doctors would feel if one day everyone converted to Christian Science and started treating their own scabies and pancreatic cancer.

So please, try and remember whose jobs you’re usurping today as you write your carefree bullshit and hurl it off into the Giant Dumptruck of Tubes. Usually, we love you. Today, we hate your fucking faces. Now we’re going to go start a fire and put it out ourselves. August 12 is too far away to wait.

New analysis shows Pachauri not actually a giant ball with a face.

Not so long ago, the TreeHumper investigative team did some in-depth reporting on the ClimateFence scandal. One of our revelations was that the chair of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, Rajendra Pachauri is actually “one half of a set of anthropomorphized testicles.” Like any good journalist or human being, we can man up to it and say: We were wrong.

Look, the guy’s been through a lot recently. The IPCC has been knocked around so often in the last few months it’s starting to look like Tiger Woods on the wrong end of Elin’s 9-iron. There were the hacked emails, there was a general failure of the UN process in Copenhagen, and then the issues surrounding the on again-off again melting of the Himalayan glaciers. And that’s before we get to Pachauri’s personal issues.

He has been accused of having conflicts of interest because of consulting fees paid out by companies like Toyota, and there have been repeated calls for his resignation. But come on — he published a novel called Return to Almora that is apparently just filled to the brim with crappily written sex. In fact, the main character (an engineer/environmentalist in his 60s—CLEARLY no relation to Pachauri himself) loses his virginity with such bosom-heaving description as when he was “overcome by a lust that he had never known before.” Awesome.

Here’s where the TreeHumper investigators made our mistake: we mistook the fact that he LOVES his testicles with the idea that he IS a testicle. It could happen to anybody, really. So we want to throw our support behind the IPCC chair; lord knows he needs it from SOMEone. We would like to see him stick around for the IPCC’s Fifth Assessment Report, which will take a look at all the updated science on global warming and hopefully not fuck up anything too drastically. Watch your decimal places, boys.

So, Rajendra: We’re sorry we called you a testicle. You’re not. Just keep doing what you’re doing, stay strong, balls out.

An Inconvenient Booth

An Inconvenient Ruth

An Inconvenient Loofa

Hockey stick graph my ass.

The deniers have been out in force recently, trumpeting about how the extended cold snap in many parts of the world is evidence that global warming is a myth. I am well aware of the convincing scientific arguments as to why that is utter nonsense, and that the last decade was the hottest ever recorded, and all of that. Really, I am. But I have to tell you: I am just freezing my fucking nuts off right now.

Seriously, have you been outside in the last week or two? It’s terrible! Yesterday I walked three blocks to pick up my dry cleaning, and on the way back I lost all feeling in my left side. I thought I was having a stroke! And I’m mostly confident that I wasn’t.

I understand completely how a few weeks of cold weather in the winter has very little to do with the extended trends of the planet warming, but you have to admit that this is getting weird. I mean, if you were God, and you wanted to convince people that they actually were pretty powerless and that you can raise or lower the temperature when you damn well please, wouldn’t you throw this cold snap in our face just to get your point across? I know I would.

Shit, even Florida is freezing these days! The whole orange crop is going to be lost, or something! I thought there were laws against winter in Florida. The mercury drops another couple of degrees, and we’ll have a state full of frozen old people.

I’d like to believe in global warming. Really. I want Congress to pass an effective climate bill, I want our economy to invest in energy efficiency and green jobs, and I want to help keep carbon dioxide to whatever level that batshit insane McKibben guy crows about. But what I really want is a space heater and a down comforter. I want to feel my face again when I go outside. I want my testicles to finally descend out of their hiding place somewhere near my kidneys. If we have to deal with global warming, I want to feel like I’m dealing with global warming. Until then, I’m staying inside.