I had a book of Bizarro comics a while back. One of them was titled something like "When Rednecks try to control the weather." It showed two guys in overalls, one holding a recently-fired rifle, looking up at the sun (which had several dark spots on it, rather like bullet holes). The other guy was saying something like "Shoot 'er again, Luke...maybe that'll cool us down."

I can almost see where those guys are coming from now.

Except I'd not be aiming for the sun but for the Evil Dome of High Pressure that has taken over the whole entire midsection (and maybe even more) of the country. We need to puncture that mother, so some of the cooler air from Canada can seep down. (And Canadians? If you're bogarting all the cooler air, that is *not right.* Understand?)

I mean, when you look at the weather map and there's a giant H centered over Kansas, and there's nothing - absolutely nothing - cloudwise going on anywhere from the Dakotas to the Texas Gulf, and from the Rockies to the Eastern Seaboard, something's wrong.

It bugs me that where I'm going for the meetings next week, even though it's NORTH of here, might be even hotter than here...apparently some place in the Dakotas registered 117. And yeah, yeah, global warming...but you know? The models I've seen didn't predict it this fast - this has got to be some stupid weather anomaly, probably caused by a weak jet stream or El Nino or something. The local weather guys are saying "six to seven WEEKS" before the heat breaks. That is too damn long. Even given the two weeks I will be traveling, that means a month or more - half of that time after fall classes have started - that it's going to be like 106* in the mid afternoon.

I mean, we can put a man on the moon. Surely we could puncture a high-pressure system and make it dissipate?

As I said before, if my Martha Stewart neighbor expects me to be out topiarying shrubs or replanting the zinnias that died from the heat, she can just suck eggs. No way I'm doing that in weather like this, and no way I'm hiring "Ramon" or "Eugene," her yard guys, and telling them to work in heat when I won't work in it.