The Passing Parade: Cheap Shots from a Drive By Mind

"...difficile est saturam non scribere. Nam quis iniquae tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus, ut teneat se..." " is hard not to write Satire. For who is so tolerant of the unjust City, so steeled, that he can restrain himself... Juvenal, The Satires (1.30-32)

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

PHIL REDUX: I wrote this two years ago on my former blog, which has unfortunately gone the way of all flesh due to my screwing around with the template html without my knowing what the hell I was doing, something that in almost every form of human endeavor is a recipe for disaster, and that time was no different. However, my opinion of the Pennsylvania prognosticator has not changed since I wrote this, although I think that this year Phil didn't bother waiting to see his shadow; he stuck his head out of his hole, felt how cold it was and said, "the hell with this," and went back to bed.

WILL NO ONE FREE US FROM THE TYRANNY OF THAT GODDAM GROUNDHOG?! Who decided that this Punksareusanytakers Phil was the groundhog of all groundhogs, the one true meteorological rodent before whom we must all bow down? What was it about this particular woodchuck that made him and not, say, the woodchuck who is, even now, undermining the foundation of my garage, the go to rodent in weather forecasting? And how do we know that Phil is on the up and up? How do we know that powerful skiing interests and the sellers of snowmobiles have not entered into a secret cabal to extend winter in order to maximize their profits? What's in it for Phil? In short, I want a second opinion


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