This from the comment section...
We live in a republic that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with thermometers. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Dr. Schneider? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for those Polar bears and you curse the temperature takers. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. My existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves useless expenditure of national treasure. You don't want the truth. Deep down, in places you don't talk about when your are sleeping alone late at night after those George Town cocktail parties after chowing down on limp quiche and swilling a third rate California Chardonnay devoid of pretension, you want me on that wall you need me on that wall.
We use words like Little Ice Age, Medieval Warming Period, and Toga Parties ...we use these words as the backbone to a life devoted to taking temperature. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the electric blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it. I'd prefer you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a thermometer and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to
