Markus Stone

Markus Stone

Good Morning, Thermometer!

A thermometer lying on a wooden table in direct sunlight, showing an artificially high temperature reading.

Robin Williams once made us laugh about jungles hot enough to fry monks in their robes. Today, the same weather is repackaged as apocalypse. Temperature isn’t a divine decree—it’s a negotiation, massaged into “records” by those with careers to protect. If we’ve lost our ability to laugh at this theater, we’re already cooked.

Accounting for Original Sin

Person sleeping rough on a city pavement beside a backpack, symbolizing society’s overlooked costs and unintended consequences.

The IMF’s “fossil fuel subsidies” aren’t money—they’re morality dressed as math. By assigning imaginary prices to air, weather, and guilt, the Fund conjures five trillion dollars from thin air. It’s bureaucratic theater masquerading as economics, a sermon for the carbon-averse faithful. Meanwhile, civilization still runs—sinfully—on the fuel they condemn.