Nooze

T.C. Folkpunk

An Open Letter To Meteorologists:

Hello.

You're not fooling us, you know. We're onto your game. Like that nonsense about "long range forecasts", which we all know is a marketing ploy to get us to tune into whatever newscast you work for. Listen, I have a relative who for years worked as a commercial airline pilot. If anybody needs to know what the weather will be like for the next week, you'd better believe it's the guy who has to fly a few tons of jet airliner through the stuff. And yet after years of watching Five Day Forecasts on the evening news, he's come to the conclusion that your (shall we say) "gift of prophecy" is really only good for the next twelve hours, and beyond that you're (shall we say) "being creative".

And another thing. What is with this whole game of Blame The Weatherman on the news? You know what I mean, that sort of would-be humourous exchange that happens between you and the anchorman whenever there's bad weather on the horizon which usually goes something like:

Anchorman: "Well, Jim, it looks like we're not going to have a very nice weekend, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Weatherman: (forced chuckle) "Ha ha Steve, yes well what can I say, I do what I can, but sometimes the weather doesn't come along exactly the way I'd ordered it. Ha ha." (forced chuckle again).

When in fact the exchange SHOULD unfold something like:

Anchorman: "Well, Jim, it looks like we're not going to have a very nice weekend, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Weatherman: "Look you bubble-headed prat, once you learn how to pronounce the word Zimbabwe properly, then you'll have earned the right to get cute and flippant during the newscast, but until then go piss up a tree and by the way your fly is open, you vacuous twit."

Now THAT'S a newscast I'd watch...