Today is a great day. For while many are chastising President Trump for his decision to remove the United States from the Paris Climate Deal, I find myself relieved. Why? Because for the first time in my life, I can freely speak my mind about something very important to me.
Fuck the ocean.
Phew, that felt good. Let me say it one more time:
Fuck you, ocean.
Sorry, you overrated big blue puddle. You may inspire some to write poetry, or to search their inner souls for answers, or to buy a timeshare and stare at you. To me, you’re nothing but a wet waste of my time. You’re filled with things that bite, sting, and die all the time.
For years, I’ve had to hide how I feel from friends and family. I’ve only cried twice in my whole life: when I was born, and when my now ex-girlfriend surprised me with tickets to the aquarium.
“I don’t understand,” she said over my sobs. “You said you love museums!”
“An aquarium is not a museum, Denise,” I explained, taking a moment to stop crying out of fear that my tears would pool at my feet and create another ocean. “It’s a damp nest of nightmare creatures that defied God and time itself to survive. Why in the name of fuck would I want to go through a dimly-lit collection of saltwater prisoners and let them see a human freely walking around?”
I broke up with her on the spot, taking a moment to scream at a painting of sea otters I thought were real. I left and spent the rest of the day walking by myself in the park, thinking of all the ways I could punch that big dumb ocean right in its stupid face. That’s when my phone lit up with the glorious news that Supreme Leader Trump had pulled out of that stupid Paris Climate Deal, and given America a second chance at living without oceans, and, more importantly, without fear.
We don’t need you, ocean. If I want water, I’ll get it from a lake, or a reservoir, or melt an ice cube. I don’t need you saltin’ up the joint with your brackish excuse for liquid. I don’t want to drink any water that’s been tainted by whales.
Don’t even get me started on those goddamn whales. You ever been whale-watching? Guess what, asshole? They’re watching you too. Waiting for you to let your guard down.
Of course, there will be critics. “Have you read the latest greenhouse gas report?”, the naysayers will say. “Have you read Moby-Dick, idiot?”, the president will hopefully say (feel free to use it, sir!).
“But seafood makes up over half of the world’s food supply!”, the fools will cry out. Which is exactly the problem. You don’t think the fish know that? How dumb are you?
President Trump, I wholeheartedly agree with your plan to deregulate carbon production and greenhouse gas restrictions. Because it means a world without sharks. A world without polar bears. A world with whatever the fuck that fish was from Finding Nemo with all the teeth and that weird lantern thing on its head. What is that thing even called? It doesn’t matter. It’ll be dead soon.
It’ll all be dead soon.