Sometimes, while I’m sitting alone contemplating the eternal abyss that is life’s inevitable end, I wonder about the meaning of it all. Why do we chase after things like money, power, and sustainability, especially when, in the grand scheme, we’re all just headed towards the same lonely finish line?
Such existential dread led me to ponder upon Climateville (formerly known as a small, unremarkable part of Nevada). Oh, how the tide has turned with the federal government’s newfound love for tossing cash into the fight against climate change like an overzealous gambler at a Vegas slot machine. Climateville’s very own Brian Bamboozle, the ‘sustainability manager’ — a fancy title for chief beggar of federal funds — has been witnessing what can only be described as a monetary monsoon.
Just 15 months into his royal reign of begging, Climateville is soaking up dollars from a $156 million statewide grant for things like solar panels for those who can't normally afford to spell ‘solar’. They’re even mapping out the hottest neighborhoods, which has to be the easiest job ever given it’s Nevada (hint: it’s all hot).
“Following money trails is better than chasing waterfalls,” Bamboozle reportedly said, dodging puddles of cash. “This is a great time to pretend like we’re saving the world while actually drowning in dollars.”
What’s on the grand dazzling menu of funded fantasies? Tree planting parties, deluxe air filters for the bourgeois bees, and my personal favorite, grants for grants about getting more grants.
As the Biden administration showers billions across the America, I can't help but get a little misty-eyed. After all, thinking about the futility of existence is way less fun than watching dollar bills being used as confetti.
In times of cosmic void, it often feels soothing to reflect on such mindless government generosity, knowing well that all this plays out in a meaningless theatre of the absurd watched by the indifferent stars above.
Speaking of stars, wouldn’t it be hilarious if the last thing I did was throw my own lavish, federally-funded farewell bash? At least I’d find out if you can indeed take it with you. Spoiler: you can't, and like me, you’ll probably die alone — preferably buried under a pile of grant applications.
Based on the original article "This City Is Tapping a Climate Cash Bonanza While It Can".
