I want to take note of happy clowns like Jonah Goldberg.

The earth is flat,” he hollers from around his rubber nose. “And even if it’s not, what about the profits? For God’s sake, won’t somebody think of the profits???”

“Global warming will be fun!” he hollers. And spring-loaded snakes pop from his ears while he dances a merry profit jig.

I want take note of how much he hates and distrusts capitalism as a system. How he claims that if we were to take action which could keep all our major coastal cities from being drowned, the free markets of the world would react with abject surrender and refuse to develop any further. The poor fragile little free markets!

I want to take note, with hurricane season a month away, how he uses the poor as his clown hat. If we were to try to save Bangladesh from submerging beneath storms and oceans, the people who would end up suffering would be undeveloped countries. Like Bangladesh. And then Jonah Goldberg rides his little unicycle in a circle, honking his little horn.

These are my stages of Jonah Goldburg grief: My first reaction is to roll my eyes. My second reaction is to throw up. My third reaction is to pretend I didn’t have the misfortune of reading his goofy schtick. I want to pretend that there aren’t burlesque whores who gaze upon a drowned American city, see the inevitability of more to come, and then shrug and go back to their act.

But finally, rather than ignore them, I want to take note of these happy clowns and remember that the Earth was flat not so long ago.

I also want to think about those mysterious ice chunks falling out of a blue cloudless sky. Some scientists suggest they may be caused by the radically shifting global climate, which cools the upper atmosphere even as the surface heats up. I want to think of Jonah Goldberg hooting and honking about the “pleasant” effects of global warming… suddenly replaced by a huge block of ice crashing through the roof. I want to imagine the ice sitting there — almost comically — in the middle of the room, right where the happy clown used to be, half of a unicycle sticking out from underneath, and the wheel slowly turning to a stop.