Word: Calescent

calescent

[kuh-les-uh nt]

adjective

1. growing warm; increasing in heat.

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              Jack lay face up, sprawled across an ottoman.  His friend, Walt, lay on the floor nearby, splayed out on the wood floor.  Neither boy was in a comfortable position, but moving would have taken too much energy.  Jack voiced his displeasure by releasing a long, drawn out groan.

               “Why.” He said.  The word was said with a croaking voice, and was as drawn out as his previous groan.  “Why is it so hot?”

               “I dunno.” Walt said, although the words ran together until they were nearly indistinguishable from each other.  He looked at the large digital thermometer that hung just outside the glass door.  It read 95 degrees.  “Global warming?”

               Jack thought about that.  Or at least, he tried to.  He swore the heat would fry his brain if he thought too hard.  “Yeah, sounds about right.” He concluded.  The thermometer ticked up to 96.

               Even though they both wore nothing but the lightest, thinnest swimsuits they could find, they oozed sweat from every part of their body.  Being inside offered no protection either, as Jack’s parents stubbornly refused to get AC.  They claimed it was too expensive.  Jack had insisted the hospital bill for heat stroke would be worse, but the argument fell of deaf ears.  And so they suffered.

               Another increase, up to 97. 

               “Should we do something?” Walt asked.  He clung to the floor as if the wood would somehow cool him off.  It had worked, at first, but his own body heat had rendered it ineffective for long.  Still, he longed to seep deeper into the material, as it was still slightly cooler than the air. 

               “Eh, that sounds like a lot of work.” Jack replied. 

               “Yeah, I guess so.” Walt mumbled, not being able to muster the energy to speak any louder than the bare minimum. 

               Neither of them said anything else.  They simply watched the thermometer as it displayed 98. 

               “You want some ice cream or something?” Jack asked.

               The thought was tempting.  Something cold would be nice.  There was just one problem.  “You gonna get it?”

               Jack was silent.  “Maybe not.”

               Up to 99.

               “Maybe your mom’ll get some?”

               “She’s doing stuff outside.”

               “Why?”

               “I dunno.”  Nor did he want to think about it.  Thinking was too much effort.  Silence reigned for almost a minute.  The thermometer finally broke 100.

               “Your mom’s dumb, I think.” Walt said.  Jack knew he should be offended, angry, or some combination of the two.  But he just could not care.

               “How come?”

               “She’s doing stuff outside today.  Nobody smart would do that unless they had to.  Plus, no AC and stuff.”

               “Oh yeah.  Right.” There was no energy to argue.  Everything he had was going into not overheating.  As the thermometer hit 101, he knew it was a losing battle.

               The door opened and someone entered the room.  Jack’s mom walked in, drenched with sweat and skin red from the sun and heat.  She cast her eyes from one boy to the other.

               “Are you boys going to lay there all day?” She asked.

               “Yup.”

               “Uh huh.”

               “Well, that’s a shame.  Because I was going to take you to the pool, seeing as you’re already dressed for it, but if you’d rather sit there, then by all means.”

               Suddenly, the boys found a reserve of energy even they did not know they had.  They even forgot about the thermometer that had just hit 102.

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It's pretty hot out there.  Remember to do your best to keep cool.  But don't stay inside all day.  It's just as unhealthy as spending all your time outside.  And yes, that can be dangerous.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Word: Improbity

  

improbity

[im-proh-bi-tee]

noun

1. lack of honesty or moral scruples.
2. perseverance.

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            “What in the world are you doing?” Dr. Tremlin cried.  She stared wide eyed at the scene before her.

               Her colleague, Dr. Miller, was holding a clipboard, standing over a table.  His gloves and coat were stained red, but he did not seem to care.  On a lab table in front of him was a cage, and in the cage was a cat that was bleeding out of every orifice.  It lay, shivering in its cage.  Its ears twitched weakly at the sound of her voice, but it otherwise did not move.

               “What does it look like?” Dr. Miller replied as he quickly wrote something on his clipboard.  “I’m conducting an experiment.”

               “An experiment?  It looks more like you’re torturing that cat.”

               “Oh no, of course not.  I would never do that.  Torture is baseless cruelty.  This is for the betterment of science.”

               Dr. Tremlin worked her jaw in horror.  She had always known the man had a few issues, and he was almost religiously devoted to the progression of science, but she never would have thought he would go so far.

               “What kind of advancement forces you to do…that to a cat?”

               “The testing of various neurological stimuli and the resulting physical effects.”

               “What?”

               “I stimulate the animal’s brain and see what physical effects take place.”

               “And that just happens to result in the cat bleeding to death slowly and painfully?”

               “In this case yes.”

               “That…that’s horrible.  You can’t do this.”

               “Why not?  We use mice all the time.”

               “We don’t torture them.  We don’t do things to them that make them bleed out of their eyes.”

               “Yes, well, some sacrifices must be made.”

               Dr. Tremlin was having difficulty standing still.  Her heart was racing and her fists were clenched so tight her nails threatened to break the skin. 

               “Not like this.  This isn’t science anymore.  This is just cruelty.”

               “You think so?  Why?  The only difference between this and a mouse is that a cat is typically treated as a pet.  They are perfect for this experiment.  Very common and easily obtained, and with enough mental complexity to produce measurable effects.  Mice simply don’t have the mental complexity to perform this experiment, and so, a cat must be used.”

               “No.  No, you can’t do this.  It’s inhumane.”

               “Would you say that if it was a mouse?”

               “Yes!  Yes I would.”

               “I see.  So you have a problem conducting this experiment on animals then?  Very well, for the sake of our continued association, I shall advance my time table.  I was not planning on starting human trials yet, but we are the best materials to use for this.”

               Dr. Tremlin felt all the heat from her body drain away.  She was frozen in place, unable to move as Dr. Miller made his way through the lab towards the large supply closet.  He opened the door, and an old, filthy man dressed in tattered clothes spilled out.

               “Please.  Please let me go.” The man said.  His voice was thin and hollow, like his throat had been scraped thin.

               “Don’t worry, sir, this is for science.”

               “No!” Dr. Tremlin said, finally finding her voice.  “You can’t!  I won’t let you go any further.”

               She pulled out her cell phone and immediately called the police while making her way towards the emergency alert button built into the lab’s wall.  Before she got far though, she felt a sharp prick on the back of her neck.  Her vision swam and her legs seemed to loose all strength.

               “I am sorry, doctor.” Mr. Miller said.  She heard his voice and footsteps.  She idly wondered how he had drugged her from across the room.  Then her thoughts drifted to other, more important questions.  “I do enjoy working with you.  You are a very capable, intelligent woman.  It pains me to do this, but I cannot let you stop my experiments.  But, if it is any conciliation, everything that happens to you is all for the benefit of science.”   

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How do you know that a person is really evil?  They do bad stuff to kittens, puppies, and babies, that's how.  I suppose murdering a large number of people might also be a bit of a tip off, but the hurting of cute things is the real clincher.

Word: Blinkered

blinkered

[bling-kerd]

adjective

1. narrow-minded and subjective; unwilling to understand another viewpoint.
2. having blinkers on; fitted with blinkers.

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               “Hang on, there’s something I’ve got to do.” Chris said.  His girlfriend, Sally saw what he was looking at and let out a quiet groan.

               “You know it’s pointless, right?” She asked.

               “I know, but it’s still fun to see them squirm.”

               “Just…just make it quick, okay?”

               Chris laughed wickedly and hurried off towards his target.  A middle aged man wearing eye catching clothes and holding a large, anti-gay sign, telling the world about how Jesus hated gay people in a very unpleasant way.

               “Hey.” Chris said with a large smile on his face.  The man turned his head to face the newcomer.  “So, uh, you hate gay people, right?”

               “Gays are a blight on this world.” The man said.  His voice was a New England accent, but carried an odd Southern aspect as well, like he came from both the north and south simultaneously.  “Anyone who supports them will burn in Hell.”

               “I see, I see.  And you’re a Christian, I take it?”

               “I am dedicated to the word of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ, yes.”

               “Excellent, wonderful, yes.  So, how’s being a huge hypocrite working out for you?”

               The man’s face scrunched up in confusion.  “What?”

               “Well, it’s just that you’re such a huge hypocrite that it must do wonders for your lifestyle.”

               “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

               “Oh, you know, saying you’re a dedicated Christian while going against it’s core principles and all.”

               “I would never go against the words of the Lord!”

               This was Chris’ favorite part.  He stifled a laugh at what he knew was coming.  He could not wait to see how this man would react.

               “Of course not.  So, you must really like cherries, right?”

               “What?  What do cherries have to do with anything?”

               “Well, you pick them so often that you must love them.”

               “What makes you think I’ve ever picked a cherry in my life?”

               “Sure you have.  If you think you’re a good Christian, you have to practice cherry picking on a nearly daily basis.”

               The man had just caught on.  He sputtered incoherently for a moment.  Chris was thrilled.  This was a good one.  He was going to have a lot of fun with this guy.  “How…how dare you!” The man cried.

               “Hey, I just calls it likes I sees it.  I mean, come on, do you even know what Christianity is all about?”

               “Of course I do.  It’s about accepting the Lord Jesus into your heart and following his word.”

               “And what is his word?”

               “What?”
               “Jesus.  What kind of things did he say?”

               “Well, for one thing, he said gays are the spawn of Satan.”

               “Really?  What section was that?  Because I’m pretty sure Jesus had nothing to do with gay people.”

               “Oh he did.  If you knew the Bible, you’d know that.”

               “You sure about that?  Because I’ve read the Bible.  Multiple times, actually.  How about you?  Have you ever read it?”

               The man looked hesitant for a moment.  “I…I don’t need to read it.  I know it.”

               “What does that even mean?”

               “It means I know it well enough that I don’t need to read it to understand it.”

               Chris had to force himself from laughing.  “You sure?  Because I’m pretty sure Jesus said a lot of things about getting along with other people.  You know, not judging people, forgiving others, and just being all around nice to other people, no matter what.  You know, things like that.”

               The man’s tongue worked around his words.  “You…you…you don’t understand Christ at all!” He roared.  “Christ, our Lord would never accept gays!  They go against everything He has taught us!”

               “Because it says it in the Bible?”

               “Exactly!”
               “You want to know what else the Bible says?  It says slavery is perfectly fine.  It also says that it’s okay to stone people, that shellfish is bad, and that women should completely cover themselves.  Sounds pretty good, huh?”

               “You…you…you’re going to burn for all eternity in the fiery pits of Hell!  There’s a special punishment out there for people like you!  Those who disrespect the word of God and His son will be punished by the worst that both God and Satan can inflict upon your immortal soul!”

               “Yeah, well, can’t be any worse than what you’ll get for going against everything you say you do.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend is waiting for me, so have a nice day.”

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I have the distinct honor of never having met a person like this.  And for that, I am very happy.  I imagine people like this are...frustrating.