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Random weirdness for the week of Feb. 9, 2016

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You might think you’re freezing your ass off, but in reality you’ll be getting a reminder of just how close we are to potentially becoming Death Valley (the actual desert, not our frozen plain that seems to be free of acorns). If none of that makes sense, then you’re all set to attend Svalbard’s version of a drive-in movie as “Ice Age: Continental Drift,” a 2012 animated comedy/adventure starring creatures such as mammoths and kangaroos, is screening on the snowfield across from Huset at 5 p.m. Tuesday. Alas, those of you of sufficient age hoping the flick offers an opportunity to make out in your vehicle with whomever you seduced on Valentine’s Day might find things a bit awkward since “drive-in” up here means snowmobiles, kicksleds, toboggans and skis. On the other hand, you might not need too much warming up: the weather forecast as of our deadline was for cloudy skies, light winds and temps of about -5C…

In other local battles of the animals, it seems something fishy is up with our birds. At least that’s the report from the Unquestionably Reliable ammoland.com (“the web’s leading Shooting Sports News Service  for the Ammunition, Firearms, Shooting, Hunting and Conservation communities”), which published an article this week titled “Audubon Goes Over the Climate Alarmist Edge.” Among the things the birdbrains are worrying about in a special “Arctic on the Edge” issue of their magazine are our  Black-legged Kittiwakes and how “warming in the Barents Sea attracts herring which feed on Kittiwake prey.” Of course, as the ammosexuals remind us, it’s occasionally been warmer than normal in Svalbard before and we’re all still here, so there’s nothing to worry about. Or something like that…

Finally, much as we love the polar night, it’s coming to an end as of next Tuesday in the usual freaky fashion. Meaning Longyearbyen will gain an average of an hour of sunlight during the first three days and we’ll have more than seven hours of daylight by the end of the month – but most of us won’t actually see the sun until March 8 or so thanks to the surrounding mountains.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
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