In a remarkable display of optimism, climate activists gathered this week at the annual Carbon Clock Rally, an event celebrated for its dedication to raising awareness about the ticking time bomb that is climate change. Armed with handcrafted signs made from recycled PVC and a hearty spirit of futility, participants echoed the wearisome call: “The planet is burning, but at least we’re trending!” Waving banners emblazoned with slogans like “Save Our Planet – There's No Planet B, Just a C and D!” and “If the Climate Was a Horse, We’d Be Donating it to the Glue Factory,” the activists marched at a pace that approximately matched the current rate of policy change on climate action - slow enough to make sloths look hyperactive. Their chants of “No more coal, no more oil – just let my carbon-neutral dreams boil!” filled the air, invigorated by the unmistakable scent of hopeful irony. Participants donned eco-friendly attire, sporting thrift-store pullovers and hand-knitted hats made from organic hemp—a material so exclusive that it practically screams “I’m a socio-political statement, but I still can’t afford rent.” Many attendees were spotted carrying reusable water bottles that boasted the slogan “We did it for the oceans,” while sipping from organic, fair-trade almond milk lattes that cost almost as much as a monthly subscription to a 24-hour sustainable living podcast. A highlight of the event was an impromptu speech delivered by renowned environmentalist Greta Thunberg’s distant cousin, who, while primarily known for their collection of vegan recipes, expressed their thoughts on the climate crisis. “It’s a dire situation.” they stated earnestly. “But have we considered the logistical challenges of actually changing anything? I mean, we can’t just wave our activist wands and make the oil companies disappear. Well, we could try, but I don’t donate to just any cause without a solid, actionable plan... and preferably a gluten-free option.” The mockery didn’t stop there; in a delightful twist of irony, a local politician—a steadfast advocate for more tax breaks for fossil fuel companies—stopped by to take selfies with rally-goers. “You’re all doing great work,” he said through a smile that could launch a thousand diesel trucks into the stratosphere. “Keep up the good fight, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider showing up at your next rally. If I don’t have a fundraiser that day, of course.” As the evening wore on, the rally concluded with a touching candlelight vigil for the “Lost Causes of Climate Action.” Representatives for coal and oil companies made a special appearance, lighting candles in remembrance of their financial contributions to politics. “For every dollar we donate,” boasted the spokesperson for Big Oil, “we extinguish a hundred dreams of a cleaner tomorrow!” The activists retreated from the rally not only exhausted but also quietly optimistic—defeated yet strangely invigorated. In a final rallying cry, the crowd chanted, “We’ll be back next year!” in a grim acknowledgment that if nothing changes, at least their signs could use another season of repurposing. As night fell and the sounds of chanting faded into the distance, the Carbon Clock continued to tick—drowning out the sound of progress and any hope that maybe one day, words would finally turn into action, but hey, at least it made for great social media fodder.