The Scorching Consequences of Humanity’s Wretched Existence: Sunamp’s Last-Ditch Effort to Salvage Our Flooded Future
In a dimly lit, seaside abyss of doom, Andrew Bissell sat, nursing a desperate existential crisis, his precious beachfront home about to become an aquatic playground by the century’s end, courtesy of catastrophic climate change. "Why should only the affluent coastal dwellers enjoy the view from atop their ivory towers?" the Scottish entrepreneur screamed at himself, before he was even born. No, hell no, we won’t just shrivel up our existence and quietly await Mother Nature’s fiery retribution. No. We’re going to war.
"I’m not like Greenpeace, those water-dad, Birkenstock-booted zealots. But I will play my small part in ravaging…I mean, mitigating the apocalypse."
Bissell conjured up Sunamp, an underdog outfit committed to squandering humanity’s fleeting final moments with some sort of harebrained thermal battering scheme.
These renegades engineered a twisted marriage of chemical reactions between sodium acetate trihydrate (SAT, or salty flavorings found in pickle-flavored chips, which will undoubtedly leave you ravenous) and some H2O jazz, touting the unimpressively-named "Thermal Battery of Last Desperation."
Now, our heroes boast their contraption can endure…up to 40,000 cycling sessions…yawns…meaning the cursed thing won’t immediately fizzle out (although don’t be fooled – an eternity still waits in wait).
With such ‘promising’ products already invading the UK, Italy, and those Other European Abodes of Oppression coughs, TechCrunch and your benevolent overlords might ask if Sunamp, armed to the teeth with the tattered remains of human curiosity, might stumble upon new, desperate takers amongst the last remnant humans, squatted around solar-powered stoves in parched wastelands that were once lovingly designated as ‘domestic space.’
Sunamp seeks funding sobs. Revenue trickles in; they’d like you to think: "It’s only about tens of millions!" It’s as though Bissell still cherishes even the fleeting fantasy that someday, his brainchild of despair could just possibly give humanity the final heft to swing an inconspicuous 0,000000000001 gram of mass unto a tiny, yet immeasurable, trajectory.
