Scientists say that the warming is caused by humans' overproduction of greenhouse gases like carbon dioxide. And we've been so overindulgent that it looks like we can no longer reverse the process. I guess we're supposed to feel guilty. But let's not overlook the real culprit here: the sun. No sun, no global warming. Connect the dots.

Now comes news from NASA and the National Science Foundation that an upcoming spate of solar storms could spur widespread blackouts and cripple communications networks. By 2012, with the solar cycle at its peak, our friendly neighborhood star will be belching clouds of radiation and high-speed subatomic particles in our direction.

Enough is enough. Sure, the sun is the fundamental basis of our world. Without it, there would be no people, no life, no Earth, no solar system. But what has it done for us lately? All we get anymore are these vague threats to flood this and irradiate that.

Maybe the sun is starved for attention. We used to worship it all the time, but then other flaming orbs of superheated gas came along, like Dr. Phil, and we got distracted. It happens. So how does the sun react? By washing away our fun. Yeah, that's real mature.

You can't reward such petulance, which is why I'm proud that the United States has chosen to fight fire with expensive high-tech artillery. Defense Tech reports that the Pentagon's latest budget request includes $1 billion for space weapons, along with $1.7 billion for classified space-type projects (kept secret because they are dangerously awesome).

The budget request includes $220 million for what is termed a "Multiple Kill Vehicle." That may seem like a lot, but because we're guaranteed multiple kills, we only end up paying $110 million per kill, at most. That beats the going rate for space kills these days—check the Wall Street Journal classifieds if you don't believe me.

The question remains, though: who are we killing? Sure, there's space terrorists, but even they don't warrant a 10-figure defense expenditure. And Ewoks won't be a problem for decades.

There can be only one reason we're spending billions on space weaponry: the sun. Those pocket-protecting scientists say there's no solution to the sun's imminent smackdown, but they just don't know how to deal with a bully. The U.S. military does, and it will spend whatever it takes to show this thug who's boss.

Pretty tough talker now, aren't you, Sun? We'll see if you're still shooting your mouth off when we're ready to blow you up. Oh, what's that? You'll slow the rate of nuclear fusion in your core to compensate for the added greenhouse gases in our atmosphere? You'll distribute the flow of plasma across your corona more evenly to reduce the incidence of solar flares?

Yeah, that's what I thought you said. And hey, Alpha Centauri, don't get too cocky. We're coming for you next.

Congratulations to the Multiple-Kill Vehicle. You are the Sunblock of the Day.

That's why March is National Talk to Your Teen About Sex Month, a holiday designed to make sure that your kids don't make all the crazy mistakes we made as teenagers! Am I right, people? Yeah! Well, actually, I didn't have sex in high school. Not once. So, that friendly ribbing doesn't even apply to me. I'm pretty uncomfortable right now, to be frank. Let's—um, let's move on.

Since it can be hard to find the right words for that very special conversation, well-meaning family organizations Children Now have come up with some helpful talking points to ease the tension. Such as this not-creepy-at-all approach for a kid who's slow on the uptake:

Take the initiative

If your child hasn't started asking questions about sex, look for a good opportunity to bring it up. Say, for instance, the mother of an 8-year-old's best friend is pregnant. You can say, "Did you notice that David's mommy's tummy is getting bigger? That's because she's going to have a baby and she's carrying it inside her. Do you know how the baby got inside her?" then let the conversation move from there.

That's when you tell your little one about Manuel, the Andalucian gardener that David's mommy hired a few months ago. Manuel goes to David's mommy's house every afternoon—what a hard worker!

That kind of forthrightness may work for some, but what about parents who'd rather practice abstinence from awkward discussions? In the old days, you could keep your children in the dark, safe in the knowledge that on their wedding night, the Lord would guide their chaste souls to the location of the clitoris via holy epiphany.

Things don't work like that anymore in our libidinous culture. But that doesn't mean you have to be the one who brings the little brats up to speed. If you're just not ready to have "the chat," you shouldn't be pressured into it by anyone—not even a well-funded awareness campaign. So here are some techniques for parents that would rather not talk to their teens about sex.

Change the subject. This is an old standby that still works to squelch pubescent kids' curiosity. If your child is a boy, dazzle him with fascinating statistics about his favorite sports stars. For girls, remind them of the great sales going on right now at T. J. Maxx. If your child doesn't respond to traditional gender stereotypes, just fiddle silently with your power tools (dad) or stovetop (mom) until the moment passes.

Purchase some reading material. There are many excellent self-help publications that teach parents how to approach this subject matter with their kids—books like How to Talk to Your Child About Sex and What's the Big Secret?: Talking About Sex with Girls and Boys. Buy a few of these guides and leave them in your children's bedrooms. After perusing the books, the kids will be able to imagine how a more caring parent would educate them about the birds and the bees. Bonus: you're encouraging them to read!

Let technology do the work. When you think about it, your limited sexual experience can't compare to the collective wisdom of the internet. Your kids should learn from the most authoritative source, right? So give them a private area and a computer with a high-speed connection. If you're brave, you might even nudge them in the right direction. For instance, it's National Talk to Your Teen About Sex Month, so why not suggest they Google for educational material about "teens" and "sex"?

Because they probably haven't tried that already.

Congratulations to National Talk to Your Teen About Sex Month. You are the Month of the Day.

And a nation watches, spellbound.

Americans' familiarity with probate law is at an all-time high on this day because "Vickie L. Marshall" is better known as Anna Nicole Smith, former Playboy playmate and reality TV star. Anna Nicole wants to share in the estate of her late husband, Texas oil tycoon J. Howard Marshall II, but Marshall inconveniently neglected to include her in his will. The Marshall family argued to the Supremes that the will settles the matter, but Smith begged to differ, causing David Souter to go all Judge Joe Brown on her:

"'I just want some money from this guy.' That's all she's saying," Justice David Souter said. "Just give me the money I would have had."

Fun stuff, right? Yet we're learning at the same time. See, an educated public is the foundation of a democracy. What the Supreme Court has discovered is that now, more than ever, strippers are the foundation of an educated public. Just add a little T&A, and suddenly the details of a dry procedural matter are fascinating millions of readers on page 3 of the Post!

The legislative and executive branches have yet to catch on, but soon they, too, will be using strippers to get citizens more involved in government. Those defense appropriation bills are so tedious—why not tack on a rider regulating the interstate sale of nipple tassels? Then we'll sit up and take notice. And Mr. President, we don't care how your new tax package would benefit a "typical family of four." Tell us how it would benefit Sunny Lane down at The Panty Pantry!

I can say with certainty that the Founding Fathers would approve of education-by-stripper because it employs Madison-esque checks and balances. The driving force of this method is Titillation. Titillation is what leads CNN to report on a lawsuit brought by a gold-digging starlet who used to take her clothes off for money.

Keeping Titillation in check, however, is its little brother, Shame. Shame forces CNN to lend its coverage the sheen of credibility by paying lip service to the details of the case and reporting the implications, however mundane, for the country. Thus we are edified.

But therein lies the one flaw in this system: it relies on the shame of the national media. If the morality of our newsmen became bankrupt, it's possible that we could witness reportage conducted only on the basis of testosterone. For such a thing to come to pass, of course, we would have to imagine TV reporters without dignity and news directors without principle—ludicrous thoughts, indeed!

So let us dream of the day when Jenny McCarthy rules C-SPAN, when Elizabeth Berkeley chairs blue-ribbon commissions, and when we drink: to strippers! To democracy!

Congratulations to strippers. You are the Educational Tool of the Day.

American officials can get on board with the "United," but they're having more trouble with the "Arab." As a result, the Bush administration is under pressure to revoke the leases of the UAE company, Dubai Ports World. The White House claims to have performed a thorough background check on Dubai Ports, but a weary nation has learned that this means nothing more than a firm-handshake test and a "look into their heart."

Lost in the shuffle is even more disturbing news: an American company has announced plans to build a port of its own in the United Arab Emirates—a spaceport. Forget the sea; Space Adventures Ltd. is providing an entryway to the vast expanses of our galaxy, and they're putting it right in the terrorists' wheelhouse!

My lifelong Star Trek: The Next Generation fandom has taught me the sort of chicanery that can go on in the final frontier, and earthbound bureaucrats ignore the dangers at their own peril. Or do they want to risk being trapped in a malfunction-prone holodeck stuck on a Dickens-era London program? Being thrust into an infinite temporal causality loop? Being pitted against a Romulan warbird?

The fact is that we have enemies who want to use Ferengi wormhole-fabrication processes to send our nation deep into the Delta Quadrant. Whether the enemies are capable of such a feat is up for debate—the fact that they want to should be enough to take action. America, make it so.

Congratulations to space terrorists. You are the Threat of the Day.

Coming hot on the heels of the Super Bowl (known to gaming experts as the "Super Bowl" of gambling), the Winter Olympics sustain America's need to amplify the excitement of mundane sporting events by wagering on them. We'll put money down on anything—even crazy made-up sports (except hockey)—to chase Olympic dreams of doubling our paychecks.

It's all good fun, but before you check out the over/under on Wednesday's women's curling match, I offer a cautionary tale. A gentlemanly pursuit like sports gambling may seem harmless, but it turns out there are downsides. Even if you wager perfectly, as I have, the idiot athletes can still piss all over your best-laid plans. To wit:

Bode Miller. The reckless American skier was a favorite to win the men's alpine combined event, especially after building a substantial lead in the first stage of the competition. In honor of Miller's endorsement deal, I maxed my Visa card in support of Bode's inevitable ascent to the gold-medal podium. Then the good-for-nothing sonofabitch straddled a gate during a slalon run and was disqualified. The U.S. team did not protest the call—"If it's clear, it's clear," Miller said. I'll try to emulate Miller's trademark nonchalance this weekend when I'm selling my body on Craigslist.

Zhang Dan & Zhang Hao. This Chinese figure-skating pair hit the ice Monday night with a chance to steal gold from the Russian team that held the lead. Seconds into their routine, Zhang Dan landed awkwardly from an attempted quad salchow and suffered what appeared to be a debilitating leg injury. However, the Chinese collected themselves and finished the routine, earning a silver medal. It was a tearful moment for millions of spectators, including me, because I came this close to collecting on a China-Russia-China trifecta until these clumsy Reds fouled it up.

Anne "Grandma Luge" Abernathy. The 52-year-old Abernathy was planning to compete in her record sixth Olympic luge competition this year, sledding for the Virgin Islands team. This being the year for sentimental favorites, I took 40:1 odds that Grandma Luge would medal. If she wrote the fitting end to her heartwarming tale, I would be on Easy Street for years. But Abernathy bowed out after breaking her wrist, and my bookie assures me that I will end the week with broken limbs, as well.

The good news: U.S. alternate Emily Hughes is a lock to beat the spread in women's figure skating. I'm sure of it.

Congratulations to Olympic athletes. You are the Unsure Bets of the Day.