For the globalist left-elite, President Trump backing away from the Paris Climate Accord can only be compared to pulling the plug on the great atmosphere machine created by the mysterious Orovars on Edgar Rice Burroughs's fictional planet Barsoom.  We are all going to strangle, suffocate, and die.  Or maybe get asthma, as the Einstein-like Joe Biden apparently believes, even though he knows – indeed, as everybody knows – that all the "Accord" actually does is send U.S. money to the U.N., who then sends it to the Third World so that that corrupt elite can steal it and build more villas on the Riviera.

But it's not the suffocating paranoia that gets me about these people; it's the sea rising thing.  So I watched avidly as Philip Levine, global warming alarmist and mayor of Miami Beach, reacted last week on Tucker.  Now that Trump has acted, cities are going to drown; children are going to drown; and after he bites the drowning mailman one last time, your dog is going to drown, too.

These United States have been around for only a little over two hundred years, and the seas have been rising for ten thousand, maybe longer.  Indeed, you can hockey-stick phony temperature data from now to when it snows a blizzard in Miami Beach and "settle" whatever science you want, but the fact that the sea is rising has little or nothing to do with modern man.

How do I know this?  I'm not an archeologist or an oceanographer, and any specialized knowledge I have of wild water is confined to certain out-of-the-way pools and riffles where I can hook a trout before the sun is fully up.  But I'm in love and have always been with epic voyages.  I cut my teeth on Count von Luckner's adventures at sea as a runaway.  And to my juvenile and easily excited imagination, the Kon-Tiki expedition remains the gold standard of adventures.  Recently, I've also begun to follow the Vikings as they sought a "Land Beyond Kings" and settled the Orkneys, Iceland, and Greenland.

What really caught my attention in the last decade is a theory every bit as thrilling in its breadth as Thor Heyerdahl's Kon-Tiki.  It's called Across Atlantic Ice, an amazing body of research published by archaeologists Dennis J. Stanford and Bruce A. Bradley in 2012.  Stanford and Bradley seem to establish that fact that North America's Clovis stone spear point (first discovered near Clovis, New Mexico and thought to be the device with which man exterminated the Mammoths) is the work of the Solutrean people, who occupied the coast of France and Spain more than 20,000 years ago.  They support this theory with reference to other finds on the route to New Mexico and more than you want to know about the manufacture, design, and origin of stone tools. 

The point is that 20,000 to 12,000 years ago, these people crossed the Atlantic, which was eminently doable in skin boats by hunting and fishing and taking refuge from storms along the southern perimeter of the vast ice shield which then extended across the Atlantic Ocean as far south as North Carolina.  And once they were ashore, these tough little Solutreans began fabricating more of their characteristic weapons from local materials and leaving the sea behind them set out to subjugate a hemisphere. 

Why hasn't this theory been advanced before?  Because we've never been able to compare the Clovis stone tool culture to the Solutrean.  And the reason for that is that in all the time that has passed, the polar ice has been melting, and that culture tended to build its settlements at the mouths of rivers.  The remains of those settlements in Europe are almost all now underwater.  Sometimes miles and miles out on the seafloor.

We've had hints of that happening, because men dragging fishing nets have occasionally picked up stone tools, arrow and spear points, far out of sight of land. 

So not burning coal won't help.  Neither will generating every kilowatt of electricity from with wind turbines, or Trump making kissy-kissy with Macron and Merkel and May.  Because the sea has been rising for ten thousand years with or without all that and all of them.  Just ask the Solutreans.

Meanwhile, if you have children in the house with the occasional far off look of adventure in their eyes, get a copy of Across Atlantic Ice.  But don't ask them to read it.  Just leave it out, and if you ever see them fingering it, dare them.  "That's a great book, Jules, but you have to be really smart to read it.  Maybe you're better off going into politics."

Richard F. Miniter lives and writes in the Colonial-era hamlet of Stone Ridge, New York and may be reached at miniterhome@gmail.com.  The acclaimed author of The Things I Want Most, Random House, BDD, his most recent book, What Sort Of Parents Should We Be?: A Man's Guide To Raising Exceptional Children, is now available here.