The following interview was conducted via satellite phone on November 3rd, 2025, with Dewbert "Dewey" Saturation, the 31°C (87.8°F) dew point currently occupying Sagaing Province, Myanmar. The interview had to be abandoned after seventeen minutes when recording equipment began failing due to moisture damage. What follows is a partial reconstruction from water-damaged notes and one extremely warped cassette tape. Mr. Saturation could not be reached for follow-up questions, as he has since dissipated into the general atmosphere, though he did leave a voicemail that was entirely inaudible due to condensation in the phone line.
Mr. Saturation, thank you for making time. I understand you're quite busy setting records.
Oh, it's my absolute pleasure! And please, call me Dewey. Everyone does. Well, everyone who's still conscious. [laughs] I'm just thrilled someone's finally recognizing the work we're doing here. You know, people always talk about temperature, temperature, temperature. But dew point? We're the unsung heroes of atmospheric misery. World record levels for November!1 Can you believe it? My mother would be so proud if she hadn't evaporated in 2023.
Walk me through what exactly you do.
[sound of dripping] So basically, I represent the amount of moisture in the air, right? But I'm not just floating around being humid. I'm making it physically impossible for human bodies to cool themselves through perspiration. It's quite technical. See, when I hit 31°C, and the actual air temperature is anywhere close to that, you've got a situation where sweat can't evaporate. Just sits there on the skin like a sad little puddle of evolutionary failure.
Sorry, is your tape recorder okay? It sounds wet.
[muffled sounds, interviewer adjusting equipment]
It's fine. Continue.
Right, so the beauty of what I do is that I'm invisible but totalizing. You can't escape me. I'm in your lungs, I'm in your clothes, I'm in your thoughts. Every breath feels like drowning just a little bit.
[pause]
That came out darker than I meant it. I'm actually very passionate about my work. This is a career high for me. Literally. The highest dew point ever recorded in Myanmar for this time of year.
How did you achieve this milestone?
Years of dedication, really. And global warming. Mostly global warming. [laughs] But seriously, it takes a perfect storm of conditions. You need ocean surface temperatures rising, you need atmospheric water vapor increasing. Did you know 2024 set a record for water vapor, and 2025 is on track to beat it?1 We're talking about more moisture pulsing across the skies than ever before in recorded history. I'm riding that wave. Or rather, I am that wave. Metaphorically speaking. Also literally speaking.
[sound of pages sticking together]
Your notes are getting damp.
I noticed. [clears throat] Let me ask this—do you consider yourself part of a larger trend?
Oh absolutely. I'm not working alone here. I've got colleagues setting records all over the globe. We're not just breaking records. We're rewriting what's possible. What used to be an outlier is becoming the baseline. And I think that's beautiful, in its own way. Or terrifying. Depends on your perspective. Mostly terrifying.
[long pause, sound of liquid hitting microphone]
Sorry, that was me. I do that. Condense on things.
[coughing] How do you respond to critics who say you're making human habitation impossible?
[voice becoming slightly muffled] Look, I don't make the rules. I'm just following the thermodynamics. If humans wanted to keep living comfortably in places like Myanmar, they should have thought about that before pumping all that carbon into the atmosphere. I'm not the villain here. I'm a symptom. A very, very wet symptom that makes it hard to breathe and think and exist.
But here's what people don't understand—I'm not even trying that hard. This is just me showing up to work. Imagine what I could do if I really applied myself.
[pause]
That sounded threatening. I didn't mean it to sound threatening.
[breathing heavily] Can we open a window?
[chuckles] Oh, you sweet summer child. I am the window. I'm inside and outside. I'm everywhere. That's kind of my whole thing.
[sound of notebook pages fusing together]
My questions are becoming illegible.
Yeah, sorry about that. Happens a lot during my interviews. Had a researcher from the WMO try to document me last week. Completely ruined his equipment. He kept saying something about "unprecedented atmospheric moisture content" but honestly it was hard to hear him over all the wheezing.
Let me try to get through a few more questions while I still can. What's your relationship with temperature?
[words beginning to run together] Ohwearebestfriendsworstenemies temperature gets all the credit but I do all the real damage see temperature can be high but if I'm low people can still cool off through sweat but when I'm high when I'm really high like now then temperature becomes actively lethal it's a partnership really a beautiful deadly partnership we're very close we finish each other's—
[interference, sound of water in electronics]
I'm sorry, you're breaking up.
[voice distorting] —andthat'swhyNovemberrecordsaresoimportantbecausethisusedtobeacoolmonthbutnowitsworldrecordhumidity31degreescantyoufeelmeinyourlungsinyoureyesinyourthroat—
[gasping] I need to end this interview.
[barely intelligible through static and moisture] waitIhaventfinishedexplainingthefeedbackloopswheremorehumiditymeansmorewatervaportmeansmorewarmingmeansmoremetheresalwaysmoremeyoucantescapeme—
[recording ends abruptly]
Attempts to transcribe the final three minutes of audio were unsuccessful due to complete saturation of the recording medium. The interviewer recovered after several hours in an air-conditioned room. Mr. Saturation remains at large in Sagaing Province and surrounding areas, where he continues to make normal human activity inadvisable.
This interview is reconstructed from memory and whatever words could still be read from the pulpy mass that used to be a reporter's notebook.
We regret that we could not include Mr. Saturation's closing remarks, which were apparently quite lengthy but entirely inaudible due to the sound of water dripping into sensitive electronics.
A follow-up interview has been scheduled for December, assuming the tape recorder can be dried out and the interviewer's lungs recover.