Response to Kwinglish Intro

So, with the assistance of the Online Etymology Dictionary (OED), I’m pondering the origins of “hot,” as the term has come to be popularly used here in . . . um, how should we herald ourselves now that New Zealand has won our former moniker? “Used to Be God’s Country Before the Advent of Strip Malls”?
Whatever (another potential post), etymologically speaking, “hot” indicates a degree of warmth, both above and below the collar. One can be both hot in anger (Old English, so I take that to mean Beowulf and Grendel hot) or sex appeal (1500—Wife of Bath hot, give or take a couple of centuries). And when one skips ahead a few more epochs, you have the Hollywood merging of the two, as in leading men telling red-headed sirens, “You know, doll, you’re beautiful when you’re angry.” That one could make a girl hot (as in “Get your own mug of mead” hot), unless it was a young Clint Eastwood doing the talking, in which case, she might just giggle, due to being Wife of Bath hot. Now, the next big thing kind of hot (1889) would surely be the song I know we all hope Marcie will write about bottled estrogen (hot menopausal kind of associations showing up around 1887). But in keeping with our class instructions to connect our linguistic musings to the language of storytelling, I will highlight a hot usage near and dear to my own creative endeavors by admitting that at times when developing my story material, I wonder, “Am I hot yet? (1640s), followed by Zippy’s own “Are we having fun yet? So let’s say, if Jonesborough is story hot, I sometimes feel like I’m hovering somewhere over the South Pole. So cold, it burns.