Well ..this cheery thread aims us towards --> Brass Tacks then, dunnit?
Here and abroad the Master- racists shall covet every mass burial of POC, of course.
When the food- [and WATER] fights become dire, well no one can predict Mob-actions any more than describing the trajectory of an air molecule via Brownian-movement stats. Ergo when all semblance of Local/“State” … any: effective governance dies, combining to produce First-degree chaos: all transport [FOOD] is Mad-Max thence or earlier. No More “type a few things" and get your bottle of Tincture/Iodine from Big River ..nor even some freeze-dried K-rations. If the electrical grid succumbs early-on (via fights, absentee switch-gear operators and ..sabotage?) … a few solar-independent folk may have their appurtenances a little while longer. If they have a well, are far from the madding crowds? well There’s your reprise Earth Abides scenario. In small pockets.
tl;dr METHANE! ..the warming of PERMAFROST, now happening … guarantees that the tipping-points shall fall all akimbo. But isn’t the largest-Force agains remedial measures: the evident fact that masses of folks would die before surrendering the tiniest of modern techno-comforts? ... those (once SST!) flights to go elsewhere:
to re-discover {but Here I Am again! still “living that *life of quiet desperation"/un-Healed}.
* sorry to hear that Thurber wasn’t the originator of the phrase, but he certainly grabbed the Visual for that thought.
ie My guess is: that homo-sap hasn’t the Moxie to voluntarily cease er, The Capitalism-which-demands Waste (of energy/resources ) in order to keep the Collection of Stuff the #1 means of demonstrating one’s Status ..while fueling coffers of a tiny band of hoarders of exactly-Obscene amounts of digits on bank balances: THE Status Symbol above all else. Innit?
So then, however impossible anatomically: we shall have Fucked-Selves ..AND the quadrillions of the surrounding beasts, ever taken for granted as unimportant adjuncts for our dining table, trophy room or just our mindless amusement.
(Hey! ‘they’ tried to tell us about The Maya … but the mere thought of THAT was too scary even to guess about, so most-all punted.)
moi hopes to enjoy the spectacles on this warped horizon if I can ..just stick to the koan, What? Me Worry?? :-)
See y'all at the barricades, maybe … but only if they’re neither balsa-wood nor ‘manned’ by the usual Wretches-in-Chief, traditionally feckless. :-{
When the food- [and WATER] fights become dire, well no one can predict Mob-actions any more than describing the trajectory of an air molecule via Brownian-movement stats. Ergo when all semblance of Local/“State” … any: effective governance dies, combining to produce First-degree chaos: all transport [FOOD] is Mad-Max thence or earlier. No More “type a few things" and get your bottle of Tincture/Iodine from Big River ..nor even some freeze-dried K-rations. If the electrical grid succumbs early-on (via fights, absentee switch-gear operators and ..sabotage?) … a few solar-independent folk may have their appurtenances a little while longer. If they have a well, are far from the madding crowds? well There’s your reprise Earth Abides scenario. In small pockets.
tl;dr METHANE! ..the warming of PERMAFROST, now happening … guarantees that the tipping-points shall fall all akimbo. But isn’t the largest-Force agains remedial measures: the evident fact that masses of folks would die before surrendering the tiniest of modern techno-comforts? ... those (once SST!) flights to go elsewhere:
to re-discover {but Here I Am again! still “living that *life of quiet desperation"/un-Healed}.
* sorry to hear that Thurber wasn’t the originator of the phrase, but he certainly grabbed the Visual for that thought.
ie My guess is: that homo-sap hasn’t the Moxie to voluntarily cease er, The Capitalism-which-demands Waste (of energy/resources ) in order to keep the Collection of Stuff the #1 means of demonstrating one’s Status ..while fueling coffers of a tiny band of hoarders of exactly-Obscene amounts of digits on bank balances: THE Status Symbol above all else. Innit?
So then, however impossible anatomically: we shall have Fucked-Selves ..AND the quadrillions of the surrounding beasts, ever taken for granted as unimportant adjuncts for our dining table, trophy room or just our mindless amusement.
(Hey! ‘they’ tried to tell us about The Maya … but the mere thought of THAT was too scary even to guess about, so most-all punted.)
moi hopes to enjoy the spectacles on this warped horizon if I can ..just stick to the koan, What? Me Worry?? :-)
See y'all at the barricades, maybe … but only if they’re neither balsa-wood nor ‘manned’ by the usual Wretches-in-Chief, traditionally feckless. :-{