|Posted on Monday, February 23, 2004 - 10:58 am: |
|Posted on Monday, February 23, 2004 - 11:10 am: |
Now here's Marshall, who's backing the massive boondoggle of missile defense, putting forward a Heston-esque eco-disaster scenario that happens heavily to feature the nuclear threat.
I can see Yoda now, squatting balefully in his swivelling leather chair, poking his head out from the terrapin shell of his suit. He turns to his associates with that I'm-too-old-for-facial-expressions look, and begins to speak in a voice like stone grating on stone:
"Jerry I've been thinking we're handling this greenhouse thing all wrong. If we could swing that around and make a control image out of it, we could shut the whale-savers up and get the fear back all in the one combo."
So we all end up cowering in slipshod Haliburton bunkers eating krill patties and thanking God for the long-sighted government that tax farmed us to keep us safe from Bombay bombs and angry Mexicans looking to grab our precious corn stores.
On the other hand, this story is so full of backfire potential it makes you wonder. The logical response, unless they really sell everyone on the idea that stopping climate change before it reaches the point of no return is no longer possible, would be to cut back on pollutants etc etc.
One of the real problems on the road ahead is India. They are sitting on the richest coal reserves on earth, and are rapidly reaching a level of industrialization at which they will begin burning it in earnest. Ask most of the world's leaders about this and other impending disasters and they'll shrug at you and say, with Ned Flanders' beatnik mother, "We don't know what to do! We've tried nothing and we're all out of ideas."
|Posted on Monday, February 23, 2004 - 11:14 am: |
Well, if it's true, at least ole W won't over-react and start bombing the shit out of the arctic, right?
|Posted on Monday, February 23, 2004 - 01:31 pm: |
Powell Condy Cheney and Rummy, all bewigged and in small clothes, are idling away the afternoon at a rubber of whist. W, sporting only a cougar-skin pelt knotted about his rubbery waist a la Hercules, ambles vacantly through the apartment not unlike Madeline Usher.
"You know," he muses to no one in particular, "I'll bet a nuculer winter would - what's that word? - reverse, would reverse global ... the world getting hotter. And money should be food."
"That's the most exciting idea I've heard all year, Souffi!" Rummy bellows. He snatches at a platinum plated telephone housed in the head of a living Javanese child and begins tapping in numbers wildly.
(Souffi - some Texan politico came up with this nickname for W, the "Texan Souffle" - looks good on the outside and inside nothing but hot air.)
|Posted on Monday, February 23, 2004 - 06:02 pm: |
Michael, your wit and imagination continue to astound me.