Posts
Marcello Rollando chats with Nature Bats Last, Guy McPherson, PhD
Guy
is professor emeritus of conservation biology at the
University of Arizona and is the leading voice of abrupt climate
change. Because he receives no paycheck, his unswerving commitment to
compiling and presenting evidence is untarnished by money. If you
want the facts, no matter how dire, he is your source. He lives on
the homestead he created in rural, southern New Mexico upon leaving
active service at the university in 2009.
Book
Trailer:
For
More, Please Visit:
To
listen to podcast GO HERE
I have just discovered thorugh this inteview that Guy contributes to the Weekly Hubris regularly. Here is his latest.
A Letter to the Future (Best of WH)
By Guy McPherson
“If
you’re reading these words and comprehending their meaning, it’s
too late for my premier bit of advice: do not use written language.
It’s temptingly beautiful, like a flower with thorns or a venomous
invertebrate. But using language, like using thorns or venom, is a
short-term proposition. And death can result from a single contact
with any of the three.”
—Guy
McPherson, Going
Dark
Message,
preferably non-verbal, in a bottle.
1
September, 2017
“In
pushing other species to extinction, humanity is busy sawing off the
limb on which it is perched.”—Paul
Ehrlich
SAN
ANTONIO Belize—(Weekly Hubris)—First Published in February
2017—I have a few suggestions, if you’re interested. But first,
please accept an apology on behalf of my self-absorbed species. We
left a helluva mess. Sorry about that.
The
mess is so bad, I’m surprised you’re here. We left a small world
in our wake, populated with microbes, bacteria, fungi, and similar,
“simple” life forms.
You
must’ve brought what you need to survive. Maybe it’s several
million turns around the sun after the year we called 2018. Probably
you’re self-reliant and way late to our little
extinction party.
Earth’s
final civilization turned out great for a few people. Hot showers and
bacon were the highlights for many of us. In retrospect, destroying
our only home for a few bucks and a BLT wasn’t the swiftest plan we
could’ve developed. To the “credit” of our species, most people
were too ignorant and too stupid to evaluate evidence, so perhaps
only the small minority of us sounding the alarm are to blame.
Anyway,
back to that unsolicited advice. I have little to say and I’m
hardly a reliable source. After all, my species went extinct at a
young age. I predicted and documented our fall, but I didn’t
prevent it. Too late, I realized the untoward behavior of the
civilized members of my species could not be swayed by rational
thinking.
If
you’re reading these words and comprehending their meaning, it’s
too late for my premier bit of advice: do not use written language.
It’s temptingly beautiful, like a flower with thorns or a venomous
invertebrate. But using language, like using thorns or venom, is a
short-term proposition. And death can result from a single contact
with any of the three.
If
you come across anything flammable, run away. Somebody in your group
is bound to harness the fire, at least for a while. Shortly
thereafter, you’ll all discover fire cannot be harnessed for long.
This white-hot lesson will come after the exam.
Language
and fire are the two major forces leading to destruction of habitat.
Without them, you’ll last long. With them, you’ll soon be gone. I
suspect my warning is too late for either of the two.
Beyond
language and fire, recognize that there are a few other factors that
can contribute to your early demise. Civilization comes immediately
to mind and, as with language and fire, I suspect I’m too late.
Civilization is nearly as tempting as language and fire.
Civilization,
to be brief, means storing food. Once the food is stored, it’s easy
to keep from some people. So it’s locked up and ultimately assigned
monetary value. A few blinks of the eyes later, you’re all dead.
Contrary
to one of the overriding messages of civilization, there are
no others. If you contemplate idolizing, worshiping, insulting,
or attacking others, throw yourself into a volcano before the idea
catches on. The others you believe you see are, in fact, the various
forms of you. Treat them—and by them, I mean yourself—as you’d
treat yourself, not like you treat the pocket knife you borrowed from
your cousin. Treat them with dignity, respect, and love.
Remember
that everybody dies and that all species go extinct. See. Smell.
Taste. Listen. Touch. Breathe. Learn. You want more? Really? To what
end, beyond a quick and violent end?
Like
every living being, you have needs. Unlike many living beings, you
also have desires that you are able to recognize. Learn to
distinguish the needs from the wants and focus on securing the
former. If you don’t obsess about your desires, you’ll be
happier. And the beings that aren’t plagued with desires—the
reflections of yourself—will persist a while longer. So will you
and those you care about.
Care
more than you believe is possible. Wear your proverbial heart on your
proverbial sleeve. Let it get smashed. Love, and suffer as a result.
Trust me: it’s all worth it. The going up is worth the coming down.
The pain of living—really living, not merely making a living—is
occasionally rewarded by joy.
I
doubt you can find joy. If you’re lucky and
attentive, it might find you.
If
joy finds you, revel. Embrace the moment. Remember it. You might even
jot down a note. If ever you stumble across the opportunity to create
the conditions that brought you joy, seize the moment on behalf of
someone else. After all, that someone else is really another form of
you, longing for a moment of joy to relieve his or her suffering. If
you are given the rare privilege of creating joy for another, and you
don’t pursue it, please take advantage of that volcano mentioned
above.
Finally,
remember this: moments matter. They’re all you’ll ever have. They
are gifts of enormous magnitude. Be grateful. Make them count.
Thank you.
ReplyDelete