12:20pm:
I arrive at the New York Public Library in all its cavernous, intimidating glory and proceed to look for the reference room, aka "the room with all the answers". Not too surprisingly, that room has a line snaking out of it thirty people long and when I approach the counter in an attempt to ask if this is the "right" line, the Man at the Desk, the Master of the Line waves me back as if I were a gate crasher jumping the ropes at a celebrity wedding.
"You see the end of that line?" he asks me. "Yes, but..." "That's where you go." I wait for the cheers from those already lined up but fortunately they're on my side; all they want to know is if they're in the right line. The people in front look slightly happier than those in back who are just hoping someone else gets behind them. That's where I come in.
12:45pm:
I'm first in line! The Line Master gestures me forward. For some reason, I feel like Oliver about to ask for a second bowl of gruel. "How do I find articles by specific authors?" I ask, and he lifts a bony hand and points… back to the end of the line, right by the entry doors I passed thirty minutes ago on my way here. "Back there. Computers. Use this." He hands me a pencil that's not even a whole number 2 but more like a fraction. It has no eraser. That's O.K, I think. I'm getting closer. Soon, it will all be worth it.
12:46pm:
The Library computers are so ancient they look fake, like the computers on a Star Trek episode before the Enterprise upgraded its technology. Touching the sticky keyboard makes one think not twice but six times. In order to spare my fingerpads the Ebola virus or whatever else might be stuck on the smudged keys, I decide to type with my knuckles. Looking like a smartly dressed Neanderthal, I enter "M-e-h-l-m-a-n". Several catalogue numbers appear and I jot enough numbers down that I feel like I’ve covered all the possibilities. I ask the guy next to me, "What do I do now?". He answers "Give 'em to the guy. He gets you the articles." "What guy?" Yes, you guessed it. The Master of the very same thirty-person line I was, only minutes ago, at the head of.
4:30pm:
Hours later, seated at a wooden table that could seat sixteen in some Hamptons French farmhouse-style kitchen, I'm beginning to feel faint. My research has expanded to the point that I have now looked in every periodical going back to immediately after Mehlman's birth. The chances of him having written an article before he was 10 years old are slim I realize, but I am obsessed. He's written plenty of items, all amusing, but none seem to have that naïf-in-New York City, pre-LA quality that I'd heard about.
Almost everyone else who was at my table has gone, having found what they came for. Each time one of my tablemates stands to leave, I feel a pang of jealousy and a strange sense of abandonment. "I thought we were in this together! What do you mean you're leaving?" I think. My jealousy springs from the knowledge that soon they'll be breathing air that doesn't feel like it's been strained through a sock.
In four hours I've only found one article by Mehlman specifically about New York (a practical guide to summer shares). But I'm tired, the wooden seat is getting hard, and I don't want to be the last one who gets to slam her books shut, shelve them and depart. I'll take it! I'll copy it here and pore over it at home. I tip one open side of the big green book atop the other, resulting in a soft slam. My companions look up at me briefly, jealously. "Yes!" I exude silently. "I'm done. I get to go home!"
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Looking For Peter Mehlman, serialized, Pt. 3
11:17am:
I rise to the disappointed shaking of heads and the sense that I've let the team down. Sullenly, we file onto the platform, into the sad silence of a platform without a train. It doesn't matter that in three minutes there'll be another one: the train you miss is always the "best" one. I avoid the eyes of my fellows and keep myself busy thinking about the treasure at the end of this tunnel, metaphorically speaking: the Mehlman article and the secrets it will reveal about the what makes the written word grab someone's, besides one's own mother's, attention.
11:20am:
A local pulls in and I step inside. Oddly, even though it's 11:20am on a Wednesday, there is not a single vacant seat. I realize at that moment that I've never actually seen "a seat" on the Number One line. True, I've seen hints: a 5 inch strip of orange between two sets of American thighs, but that 5 inch beam of color is quickly blotted out by the not-to-be-trifled-with hips of a middle-aged woman who would certainly complain if her seat on an airplane was only 5 inches wide but here on the subway, seems overjoyed.
The resulting effect is a sort of checker-boarding of passengers all the way down the row, knees protruding in and out as people try to retain a portion of the bench; the pattern shifting as one passenger stands and another slides back. It’s kind of like the Wave, only performed horizontally instead of vertically. I stand, because I'm only passing through, just until I can catch the express.
11:23am:
We pull into the platform just as the express does. Perfect timing. Only our doors aren't opening. "How ironic!" we all exclaim in our different ways, some grinding their teeth into nubs. Some travelers lean on our doors, watching like children with noses pressed against a candy store window as the express opens, and then closes its doors.
"I can wait," I think, "Let someone else fight this battle," and I sit.
Suddenly, our doors explode open. I look up with only the slightest curiosity -- this is typically a tease. But suddenly the express across the platform re-opens its doors. In spite of my naturally low blood pressure, my subconscious throws out the challenge: "You can make it!"
As one, the entire human contents of the local scrambles for the openings -- The Great Subway Escape -- just as our doors begin to slide shut. It's right out of "Raiders of the Lost Ark": the squeezing doors, the second set closing just beyond; the ever-narrowing passage to freedom! All that's missing is rolling boulders. Are we quick and agile enough to get out before the poisoned spears appear?
Twang! Evidently not. My body's out, but I'm not moving. The doors have closed on my backpack. My fellow commuters, always eager for a free show, surround me, some trying to yank me out, some shoving me from behind and, as always (this being an entertainment capital), a few watching, Snickers bars in hand. Helpless, I watch as the doors on the express, barely 10 feet away, slowly hiss closed. It sits there briefly, taunting me.
Suddenly, the local opens its doors and spits me out onto the platform. I'm free! From my knees I look up, just as the express shudders to life and begins to chug away. Quickly, I spin back around just as the local, insulted no doubt by my abandonment, slams its doors shut and departs.
Back on the island of "Missed Trains", I wait.
I rise to the disappointed shaking of heads and the sense that I've let the team down. Sullenly, we file onto the platform, into the sad silence of a platform without a train. It doesn't matter that in three minutes there'll be another one: the train you miss is always the "best" one. I avoid the eyes of my fellows and keep myself busy thinking about the treasure at the end of this tunnel, metaphorically speaking: the Mehlman article and the secrets it will reveal about the what makes the written word grab someone's, besides one's own mother's, attention.
11:20am:
A local pulls in and I step inside. Oddly, even though it's 11:20am on a Wednesday, there is not a single vacant seat. I realize at that moment that I've never actually seen "a seat" on the Number One line. True, I've seen hints: a 5 inch strip of orange between two sets of American thighs, but that 5 inch beam of color is quickly blotted out by the not-to-be-trifled-with hips of a middle-aged woman who would certainly complain if her seat on an airplane was only 5 inches wide but here on the subway, seems overjoyed.
The resulting effect is a sort of checker-boarding of passengers all the way down the row, knees protruding in and out as people try to retain a portion of the bench; the pattern shifting as one passenger stands and another slides back. It’s kind of like the Wave, only performed horizontally instead of vertically. I stand, because I'm only passing through, just until I can catch the express.
11:23am:
We pull into the platform just as the express does. Perfect timing. Only our doors aren't opening. "How ironic!" we all exclaim in our different ways, some grinding their teeth into nubs. Some travelers lean on our doors, watching like children with noses pressed against a candy store window as the express opens, and then closes its doors.
"I can wait," I think, "Let someone else fight this battle," and I sit.
Suddenly, our doors explode open. I look up with only the slightest curiosity -- this is typically a tease. But suddenly the express across the platform re-opens its doors. In spite of my naturally low blood pressure, my subconscious throws out the challenge: "You can make it!"
As one, the entire human contents of the local scrambles for the openings -- The Great Subway Escape -- just as our doors begin to slide shut. It's right out of "Raiders of the Lost Ark": the squeezing doors, the second set closing just beyond; the ever-narrowing passage to freedom! All that's missing is rolling boulders. Are we quick and agile enough to get out before the poisoned spears appear?
Twang! Evidently not. My body's out, but I'm not moving. The doors have closed on my backpack. My fellow commuters, always eager for a free show, surround me, some trying to yank me out, some shoving me from behind and, as always (this being an entertainment capital), a few watching, Snickers bars in hand. Helpless, I watch as the doors on the express, barely 10 feet away, slowly hiss closed. It sits there briefly, taunting me.
Suddenly, the local opens its doors and spits me out onto the platform. I'm free! From my knees I look up, just as the express shudders to life and begins to chug away. Quickly, I spin back around just as the local, insulted no doubt by my abandonment, slams its doors shut and departs.
Back on the island of "Missed Trains", I wait.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Looking For Peter Mehlman, serialized, Pt. 2
11:00am
Buoyed by the fact I live in a city with one of the greatest libraries in the world, and grateful for an opportunity to side-step any actual writing of my own, I head jauntily out the door of my building, when - bam! I'm flattened by a sixty-something, ipod-wearing roller-blader. "Sorry!" he yells back to me. "No problem" I respond, noting yet another example of the under-reported courtesy New Yorkers consistently offer after nearly killing someone. Up on my one good leg, and about to retrieve my backpack, I watched the grey-haired figure recede, marveling at the eclectic variety of personalities the city spawns when - squash! My backpack is neatly bisected by the wheel of a hurtling bike messenger whose sleek, aerodynamic helmet makes one wonder about the shape of the head inside. "Watch it you idiot!", he suggests, advising me, in his way, that the streets of the city can be dangerous if one is not wary. Grateful for the reminder and not entirely sure he was unarmed, I shout back "Thanks!" with not a trace of sarcasm.
11:15am
Looking for somewhere a little safer, I head to the subway: down the stairs and toward the token booth. A small line has formed, and I arrive just as the electronic beep begins to sound: the train is on its way. Those in line look anxiously over their shoulders at the tracks. From the distance, we hear the click-clacking, bad horse-gallop sound effects that signal the near arrival of a train, just as I reach the front of the line and put my $20 down.
"What?" the clerk asks.
The man behind me groans, "Oh, c'mon." His immediate future, along with those of the rest of the line, is in my hands and we can all hear the train sliding in and squealing to a halt.
"One."
"One what?"
"One fun pass."
(I feel ridiculous even as I say it down here in this place that is so far from "fun" it may as well be Hades.) The guy behind me suggests helpfully: "Hurry the f- up!" Obligingly I do, predictably I drop my change and my quarters roll under the token booth, just as we hear the hissing of the doors opening behind us and the rumble of passengers tumbling out. I bend down quickly, and the man behind me straddles my head as he leans in to the agent. From my crouched position, I look up and I'm in a Rugby scrum: there's a canopy of hands above me, moving en masse toward the token booth. Down below, I crab-walk toward the turnstiles to avoid being trampled, but it's too late. A loud hissing and screeching marks the departure of the train.
The train itself makes noises too.
(continued tomorrow)
Buoyed by the fact I live in a city with one of the greatest libraries in the world, and grateful for an opportunity to side-step any actual writing of my own, I head jauntily out the door of my building, when - bam! I'm flattened by a sixty-something, ipod-wearing roller-blader. "Sorry!" he yells back to me. "No problem" I respond, noting yet another example of the under-reported courtesy New Yorkers consistently offer after nearly killing someone. Up on my one good leg, and about to retrieve my backpack, I watched the grey-haired figure recede, marveling at the eclectic variety of personalities the city spawns when - squash! My backpack is neatly bisected by the wheel of a hurtling bike messenger whose sleek, aerodynamic helmet makes one wonder about the shape of the head inside. "Watch it you idiot!", he suggests, advising me, in his way, that the streets of the city can be dangerous if one is not wary. Grateful for the reminder and not entirely sure he was unarmed, I shout back "Thanks!" with not a trace of sarcasm.
11:15am
Looking for somewhere a little safer, I head to the subway: down the stairs and toward the token booth. A small line has formed, and I arrive just as the electronic beep begins to sound: the train is on its way. Those in line look anxiously over their shoulders at the tracks. From the distance, we hear the click-clacking, bad horse-gallop sound effects that signal the near arrival of a train, just as I reach the front of the line and put my $20 down.
"What?" the clerk asks.
The man behind me groans, "Oh, c'mon." His immediate future, along with those of the rest of the line, is in my hands and we can all hear the train sliding in and squealing to a halt.
"One."
"One what?"
"One fun pass."
(I feel ridiculous even as I say it down here in this place that is so far from "fun" it may as well be Hades.) The guy behind me suggests helpfully: "Hurry the f- up!" Obligingly I do, predictably I drop my change and my quarters roll under the token booth, just as we hear the hissing of the doors opening behind us and the rumble of passengers tumbling out. I bend down quickly, and the man behind me straddles my head as he leans in to the agent. From my crouched position, I look up and I'm in a Rugby scrum: there's a canopy of hands above me, moving en masse toward the token booth. Down below, I crab-walk toward the turnstiles to avoid being trampled, but it's too late. A loud hissing and screeching marks the departure of the train.
The train itself makes noises too.
(continued tomorrow)
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Hold On To Your 401K; It's Going To Be a Bumpy Ride
Regarding the $700 billion dollar bailout: Americans don't seem to get (possibly because our clueless President hasn't explained it) that this bailout is chump change. It sounds like a whole lot of money to the average Joe but it's one of those little tiny band-aids in the band-aid box, just to tide the banks over. It's not going to cure or solve the problems of our economy and the stock market crash on Friday reflected that. There are dozens more banks set to collapse, and who knows what other ancillary businesses that were part of this shell game will follow.
After 8 years of the Republican philosophy of "winking at the rich", we're all in big trouble. The "Trickle Effect" that Reagan loved to espouse goes both ways. Welcome to the Trickle UP effect: the repercussions of ignoring a middle class that's been suffering since this administration came to power. Did you plan to retire in the next 5 years? If you didn't vote for Bush, I am sorry for you. If you did, then you're reaping what you've sown.
As my broker says: "Hold on to your 401K; it's going to be a bumpy ride."
After 8 years of the Republican philosophy of "winking at the rich", we're all in big trouble. The "Trickle Effect" that Reagan loved to espouse goes both ways. Welcome to the Trickle UP effect: the repercussions of ignoring a middle class that's been suffering since this administration came to power. Did you plan to retire in the next 5 years? If you didn't vote for Bush, I am sorry for you. If you did, then you're reaping what you've sown.
As my broker says: "Hold on to your 401K; it's going to be a bumpy ride."
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The One Time We Didn't Let Bush Have His Way
Does anyone remember when Bush was pushing to privatize social security by having everyone put everything into the stock market? Raise your hand if you're happy that we didn't let him get away with that one. Had we let him have his way, not only would you have no money to look forward to from the government; neither would the government. Even when the stock market was flying it was a stupid idea, but typical of the Bush Doctrine: details, truth, and a respect for past history are just annoying little mosquitos in the path of a bad idea! Swat 'em and move on!
In hindsight, it was worse than stupid; it would have been a crime. Or should I say, another crime.
Could this be a lesson that conservatives can learn from ? That is; don't let small minded, shoot-from-the-hip (with Cheney's doofus aim) cowboys, with big mouths and small ideas, wreck our country any further. Wheresoever they have led, disaster follows.
When we finally get off this ride, we'll be facing the rise of Iran and Russia, bold now that we are weak and our allies distrust our judgement, along with the resurgence in Afghanistan of the Taliban; so much stronger and more organized thanks to the five years we've given them to train while we've been dithering about in Iraq! We'll be up against the rising instability in Pakistan, the grandstanding of China (if you thought Russia was getting aggressive, keep your eye on China!); hell, I'd watch out for Venezuela at this point. They could invade us this Friday and just take over the country while we're all standing around watching the Dow plummet again on news of another hundred thousand layoffs.
And where this administration has not led, but instead refused to control, other equally catastrophic disasters have followed as well. When I'm not watching the Dow plummet, I have taken to watching little towns across the country get wiped off the map after more and more powerful Hurricanes crush the coasts. Wildfires and floods become more furious each year (I get Hurricane Ike's total destruction of Galveston, but watching the flooding of downtown Cedar Rapids, Iowa made even me lift an eyebrow) all predicted, including the subsequent shortage of gasoline in the South, by the way, by Al Gore.
And now, the economy. By the way kids, this is just the beginning of the bank failures. There will be dozens more. So if you think your savings will be replenished when the market initially bounces after the bail-out bill pays off the bankers, you are in for a sickening surprise.
So back to my original premise: As always, thanks to all of you who voted against Bush, and thanks again, for those who didn't let him have his way with our retirement funds.
America, unlike Europe, has a notoriously short memory. This one time, America, let's remember how we dodged this bullet, this one time we stood up to a bad idea.
In hindsight, it was worse than stupid; it would have been a crime. Or should I say, another crime.
Could this be a lesson that conservatives can learn from ? That is; don't let small minded, shoot-from-the-hip (with Cheney's doofus aim) cowboys, with big mouths and small ideas, wreck our country any further. Wheresoever they have led, disaster follows.
When we finally get off this ride, we'll be facing the rise of Iran and Russia, bold now that we are weak and our allies distrust our judgement, along with the resurgence in Afghanistan of the Taliban; so much stronger and more organized thanks to the five years we've given them to train while we've been dithering about in Iraq! We'll be up against the rising instability in Pakistan, the grandstanding of China (if you thought Russia was getting aggressive, keep your eye on China!); hell, I'd watch out for Venezuela at this point. They could invade us this Friday and just take over the country while we're all standing around watching the Dow plummet again on news of another hundred thousand layoffs.
And where this administration has not led, but instead refused to control, other equally catastrophic disasters have followed as well. When I'm not watching the Dow plummet, I have taken to watching little towns across the country get wiped off the map after more and more powerful Hurricanes crush the coasts. Wildfires and floods become more furious each year (I get Hurricane Ike's total destruction of Galveston, but watching the flooding of downtown Cedar Rapids, Iowa made even me lift an eyebrow) all predicted, including the subsequent shortage of gasoline in the South, by the way, by Al Gore.
And now, the economy. By the way kids, this is just the beginning of the bank failures. There will be dozens more. So if you think your savings will be replenished when the market initially bounces after the bail-out bill pays off the bankers, you are in for a sickening surprise.
So back to my original premise: As always, thanks to all of you who voted against Bush, and thanks again, for those who didn't let him have his way with our retirement funds.
America, unlike Europe, has a notoriously short memory. This one time, America, let's remember how we dodged this bullet, this one time we stood up to a bad idea.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Where's the Arrogance? I Kinda Miss It...
Where's Dubya?
We haven't seen much of our President (his name is George Bush in case anyone's forgotten) starting just about when hurricane Ike hit and wiped Galveston off the map, and certainly hardly at all since the Sub-Prime Mortgage meltdown hit and wiped all our savings off the map.
But I remember the old Bush; the one who used to stride out in front of reporters and spout stuff like: "Misson Accomplished", or when he was congratulating Michael Brown on his good work for FEMA at the site of Katrina, or when he was crowing about torturing prisoners using waterboarding and other tactics, or when he was telling us about the success of the invasion of Iraq and upon the capture of Saddam Hussein (who was he again? What did he have to do with US security again?).
But where is he now? The grinning man in the White House now seems broken, bowed and, dare I say, embarrassed? He's like a great big "oops!" walking around. He was never a leader but now his troops decimated, disgraced and scattered (Rumsfeld, Gonzales, Brownie, Libby, Ridge, Whitman), he seems lost, alone, ignored. Right where he belongs, and belonged before he got elected as our president. Or did he get elected?
Here's a little game you can play with your social circle: try to find someone who voted for Bush. It's so weird: Apparently, no one voted for him! I can't figure out how he became president! All my conservative relatives didn't vote for him, my Republican friends didn't vote for him; nobody in the gas lines in the South must have voted for him, right? That would have been stupid! We know no one in the Northeast voted for him. Those who were proud of American integrity, leadership, power, stability, strength, and who believed in the American Dream, they couldn't have voted for him, right?
I can't figure it out. And I think he can't figure it out either. "How did he get there?" we used to ask each other. And now, the expression on his face says it too: "How (the heck) did I get here?" God knows.
We haven't seen much of our President (his name is George Bush in case anyone's forgotten) starting just about when hurricane Ike hit and wiped Galveston off the map, and certainly hardly at all since the Sub-Prime Mortgage meltdown hit and wiped all our savings off the map.
But I remember the old Bush; the one who used to stride out in front of reporters and spout stuff like: "Misson Accomplished", or when he was congratulating Michael Brown on his good work for FEMA at the site of Katrina, or when he was crowing about torturing prisoners using waterboarding and other tactics, or when he was telling us about the success of the invasion of Iraq and upon the capture of Saddam Hussein (who was he again? What did he have to do with US security again?).
But where is he now? The grinning man in the White House now seems broken, bowed and, dare I say, embarrassed? He's like a great big "oops!" walking around. He was never a leader but now his troops decimated, disgraced and scattered (Rumsfeld, Gonzales, Brownie, Libby, Ridge, Whitman), he seems lost, alone, ignored. Right where he belongs, and belonged before he got elected as our president. Or did he get elected?
Here's a little game you can play with your social circle: try to find someone who voted for Bush. It's so weird: Apparently, no one voted for him! I can't figure out how he became president! All my conservative relatives didn't vote for him, my Republican friends didn't vote for him; nobody in the gas lines in the South must have voted for him, right? That would have been stupid! We know no one in the Northeast voted for him. Those who were proud of American integrity, leadership, power, stability, strength, and who believed in the American Dream, they couldn't have voted for him, right?
I can't figure it out. And I think he can't figure it out either. "How did he get there?" we used to ask each other. And now, the expression on his face says it too: "How (the heck) did I get here?" God knows.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Goodbye To You (Glaciers, Rain Forests, Lots of Cute Animals)
Have you noticed as I have, the spate of recent articles with the phrase "vanished" in the title, along with "disappearing", "dying", and "perishing" (simply I suppose because writers are just getting tired of the word "vanishing")? Here's a small sample:
"Honeybees Vanish, Leaving Keepers in Peril"
"Chinook Salmon Vanish Without a Trace"
"Saving the World's Vanishing Shark Species"
"Brokaw Explores the Vanishing Chilean Sea Bass"
"On Emptying Seas, A Vanishing Way of Life"
"Vanishing in the Wild, Mountain Gorillas"
"Louisiana's Vanishing Wetlands"
"Coral Reefs Vanishing Faster Than Rain Forests" (they're winning!)
"Vanishing of Frogs, Toads Tied to Global Warming"
and of course,
"The Vanishing Middle Class" (whose relation to Global Warming is the fact that those who control and blindly support big industry are out-sourcing and down-sizing at such a rate that your kids will be the only thing not vanishing, because they'll be living with you, never having found a job.)
More recently I've read about:
"Northeastern Bats Are Perishing and No One Knows Why"
and an update on the frog situation:
"Link to Global Warming in Frogs' Disappearance is Challenged"
The frog article makes the case that perhaps global warming plays a part but in fact it's a fungus that's killing off the frogs. Yes, Virginia, in many cases of these "vanishings" it is true, a mysterious fungus, or a mysterious cancer or a mysterious virus is what is killing off these species. But that's like saying it's not global warming that is flooding the low-lying parts of the world, it's water! Or it's not global warming that's shrinking glaciers, but excessive heat! It's part of the game that has even purportedly "intelligent" people dodging the issue entirely. "Having lost the argument about whether in fact life forms are disappearing, let's debate about what's making them disappear and make absolutely sure that we don't get blamed for this!" (they cry). "Whatever it is, it's not us!" (they cry) "...and who gives a hoot really whatever it is, as long as we don't have to change our lifestyles or admit we were wrong!!"
I know a few people who have, on principle (the same principle that guides those who believe it is impossible for man to have walked on the moon as well as the principle of "someone else will pick it up"), refused to see the Gore documentary "An Inconvenient Truth". These people believe it to be full of political propaganda and hysteria, and perhaps also, the truth, which, once commonly accepted, won't help any of those who still want to buy a Hummer. And insisting that they will never view the film, they have missed out on the indescribable fascination of watching as, systematically, almost all the catastrophes that Gore predicted 5 years ago when he first started to give his presentation, have come to pass. (If only he could predict the moves of the stock market as accurately!)
I don't know a better argument against the idiocy of denying that global warming is going to cause us some big hurt (and by us, I mean the world, and even rich people who are in another part of the world but whom we still bump into at Starbucks), than the fact that scientists on the side of the deniers never even heard of Global Warming until Gore and the world's environmentalists started yelling about it, and when their predictions started coming true, well, the naysayers (generally the political right) had to get some guys from the same think tank they hired to keep the tobacco companies in the black ("smoking is GOOD for you!") to start saying that Global Warming is natural, periodic, inevitable and has nothing to do with Greenhouse gases, and man-made pollution.
But if that's the case, and now, even these GW deniers say that GW is going to cause problems in the future, then why didn't these scientist (or "scientists") start warning us about it long before Gore? You've noticed that now even Bush is conceding to the fact of GW. What he won't admit is that it's man-made. But why, if it's a natural occurence, did not one scientist on the conservative side ever warn us about rising seas, and more severe hurricanes, and decimating heat waves? Wouldn't that have been helpful? Why didn't they notice or predict, as Gore et al has and did, that there would be disastrous economic consequences of GW, along with preventable loss of life (remember the 2003 heat wave that killed 14000 in France alone?), and suggest that perhaps we ought to worry about neighborhoods in low lying areas, along with our record albums stored in the basement? Doesn't that seem odd? Why were environmentalists who believe GW is man-made able to predict and warn about the problems that we face today, 40 years ago, but those scientists who are trying to sell us on the "natural cycle theory" totally silent, and caught off guard?
I'll tell you why - it's because these anti-GW "experts" are pushing a theory purely to protect conservatives' investments in big industry. You don't hear them reminding us that they predicted melting glaciers and poles and killing heat wave, and that these phenomena were all completely expected in the grand scheme of things. Because those who deny global warming now, never saw it coming.
It was the environmentalists who noticed that glaciers were receding, heat waves were becoming more frequent and increasingly lethal, droughts, devastating fires and floods were increasing in severity, and suggesting that even if you lived on the prairie you might still consider investing in a row boat to tool around main street. The average environmentalist has been predicting issues related to GW for about 40 years. And in the last few years, the only brakes on this environmental juggernaut have been applied by those crazy tree-huggers and their insistence on truth. Those nuts!
So what can you do with naive ignoramuses who continue to ignore and downplay this issue ? Same thing you have always done - argue as much as you can stand, and then when they start getting all emotional and start attacking your virtue, your patriotism and your hairstyle, walk away. Unfortunately sometimes you're sitting across a dinner table from them and although you may have the impulse to pass the mashed potatoes - to their heads! - you must not, because that's rude and not worth the loss of perhaps a very good side dish.
And you know what eventually happens? As much as these deniers argue and huff and puff and make fun, they quietly come around. They come over to our side of the argument so serrupticiously that we who have been warning and doomsaying never get to gloat (darn!). But that's OK, because even better than gloating is to have people convinced that this is a real issue and has to be addressed. And people who were once in denial, once they "get it" become really passionate! People who convert (to anything) are typically even more devout than those who were raised with a certain set of beliefs. You know how people who quit smoking are absolute vigilantes when it comes to smokers? And become much more hardline than people who never smoked? Well that's how converts to environmentalism are. Guilt is good!
So I welcome naysayers. I have to. I know they will eventually see the light (one more violent hurricane or drought or devastating flood in the red states ought to do it). Now we just have to work on the ones who don't believe in evolution. Forget about the ones who don't believe we walked on the moon. Let them hold onto something!
"Honeybees Vanish, Leaving Keepers in Peril"
"Chinook Salmon Vanish Without a Trace"
"Saving the World's Vanishing Shark Species"
"Brokaw Explores the Vanishing Chilean Sea Bass"
"On Emptying Seas, A Vanishing Way of Life"
"Vanishing in the Wild, Mountain Gorillas"
"Louisiana's Vanishing Wetlands"
"Coral Reefs Vanishing Faster Than Rain Forests" (they're winning!)
"Vanishing of Frogs, Toads Tied to Global Warming"
and of course,
"The Vanishing Middle Class" (whose relation to Global Warming is the fact that those who control and blindly support big industry are out-sourcing and down-sizing at such a rate that your kids will be the only thing not vanishing, because they'll be living with you, never having found a job.)
More recently I've read about:
"Northeastern Bats Are Perishing and No One Knows Why"
and an update on the frog situation:
"Link to Global Warming in Frogs' Disappearance is Challenged"
The frog article makes the case that perhaps global warming plays a part but in fact it's a fungus that's killing off the frogs. Yes, Virginia, in many cases of these "vanishings" it is true, a mysterious fungus, or a mysterious cancer or a mysterious virus is what is killing off these species. But that's like saying it's not global warming that is flooding the low-lying parts of the world, it's water! Or it's not global warming that's shrinking glaciers, but excessive heat! It's part of the game that has even purportedly "intelligent" people dodging the issue entirely. "Having lost the argument about whether in fact life forms are disappearing, let's debate about what's making them disappear and make absolutely sure that we don't get blamed for this!" (they cry). "Whatever it is, it's not us!" (they cry) "...and who gives a hoot really whatever it is, as long as we don't have to change our lifestyles or admit we were wrong!!"
I know a few people who have, on principle (the same principle that guides those who believe it is impossible for man to have walked on the moon as well as the principle of "someone else will pick it up"), refused to see the Gore documentary "An Inconvenient Truth". These people believe it to be full of political propaganda and hysteria, and perhaps also, the truth, which, once commonly accepted, won't help any of those who still want to buy a Hummer. And insisting that they will never view the film, they have missed out on the indescribable fascination of watching as, systematically, almost all the catastrophes that Gore predicted 5 years ago when he first started to give his presentation, have come to pass. (If only he could predict the moves of the stock market as accurately!)
I don't know a better argument against the idiocy of denying that global warming is going to cause us some big hurt (and by us, I mean the world, and even rich people who are in another part of the world but whom we still bump into at Starbucks), than the fact that scientists on the side of the deniers never even heard of Global Warming until Gore and the world's environmentalists started yelling about it, and when their predictions started coming true, well, the naysayers (generally the political right) had to get some guys from the same think tank they hired to keep the tobacco companies in the black ("smoking is GOOD for you!") to start saying that Global Warming is natural, periodic, inevitable and has nothing to do with Greenhouse gases, and man-made pollution.
But if that's the case, and now, even these GW deniers say that GW is going to cause problems in the future, then why didn't these scientist (or "scientists") start warning us about it long before Gore? You've noticed that now even Bush is conceding to the fact of GW. What he won't admit is that it's man-made. But why, if it's a natural occurence, did not one scientist on the conservative side ever warn us about rising seas, and more severe hurricanes, and decimating heat waves? Wouldn't that have been helpful? Why didn't they notice or predict, as Gore et al has and did, that there would be disastrous economic consequences of GW, along with preventable loss of life (remember the 2003 heat wave that killed 14000 in France alone?), and suggest that perhaps we ought to worry about neighborhoods in low lying areas, along with our record albums stored in the basement? Doesn't that seem odd? Why were environmentalists who believe GW is man-made able to predict and warn about the problems that we face today, 40 years ago, but those scientists who are trying to sell us on the "natural cycle theory" totally silent, and caught off guard?
I'll tell you why - it's because these anti-GW "experts" are pushing a theory purely to protect conservatives' investments in big industry. You don't hear them reminding us that they predicted melting glaciers and poles and killing heat wave, and that these phenomena were all completely expected in the grand scheme of things. Because those who deny global warming now, never saw it coming.
It was the environmentalists who noticed that glaciers were receding, heat waves were becoming more frequent and increasingly lethal, droughts, devastating fires and floods were increasing in severity, and suggesting that even if you lived on the prairie you might still consider investing in a row boat to tool around main street. The average environmentalist has been predicting issues related to GW for about 40 years. And in the last few years, the only brakes on this environmental juggernaut have been applied by those crazy tree-huggers and their insistence on truth. Those nuts!
So what can you do with naive ignoramuses who continue to ignore and downplay this issue ? Same thing you have always done - argue as much as you can stand, and then when they start getting all emotional and start attacking your virtue, your patriotism and your hairstyle, walk away. Unfortunately sometimes you're sitting across a dinner table from them and although you may have the impulse to pass the mashed potatoes - to their heads! - you must not, because that's rude and not worth the loss of perhaps a very good side dish.
And you know what eventually happens? As much as these deniers argue and huff and puff and make fun, they quietly come around. They come over to our side of the argument so serrupticiously that we who have been warning and doomsaying never get to gloat (darn!). But that's OK, because even better than gloating is to have people convinced that this is a real issue and has to be addressed. And people who were once in denial, once they "get it" become really passionate! People who convert (to anything) are typically even more devout than those who were raised with a certain set of beliefs. You know how people who quit smoking are absolute vigilantes when it comes to smokers? And become much more hardline than people who never smoked? Well that's how converts to environmentalism are. Guilt is good!
So I welcome naysayers. I have to. I know they will eventually see the light (one more violent hurricane or drought or devastating flood in the red states ought to do it). Now we just have to work on the ones who don't believe in evolution. Forget about the ones who don't believe we walked on the moon. Let them hold onto something!
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