NOTE...

This is Seminal Climate Crisis Journalism...
it all starts with The Expansion Crisis...
after reading, simply click the 'newer post' link until you get back here...
once you have completed this page, click Fadda Eart...left...to proceed

But...not for long...

Nobody's foolish enough to really believe that we're trapped here.

It's the same thing as some ancient ruler controlling the public with advance knowledge of an eclipse.

Make up a bunch of horror stories surrounding the upcoming event, and claim to prevent them with some unimaginable power...a power only you possess.

That's exactly what Ecobabbleism is.

We ain't still stupid enough to fall for it again, are we?

smythspace@gmail.com

here's the real skinny.

Ecobabbleism is my term describing The Climate Crisis.

It is being practiced by Agenda Driven Corporations, Special Interest Groups, Self-Promoting Individuals, and Government Agencies.

Simply put, Ecobabbleism plays upon the doubts/fears of the populace...promoting, and promising greener pastures...while pushing various agendae which will assure practitioners Power in The Future.

The insidiousness of Ecobabbleism lies somewhere between The Masons and Scientology.

The Present...

Is the butterfly looking outward...contemplating an amazing voyage?

Or, is the little critter facing a screen...looking in on someone else's viewpoint?

That's where we stand.

How you feel, responding to this image...should serve as a clue to how you will fare in The Future.

HISTORY

History...

I agree with the prevailing wisdom on one thing..if we lose sight of our History, we will be unprepared for the present...History got us to here...it's the connection...our guidebook...our manual.

The more we know about our past successes and failures the better we become at utilizing the good and not repeating the failures...theoretically, that is...good and failure are pretty subjective terms.

However, the lessons of History do not apply to the current Global Crisis...picture a timeline of Human population...there's zero precedent for this situation.

Looking back...successwise...we proliferated...failurewise...who's to say?...that's what we know.

There's the rub.

To be perfectly honest with ourselves...this is our HeyDay...our day in the Sun...our time...the most exciting period in Human History...we are the Climax Animal of Planet Earth...and it appears we are making a mess of things.

In the past, there's never been an immediate, species threatening situation...which can be evaluated by everyone before proceeding.

It affects us all...and everyone knows about it.

Yeah, yeah...I know...not really everyone...but, everyone whose actions affect the future of anyone other than those in their small, off the grid/tribal unit.

This fact changes everything.

From this point forward, History is a fascinating burden...constant review is not going to solve anything.

We did this...we proliferated ourselfs into this mess...naturally.

What are we going to do about it?

Our intellect, relying on History, tells us we gotta do something...react and respond.

Take command of the situation...we always have...that's our way.

But, for some inexplicable reason, our way ain't cuttin' it anymore...time to move forward.

The End...for History.

Anything we can envision is possible.

We just gotta learn to project a brighter outlook.

SYOG

Ecobabbleism on Earth...TIN MEN in Space...

I have seen the future...and it looks weird.

OILMANTALITY rules the planet...Richard Branson is The Face of Space.

Huddled Masses stare into their screens...hoping for a glimpse of real life...someone else's...from the past.

Yep...I said Huddled Masses...thought we were over that one, didn't ya?

What's the dif?

The Huddled Masses are cleaner, better trained, and most are sufficiently opiated...that's always been the goal, hasn't it?

Maybe this sounds good to you...maybe not.

I'm just giving you a glimpse, so we'll be prepared...like the good scouts we all are.

To learn more...carry on...it's all here.

Forge Ahead through these Interesting Times...curses!

NOTE...

The brilliant observer, Hunter S. Thompson said...'when the going gets weird...the weird turn pro'...I guess he was right.

Save The Earth

Meet Lame & Flimsy...they're presenting an exciting new global juggling act...contrived to set our minds at ease during these interesting times.

You should see the guy on the right juggle plates...full ones.

The other one appears blind...( I just received this image, and don't yet know who's Lame and who's Flimsy)...maybe he's Blind Lemon Lame...Blues Juggler.

Anyway...just knowing they're out there tossing things around makes me feel good...I couldn't wait to share this with you...as soon as I know more, I'll report in...carry on...

NOTE...click FADDA EART...to your left...for more on Algore, et al...

REACT/RESPOND

As long as we continue to deal with the issues at hand in our typical REACT/RESPOND fashion...we're screwed...think NOLA.

The problem has to be right there, full blown, for all to see before reaction and response can happen...and...there has to be a system of precedence in place, to establish and disseminate the proper reaction/response mechanism to the populace.

I don't know what today's computer modeling terminology for such a system would be...but, I'll bet every model would predict failure of same...the system of precedence dooms everything...think about it...

The problems we face today cannot be 'waited for', dealt with, and RESPONDED/REACTED to.

Unless, of course, that's nature's way...in which case, I'm standin' at the rail, pissin' into the wind...right along with everyone else.

Embrace the ride...it's the only game in town

Reduce Puffery...

Puffery, Pomp and Circumstance, and all other Trappings of Power consume enormous amounts of energy.

Pols, and others, who seek public support, should instantly drop said Trappings...otherwise, they are all full of it...as I claim.

Let's see one of these Bozos really Buck the Tide, swim upstream, and break away from the schoolies.

The positive effect on Global Warming would be incredible...think of all the hot air that will be eliminated...isn't that a big part of the problem?

I liked the crazy guy who rolled his sleeves, and jumped around spewing spittle all over the place...get him back on the ticket...at least we'd know where things stand.

Of course...the folks who really need to see this are busy at the Blank-Faced Power-Lying seminar...so my hopes aren't all that high.

Gotta enjoy a grin over this once in a while...otherwise, why bother...this mess sucks!

outside what box?

The only boxes in nature...exist inside our gourds...we made 'em up.

It all began before time.

Some Hominid stared out the opening of his cave, too frightened to venture anywhere, starving to the point of hallucination, and on the verge of howling at the moon...which had gone from a huge round disc, to nothing, to a huge round disc again...since the last hunting and gathering venture.

Experience had given the Hominid fire and taught him to store water and dried foodstuff.

It wasn't all that bad, because he didn't know what he was missing...this was par for the course...hole up until the predators move on.

The moon began waning.

Lightbulb on!

The same ration of food disappeared between the appearances of the large round disc...every time.

There it is, Kids.

From that moment, 'til right now...our timeframe has been ruled by holed up survivors...staring fearfully outward.

They dreamed up The Box.

It exists for them...in their minds...let 'em have it.

learn more...

FOR NOW

Global Warming...wassupwidat?

With all the numbers being tossed around...fractions of a percentage point rise in temperature, barely measureable amounts of increased Carbon Dioxide...etc...I started looking into possibilities other than those most touted.

The first thought that made any sense was a possible contracting of Earth's orbit around the Sun.
It seems like everything else in the Universe is in a stage of contraction, inexorably drawn toward some center.

Why not our orbit?

After some consideration, I figured Earth's orbit, contracting by only our own diameter, might make a noticeable difference.

Temperatures rise and drop considerably in any given location due to seasonal changes in Sun angles...why not because of getting a little closer?

The surprising thing is...there's no measurement even close to accurate enough to detect such a change.

93,000,000 miles is as close to a useable number as any.

There are refinements...Scientists talk in Astronomical Units...but their estimates are no closer than the old Kellogg's Corn Flakes ads...one AU is about 93,000,000 miles.

Who knows how realistic my thoughts about getting too close to the Sun might be?

There's no way to measure it...that surprises me.

Maybe it's a case of those in the know deciding the public isn't prepared for such info...it happens.

More likely...no-one's come up with a way to make money from the knowledge...yet

And...Poluticians* can't come up with a way to make it relevant in upcoming elections...what would they promise to do?

* Poluticians is a typo, but it looks good...pollute icians...polluting people's minds with their Agenda Driven Global Warming Gibberish...

smythspace@gmail.com

Review...

There's a lot here....time to digest, before I become guilty of exactly what I'm trying to prevent...spreading Ecobabbleism

One of my techniques is to leave things alone for a while...then go back and try to read like someone who's seeing the material for the first time. If it works, I get a different impression with every read.

Today, it worked...here's my first impression.

The onslaught of gibberish about to ensue RE The Climate Crisis, is far more dangerous than all the Anthropogenic Carbon Dioxide ever produced.

The solution will be worse than the disease...like radiation therapy. Anthropogenic/Carcinogenic...what's the dif?

Save the Earth has been turned into a guilt trip...because it's been co-opted, and is being spewed by guilty parties, hoping to atone.

Ecobabbleism will lead to frantic GeoEngineering...11th hour, doom from a comet scenario, heroic leaders anguish over collateral damage...all sorts of pleasant possibilities loom.

And, if we don't pay attention, it's just gonna be 'meet the new boss, same as the old boss'...but much, much worse.

STOP OILMANTALITY!

There...you actually needn't read anything more, unless you enjoy the idea of seeing into the future through your own eyes.

You'll be needing a Personal Cosmology...otherwise...go forward believing the agenda driven blather of others...not much good ever comes from that, eh?

What goes around really does come around...and ya really do reap what ya sew.

Try it!

IT AIN'T THE OIL

IT'S THE OILMAN

One thing we do have control over in The Global Crisis is...Dammitt...I can't think of one.

Back to the drawing board...a few minutes later...

Ah Ha!...Got one.

Personal Spending... http://smythspace.blogspot.com/2007/02/answers.html

Mudda's Day...by Fadda Eart

Here's some POV from Father Earth...his friends call him Fadda Eart, or Pops Eart...

Mudda wants me to remind you that Dinosaurs made less of a mess.

The peak of Reptilian existence came very close to creating permanent, low lying methane clouds...almost overwhelming the exchange of oxygen...and turning the verdant Eart into a fetid, putrid swamp.

Too many Brontosauri in one location was deadly...those boys could fart, lemme tell ya.

Funny, dumb, flatulent, hapless creatures...I liked 'em.

You know how they moved around.

Badumpadump...badumpadump...heads all bobbin' around.

They're gone...along with their kindred Reptilians...collateral damage, eh?

Mudda couldn't breathe.

This morning she awoke to total friggin' cacophony...created by us.

Figger the rest out for yourselfs.

Happy Mudda's Day...Mudda F'ers...yer makin' the ol' Gal cranky.

Oh, yeah...just because it's Mudda's day, don't mean ya can relax.

How about this?

By the time Ethanol becomes ubiquitous, The Petro Chems will own everything, from the ground the corn is grown on, to the distribution stations...and, since there will be no other economy, because Petro Chem/Plastic production has ceased, they'll finance, manufacture, lease, and re-cycle the vehicles...a perfect, closed-loop economy....sounds sorta OK, 'til ya realize it's gonne be Oil Men, all over again...new boss, same as the ol' boss, eh?

It ain't the oil...it's the Oil Man...petro, or corn...oil just sits there.

Plus, imagine the excuses they'll have to do Genetic Engineering with their "NON-FOOD" corn...check out the accidental cross-pollination of genetically altered/non-gentically altered corn happening right now...picture that on a grand scale...managed by OILMANTALITY.

Cripes, if we can't foresee this one, and set up parameters, before the response/react phase, we deserve whatever happens.

There are no applicable lessons from History on this one...except...Might Makes Right.

More power to ya, Kids!

America...love it, or leave it

Remember that one?

Nobody seems to be heeding the advice.

All we do is bitch about everything, and I don't see anyone leaving.

I think Pols want fences to keep us in...not to keep others out...a trained populace isn't easy to come by...can't have any of 'em escaping.

Because, pretty soon, the only way out will be up...and up is already filled with weaponry...pointed back this way.

Wassupwidat?

I just realized...

Sea Change is produced using only 100% Re-Cycled Electrons.

Google 'ecobabbleism'...

www.google.com

simply tell your friends to Google ecobabbleism...all the buzzwords appear right there...one click away...that's pretty nifty...don'tcha think?

The ability to say Google ecobabbleism...out loud...in mixed company...without giggling, or gurgling, is proof that one is ahead of the curve...really!

When it all comes around, and Google ecobabbleism is generically infused...partly because of your involvement...you'll feel so good, it'll tickle you in places ya didn't even know ya had...or, have long forgotten.

Rawfeed...unedited...make of it what you will...

Take pride in your work.

What a great concept to instill into the minds of a population whose task is developing an Industrialized Nation.

It worked brilliantly...for a while.

Now, in a Post-Industrialized World, the left-over Homo Sapiens, still proud of their work, bite the bullet, while pride and boastfullness over not working, not providing anything tangible... gleaning the remains, if you will, becomes the way of the land...can you say, "Homo Technus" Rules?

As long as we continue forward under these conditions, we will never muster the gumption necessary to accomplish anything.

Why bother...eh?

NOTE...that's some extra raw material...

I don't even know what it means...yet...something to do with a weakening trend...

By way of clarification...old timers around the Gloucester Waterfront could often be heard to say, "It's a great life if ya don't weaken."

Over many years around said waterfront, I've worked with a number of strong, capable, vital individuals in their 80's, and even 90's.

Pride in their work is the one constant.

I don't think Humanity can afford to let something like that escape our grasp.

We are struggling enough right now, don'tcha think.

Phewww!!!

It's always good to survive the stupid phases.

Take stock for a moment.

That's what just happened.

Humanity has, through instant evolution, and blind luck, survived one of our stupidest phases ever.

We've learned that when anything is turned loose on the public, there's a period of discovery, a thrilling stretch of usage-development, and abuse 'til it's gone...levels of turmoil correspond accordingly.

Left unchecked, that is what we will do every single time.

So, turn this loose...and speed up the process...it is infinitely renewable.

Plus, Ecobabble has opened avenues of discussion all around the Globe.

There's a built in market...go for it Kids...

I'm taking the top this, M'fers approach...let's see what ya got!

Here's my opening...

For one sorry stretch, Humanity produced way too many sleazeballs...so many, in fact, that some rose inexplicably to the top...how else can we explain the recent half millennium?

Their time is passed.

Culture Starved, as we are, whatever hits the target...right now...will become the future.

Dick Tracy's wrist radio has become Cellular Technology...major Global Industry from a cartoon, fer cryin' out loud.

That one happened pretty much on its own...comic book kids, science geeks, and Popular Mechanics addicts saw to that...ideas were excitedly shared, and expanded upon...not sold...at least in the early stages.

The later stages, when the $ started changing hands, never would have happened without the freely shared period...is anyone left alive who can handle the sacrifices required to go through another freely shared period?

With what we now know, we should be able to take virtually any idea, spread it generously throughout the media, and get a positive result.

Let's give it a try...anybody home?

Pretty far out thought, but simple, true, and doable...eh?

Forge Ahead!

back to...

fairly regular postings at this location...

It seems my best course of action, at the present moment, is your basic name-dropping for fun and profit.

Let's start with my all time favorite Media Planting event...the one which should push this over the top.

If it works, Art Dif, Billionaire Enviro Mentalist sits down with Algore, Richard Branson, and Ted Turner...to discuss The Global Crisis...live...via webcam...utilizing the media clout of the participants to get some attention.

Don't click the link yet...read below for a line, or two.

http://www.nesl.edu/csr/NewSite/EAPonlineGD.cfm?show=bahouth

The fellow mentioned is Peter A. Bahouth.

Peter was head of Greenpeace, and Director of The Turner Foundation...yet, even the Earthiest types knew little, if anything about him...until the above appeared...very recently...he's re-inventing himself.

Check out the link...interview is down the page a little...and click back to here.

With that in mind...

Ted Turner and Jane Fonda presented The World Peace Writing Competition several years ago...offering a prize of $25,000, receiving 10,000 entries, and deciding there was no winner.

I have never been able to get an answer to 'where are the entries?'.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, I didn't get it together in time to meet the deadline, and enter officially...but, I did submit "This Just Came...an American Hobo's Papers"...my adventure in self-publishing, to The Turner Foundation...96/97...way late, but on the record, via good ol' Peter A. Bahouth...who comments, '...great book, Steve'...but never another response.

I recently followed his trail of crumbs to an Art Gallery, where he shows his stereoptic pics...I think that's correct...pics taken with an antique stereoptic camera, eh?

No response.

So, in the truest American Way, I'm going to the public, claiming that Bahouth's current drop-out, explore new avenues, etc. phase is the direct result of his absorbing the material contained in "TJC".

Find stuff of Pete's from his Greenpeace/Turner Foundation days. Compare it to today's Rap.

I'll do the same.

I can't reproduce "TJC" on this Blog, but, if necessary, can find key elements, and show the genesis.

In a nutshell, I claim to have presented Pete with several keys to World Peace, and he, like his mentors, The Mouth of the South, and Barbarella, just took it for his own.

I have absolutely nothing against Pete, his mentors, or anyone else, for that matter.

It just continues to amaze me how people in power are so often capable of doing such ridiculous things...and I can't resist presenting them opportunities to display their prowess.

Check this out. It's true.

I'll stay on it by referring the Art Gallery back here. I've done it before, to no end. Let's see if this gadget is working properly this time.

stay tuned...Media Planting Rules...this is only the beginning...

Here's a little something Pete and his Buddies have all had access to since 96/97.

Note...I just discovered from reading about 'the new Bahouth', that his Buddie List includes devout Enviro Mentalist Woody Harrelson...name-dropping seems to be fashionable here in the world of Ecobabble.

Nature...excerpt from "TJC"

Nature is represented here as a young sapling, in a primeval forest...Willow, or Aspen...quaking in a gentle breeze, slender, supple, green, and bent to make a snare.

Along comes a rabbit.

Snap!

Nature and Mankind co-operate. Mankind survives.

Later.

The Human who made the snare, to catch the rabbit, to feed his family, is hungry again. The kids are screaming. His mate is in a fury.

This Human goes to the same tree over and over again. Soon, his scent pervades the area. His snare works once in a while. He catches hedgehogs and water rats.

Eventually...

The snare turns up empty every time. His family despises the hunter.

But, he never thinks to move to a new tree.

Nature has become his enemy. He bends and bends the sapling, angrily wrestling with his snare.

One day...as he struggles with the no longer so sapling, sapling, his foot becomes entangled in the snare.

The sapling is now a strong young tree...a snapling.

The persistent, but not too clever Human hung by his ankles for three days, until the vines he had used for his snare rotted and broke.

He fell on his head.

Starving, semi-conscious, barely sentient, and ever more intolerant of nature's ways, he spent the next two days crawling back to his cave.

There, his starving wife and children attempted to nurse him back to health.

He was their only hope for survival.

I don't know if those humans survived. But, I think they did.

I think they proliferated.

I think their progeny exist to this day.

Sounds familiar...eh?

a treat...for your patience...

Full Moons in May...

There are two full moons scheduled for this May.

We can pretty much assume that they’ll arrive on time.

As will their effects.

Who knows what this will bring?

Thinking about it reminds me of a full moon in May experience from about twenty years ago.

It begins during a drive through the Laurentian Mountains, from Montreal to PEI, on a winding, roller coaster-like road, alongside a fast rushing river, sweeping through granite and scrubby pine chasms, while the clearest moon I’ve ever seen followed our sightline for hours.

It wasn’t even 100% full. The official full moon was fifteen hours away. But, it sure had the look going for it. Really incredible…the road was less traveled, allowing us to drive along at a leisurely pace, heat on, windows open, music filling the van, and the surrounding chasms...creating an echo, over the sounds of Van Morrison, with the whoosh, and splash of rushing water coursing through…way friggin’ cool.

It must have lasted four, or five hours. We finally came to a place where the leisurely pace was no longer possible, and the moon had gone behind the highest parts of the rocky terrain. It was early AM, we’d been on the road since Montreal, had taken turns driving…snoozing, and saw no reason not to continue without sleep.

Ozone levels remained high, while full moon fever, and the amazing resonance of musical echoes, infused with river sounds generated a brilliant sense of clarity…big fun, eh?

Next stop, the Ferry from Moncton NB to Summerside PEI.

Upon arriving, we were faced with a view across the Northumberland Strait, of PEI enveloped in something beyond fog. There was a giant snowstorm, black as night, sitting directly over PEI, dumping thirty inches of unbelievably heavy snow.

The temperature in Moncton was approaching 60 degrees Farenheit. Stations on PEI had recorded low 70’s the day before. Yipes!

The Ferry didn’t leave for hours. Watching the storm, about 11 miles away, over the Strait, you could clearly see the precipitation, glistening through the low angles of morning Sun…beneath a billowing, roiling black cloud…almost as cool as the moon…don’tcha think?

By the time we disembarked at Summerside, temps were above 50, the Sun was blazingly clear, and the snow was visibly melting into a liquid fog, and dissipating upward so fast that it swirled.

The snow depth was going down…right before our eyes.

We drove to The Poetical Asylum, parked at the roadside, trekked into the property through about two feet of slushy Pea Soup Snow Fog, until the clearing.

Clothes off, running and rolling through the snow, into the 70 degree waters of Malpeque Bay…howling like damn fools.

Within a few hours, the ground was bare of snow, with fast moving rivulets everywhere.

Soon, the highest ground was passable for the van. We drove in, settled ourselves, and smiled ‘til it hurt.

As night fell, and the really full moon rose, there came a howling from the next parcel of land. I knew from previous visits that there was an Indian Reservation on this land.

Running between The Asylum, and The Reservation is a brackish tidal creek, which opens into Malpeque Bay.

The full moon had brought a run of smelt into the creek. The Indians were catching them by hand, like Grizzly Bears, and tossing the fish into large plastic trash bags...while howling at the moon like peyote crazed coyotes. They’d squeeze each fish for signs of milt, and toss back the males. I spent the next several hours joining in.

It was amazingly easy to focus, and grab a fast moving fish from the water. Of course, there were about ten bazillion of them. It wasn’t exactly catch, or die of starvation…but, it was funner than all hell.

All compliments of one full moon in May…can’t wait to see what a May with two brings.

toward a solution...

...here's where we're going... http://syog.blogspot.com

I suggest a look below before proceeding...

The suggestion has been planted...start 1.20.007...let's see how long it takes to clarify the issue.
This will give us some indication of our ability to get together on key topics...not agree, necessarily...get together with purpose...here we go!

Outside what box?...there are no boxes involved, anywhere else in nature...only inside our gourds.

Anthropogenic Carbon Dioxide...

NOTE...date...above...

I'm not jumping aboard as developments proceed...this is from March of 2007.

Nobody had ever heard the word Anthropogenic.

Today, it's tossed around like casual sports terminology...everyone knows how to use the word in conversation.

That's Media Planting.

Imagine how far ahead of The Environment Game I am today!

ANTHROPOGENIC...sounds like Carcinogenic, eh?

Why would someone suddenly start using such a word?

Who knows what it means?

It's being used by Ecobabbleists to add the twinge of fear, and self-loathing to the equation.

I say self-loathing because Anthropogenic = Man-Made...as in, we are a Cancer on the face of the Earth

This is a prime example of the subtle scare tactics employed in the promotion of Ecobabbleism...confusion to the populace...man-made is wrong...worse, a fatal disease.

Don't try to tell me you didn't experience a vile sensation when you saw Anthropogenic Carbon Dioxide...you did.

99.999% of Humanity got the same impression...that's the point.

This word has become fashionable among guilty parties, attempting to atone, wanting to share their guilty feelings, and spiff up their epitaph.

They feel guilty for being alive, and abusing the priviledge...and are using the enormous upswell of Ecological Awareness as their foil.

Oh, yeah!

Those of you of The Age know you're using the last of it...leaving your offspring in the worst mess in history, and you do nothing...car pooling to the recycle center, in your hybrid doesn't really count.

That'd be my tactic, if I chose to play the guilt-trip game.

It works...those of you of The Age felt it.

P.S...

Richard Branson, Dilettante Environmentalist, likes the word Anthropogenic... www.virginearth.com

I bet anything you can name, that stipulations set forth by 'The Rebel Billionaire' before purchasing his private island, included clean air, fresh water, and safety from the onslaught...should the Caca hit the fan.
It's easy to posture when you have your escape plan in order.

ATTABOY!!!...

Everyone deserves an ATTABOY!!!

Seriously...our abuse of Petro Chem, and our awareness of its potential for disaster, began at the same time.

We love to play with fire.

Considering the risks, loving the gains, we sucked it up like Mother's Milk.

Now, we're surrounded by it.

Amazingly...we have arrived at the crisis point, just as awareness levels reach their peak...or, vice-versa.

However one sees it, if we destroy our niche on Earth, by milking her dry, we can simply blame it on Permanent Puppy Syndrome.

You know how puppies will engorge themselves to death, unless forced off the tit.

We're like that, too.

Fortunately...according to legend, we have superior intellect, and should be smart enough to wean ourselves.

The options exist...change demand...supply will follow.

The ATTABOY!!! is for getting to here.

The next one will come if we survive the upcoming onslaught of Ecobabbleism, without doing anything really stupid...like Geoengineering under pressure.

I've lived my entire life with Nukes on the horizon...'oh, well...what the hell'.

Consciously messing with the environment, in some insane plan to fix everything at the last minute, scares me.

My goal in life is to award the next ATTABOY!!!...live, and in person.

Here we go...hang onto your hats...

Art Dif...Billionaire Enviro Mentalist...guest...

Hello again,
It's been about a month and a half, since last my last post...click Enviro Mental...upper left.
I've just finished following the suggestion...read the entire Blog, from back to front, as a refresher...you'll get to the link in a few minutes.

Well...
It seems that SmythSpace has covered the Ecobabble issue quite thoroughly.
Taken as a whole, my sense is SmythSpace feels that anyone born from the close of hostilities WWII, through late '47...early '48 should be called upon to take a stand.
The idea being...these individuals have such a recognizable common history ( the exact same time as King Petro Chem's Reign ) that consensus on key topics may be possible.
This will be beneficial because the immediate Post-WWII Boomer group is a major target market for today's Petro Chem based economy.
This is power.
later...
Art Dif...Billionaire Enviro Mentalist...

Media Planting...update...

In an earlier post, I brought up Media Planting...check it out...it only takes a few minutes to get the idea.

http://smythspace.blogspot.com/2007/01/media-planting.html

Back already? Good...here we go...Czech President Klaus, in comments given at The Cato Institute, says...

http://www.upi.com/InternationalIntelligence/czech_pres_environmentalism_is_a_religion/20070309-060020-3030r

Not only has the notion of Ecobabbleism reached his ears, it came to him through my contact with Cato Institute, via a link on www.drudgereport.com

Drudge is like having my own wire-service. It's great.

Lately, they feature some sort of Ecobabble on a daily basis.

The other day Drudge ran an article about Hookers being affected by Global Warming. Seems the Central European Ski Resort trade is off.

Drudge also carries regular updates on more serious Environmental issues. These links are invaluable to Yours Truly. Response to an article is more likely to be read than just sending random, introductory emails.

I've been able to introduce Ecobabbleism to several major players in the Ecobabble Wars.

Cato Institute among them.

'Environmentalism is a Religion' equals Ecobabbleism.

Now, I need some major player to use the term...and say where the idea came from.

That's Media Planting.

Stay Tuned...it leads to great things...

P.S...If you are a newcomer to this Blog, it's like opening Cracker Jacks from the bottom, to get at the prize. The newest material is posted first. You'll enjoy catching up.

History is...

The Future can include escalating levels of clarity, leading to a brighter outlook, or become pure, straight to the brain, agenda driven, hocus-pocus.
Hunker in the bunker, or cast off for ports unknown.
It's our call.

That's how my first posting to this Blog, titled expansion, closes...top left, under SO FAR...

The plan was to introduce the notion that Humanity is facing a Global Crisis...as Humanity...for the first time in History.

Every Human whose lifestyle provides access to this device is part of the problem.
What it took us to gain access to this device has contributed greatly to this problem.
I'm surrounded by objects made from Petro Chem waste, and I'm a self-declared Enviro Mentalist.

Ironically, this plastic box is also the solution.

add this to the mix...Earth's population has doubled since the start of Petro Chem's Reign...plus, the only people who paid any attention to birth control over this time are educated, civilized, top of society's heap...the balance of haves v. have nots among the recently added 3 billion Humans is overwhelming...in favor of the have nots...

Now that The Global Village has had a chance to take a look at itself, the Villagers are up-in-arms...understandably so, if you ask me.

Geoengineering may suit those high up in the grand scheme, but it's not going to sit well with the already disturbed Villagers.
Those who propose such Technobrained solutions show that they have zero common sense.

These folks still strive for Man's Dominion Over Nature.

GET OVER IT!...you are nature...BOZOS...

STOP ECOBABBLEISM

events transpired...then it was now...

Let's take a look at what we've actually done here.
We've taken naturally occurring chemicals from beneath Earth's surface.
These chemicals buried themselves, and would have, over Eons, come back to the surface, and dispensed into the atmosphere.
Through numerous processes, we've greatly accelerated the natural course of events, creating The Climate Crisis.

Some think it's no big deal, some fear dire consequences.

What's going on has created an imbalance.
The symbiotic nature of our existence on Earth is way out of whack, and we know we're the ones who overdid it.
Earth just continues to be Earth.

Our survival instinct is kicking in.
It's like sensing 'The Force'.
Multitudes experience the sensation, while a few act to realize the experience.
It finds it's common denominator, and becomes part of us.
It's what we do...how we proceed...why we survive...

Continual disruption of the Status Quo is the only reason I'm not attempting to get this across to you by scratching with my dibble, on a sandy stretch of beach, by moonlight, praying for the tide to hold back just a little longer.

Fortunately, just when direct, spontaneous contact becomes of utmost importance to survival of the species, up pops the internet...whewww!!!

That's survival instinct...we're going to be OK...

Yes, we've overdone it.
It should come as no surprise.
We can get over it.

The Climate Crisis, as currently presented, is a ruse, dreamed by oilmen, to ensure that the greatest value will be drawn from the remaining supply.

My concern is, after decades of knowing all the same stuff we know now about atmospheric pollution, it's suddenly topic #1.

Hmmmm...

What could possibly be better for oilmen than having the world's economy turn on their every whim?

The only thing I can think of is promoting the notion that the remaining Petro Chem supply is crucially low, it's use must be judicious...not only because it's a scarce, natural commodity, but because we now realize the error of our ways, and must make a transition from Petro Chem to some alternative...right when supply is crucially low...

...controlling the economy, dispensing the vital Petro Chem as suits, and using the profits to develop controlling interest in whatever market rises to the top of the heap in the new Enviro World...ensuring economic power throughout the inevitable transition.

Ecobabbleism is their 'confusion to the enemy' weapon.

P.S...When President Daddy sits around with Cheney, and his other top cronies, they're fantastically successful oilmen...and they have their hand selected puppet at the helm...maintaining the Status Quo...

urgent...

The sooner we recognize the key phrases, the better.

There's a tone to this agenda driven nonsense.

Those who are jumping on the Climate Crisis Bandwagon, after profiting greatly, suffering pangs of guilt, and hoping to spiff up their epitaph, don't really know what they're carrying on about.

All they can do is Parrot what they pick up from advisors.

Their terminology gives them away.

Here's a good example... http://www.virginearth.com

I call it High-Falutin' Flapdoodle.

If there's a better way to bleat, without saying anything, or committing to anything, I've never seen it.

Learn to look out for these telltale signs.

It'll help clarify your choices.

Fresh Start...

Ecobabble has been covered.

Sea Change begins.

For those of you who have not had the opportunity to follow developments, look top/left on this page, under SO FAR...click expansion...it's the first posting.
This format publishes the newest material first.
To absorb the flavor, read from back to front, by clicking the link at page bottom to 'Newer Post'.
This will take you from day one, all the way through to here...providing insight into everything Ecobabble...
You'll enjoy it...guaranteed...no matter what side of any fence you may be on, this material will provide you with a fresh outlook...and, give ya'll a grin, ta boot...betcha anything...

new stuff ASAP...enjoy!

Conclusion...iacta alea est...

Save the Earth is the consummate human vanity.

It was a nice buzzphrase, got awareness levels up, and served to awaken enough individuals that the Climate Crisis is no longer considered a joke.

The phrase has outlived its usefulness. It is now an encumbrance.

Until we get over the idea of Saving the Earth, and realize that the only thing Earth needs saving from is us, we remain pawns in our own intellectual wanking...victims of Ecobabbleism, if you will.

All we can hope to do is take the lessons we have learned, moderate our behavior...sufficiently enough to allow natural healing to thrive...and adapt to the changes we have wrought...the sooner, the better.

It took nearly half a milennium to get Save the Earth, from Hippie gibberish to mainstream.

We do not have that long to get over it.

Besides, if King Petro Chem is actually overthrown, those images we've all seen from Mogadishu, and other strife ridden areas of the Globe, will seem like safe haven. Don't kid yourselves. We're in this for the long pull.

This Blog is titled 'Sea Change' for a reason.

Don't forget, the toughest thing for most humans to do, is consider the future. We barely have a present, it flies by so fast.

The future...whewwww!!!

Stay tuned...there's much more, still to come...in the future.

If this proves cause for reflection, you'll enjoy the following material.
Reading it has brought me to the above conclusion.
See what it does for you...

It's time for Yours Truly to move forward.
C'mon along...it won't be dull...

there's a sea change a comin'
comin' for us all
we're bound to get swept up in it
all ridin' on this ball

since what you see, is what you get
learn to see it all...

Fadda Eart...in his own words...

All this sudden hand-wringing over the Climate Crisis is preposterous.
It didn't start the day Al Gore's movie went big.
All but the oldest living humans have been aware of the probable consequences of Atmospheric Pollution for most of their lives.
Fifty years ago, when overconsumption of petroleum products began in earnest, voices proclaiming the dangers were squelched in the name of progress...but, they were there.
The Cultural Revolution of the '60's brought our awareness level to a point where it can only be concluded that most of us preferred to ignore the warnings.
No-one can claim they were never heard.

NOTE...
These generalities apply only to humans whose lives are taking place in modern, industrialized nations...contributing to the problem...
Those whose lives remain primitive, have little effect on the issue at hand.
The fact that they are out of the loop means little...except, consequentially, to them...but, there's nothing they can do...
They're not going to see this.
It's aimed at those of us who are...

I think the deepest depth of blame lies with a very specific group.
No, not megalomaniacal Oil Barons/Sheiks, nor their viscious minions...the blame lies with those of the age who, faced with controversial decisions, chose to ignore the threat, basically repeat their parents lives...with better toys...and dummy up, now that it's time to pay the piper.

Yes, I'm talking to you...you know who you are...
Dare I call you 'The Silent Majority'?
I bet none of you think of yourself that way, but...it's who you've become...you did nothing...you said nothing, except maybe throw a few verbal jabs at the wackos who were speaking up...and ninety percent of everything you purchase today is made with petroleum products...
Except, of course, food...which comes to you compliments of King Petro Chem...fertilizers, fuel, and packaging...all petroleum products...
Now, even if you suddenly wake up, and just flat out stop using carbon based fuels, you still can't stop the train wreck...
Without a use for petro fuels, there will be no plastic...no petroleum products...plastic is made from Petro Chemical Waste...at least it was waste before you started helping out King Petro Chem by buying it...

This scenario leads to Global Economic chaos, all out war in the streets, and generally, not a pretty picture.

Plus, all the harm done is for naught.
Whadda ya got ta show for it?...a vehicle that cost more than a house did a few years ago, and gets around about as cheaply as house moving...a garage full of expensive plastic clutter...you know...

It's become fashionable to have a personal balance sheet.
I bet a lot of you show a net worth somewhere near that 1950's magic million dollar mark.

Go try to collect.
You have a marker...valid only in this game...the only game in town...
Even if you could cash in, you'll be broke before you die...unless your insurance fails, and some everyday ( non-life threatening with insurance ) event brings you to ground early...

The next morning...

Does it bother you that our two leading Enviro Mentalists, Branson and Gore, believe that we are still about Saving the Earth, and doing so via Moral Authority?

Branson's Ecosite http://virginearth.com waxes poetic about Save the Earth, and a flowery future, but still proposes a technological solution. His intentions seem good, but he's a gadget freak.

Here's an idea...keep Virgin flying, but drag some sort of filtering device behind the aircraft...or, seed the exhaust with a chemical that neutralizes carbon-dioxide buildup, and turns it into a natural fertilizing agent, which falls with the rain...something clever...that's what Sir Richard wants...and, he hasn't yet realized that it's about saving our niche upon Earth.

Mudda Eart don't need us...and it is the ultimate vanity to believe we have any hand in saving her...from what?

...US...

I heard Algore say that we would solve the problem of emerging industrial giants...China, for example...and their certain contribution to the Climate Crisis, by exerting our Moral Authority.

Algore's never done anything that interests me, so I know little...except that he's married to Tipper, believes we will succeed via Moral Authority, and his father was a stereotypical influence peddler, who epitomized smarm.

That's more than enough for me.

to be continued...

BLAME...guest post from Fadda Eart

There always has to be a scapegoat, or we have nowhere to direct our anger...

Maybe that's the answer...I blame us.

And I guarantee...I'm pissed-off at us enough for everyone...so, don't waste your time on blame...I got it covered...

Good, now we can start solving the problem...

For starters...this adherence to the lessons of History thing is complicating the problem.
History was yesterday.
There are no relevant lessons from our past, which apply to the Climate Crisis...other than the everpresentness of 'might makes right'.
We are at an evolutionary crossroads.
Our next move is a done deal.
Something has to give.

The wheels are so fully in motion that this Climate Crisis has taken over from Terrorism as Fear #1.
For an impending possibility to garner so much attention, it must have some basis in reality.
Whether that reality is happening all on its own, or is the result of despicable men, with no concern for anything but them, and theirs, does not matter.
What matters is that we've collectively taken note of the problem.
That's big.

Can collective consciousness overcome evolution?...does it really need to?

In days of yore...History, if you will...those at the top of the heap, making all the big decisions, creating the problems that are our future, didn't have access to as much intelligence as I do, sitting here before this screen, today.
Yes, it's all their fault...they did it...got us into this mess...
But, they didn't know any better.
Get over it!
We do know better.

Fadda Eart

answers...

...don't get excited...I'm not making any ridiculous claims...yet...

The format presents the newest stuff first.
This makes it necessary to refresh the purpose in each post.
Otherwise, it's all mumbo-jumbo...just like all the rest of the gibberish surrounding Ecobabbleism...which, by way of refreshment, is exactly what we're trying to avoid here.

For example...if this is your first visit...what the?...doesn't make much sense, does it?

My Son tells me savvy readers know that's how Blogs go, and anyone interested will scroll down, look to the left, and...if it looks cool, continue on, and check things out.

That's good, but, if this is going to have the desired effect, I can't start off by putting demands on the reader.

There's enough www to lure anyone's attention away in milliseconds.

I would never even get this far, without a previous purpose, or the promise of celebrity skin.

So, today's project is...an attention getting Synopisis...no problem...piece of cake...

6:00 AM Sunday...2/18/007...the quest for answers...

My first thought is...7:35 AM...

Mobilize Post WWII Baby Boomers to boycott all products using Dennis Hopper as their spokesperson.

This includes ads he's done in the past.

The Bozos in the Ad Biz utilize Hopper's smarmy smirk to generate a sense of escapism...an identifier with the Bad Boys of the Boomer Generation.

Smokin' his stogie, cruisin' in a Lincoln, surrounded by the Bikers from Hell, he leers into the lens, and says, "Only in America."

That's from a few years ago.

But, the image of rebellion, gone to seed, never to blossom, settled smugly into a traveling Barcalounger, oozes from ol' Dennis' every creepy pore, in ads targeted toward us on a regular basis.

I think he's the spokesperson for some 'We're still Groovy after all these years' product right now.

It tells us what those in the Ad Biz think of us.

Hopper's tone represents smart-assed dopers, laughing at everything but theirself, with a lay back and giggle at 'em for tryin' outlook.

That's what Boomers admire...in the minds of the Ad Biz Bozos...are they right?

It ain't all four hour boners, and endless sunsets, Boys...time to suck it up, and deliver on some of that unfulfilled promise...

This suggestion is probably terroristic, or seditious, so actually boycotting anything is risky biznis. Hopper shills for major players. Messing with their bottom line would harm the economy.

The point is...

If I'm getting the point across, there should be nothing left to say.

I'm suggesting that by picking on some poor sap from a TV ad, we can change our outlook.

That can't be right, can it?

new word...

pretty nifty...

This Blog is powered by Google.
I've barely scratched the surface of what's offered here...FREE...and already, Google has provided me an invaluable service.
My first post is dated 1/20/007.
In less than one month, SmythSpace has coined a new word.
www.google.com
search for ecobabbleism...
When's the last time you saw a Google listing with only single digit search pages available?
The first time ecobabbleism appears in the lexicon, it is associated with this Blog.
Ecobabbleism, my word for the foolishness surrounding the Climate Crisis, has been projected into the flow.
That is Wicked, Pissa, Awesome...
Thanks, Google!
Now, it's my job to make it the standard...the straight stuff...

RAWBABBLE...access to tools...opposable thumbs...

When this book first became popular, it sat around, in obvious plain sight, in homes everywhere.

It was...'an essential coffee table book'...promoted as a decorative accessory to the chicly hip, or hiply chic...take your pick...
Folks were way too cool to admit it, but the image of Earth, and the implication that, by displaying it you were groovy, sold the book.
It became almost like Playboy...read every word, in case you're questioned...very few people cared about access to tools...that's what Hardware Stores were for...people learned stuff from this book by default...a lot of what they learned could prove valuable today...
It's just that the promise fizzled, and it became a cliche'...like everything else turned loose in USofA.
That's what we do...distill everything to its most common denominator.

It means that everyone gets a dose.
It may be ridiculously diluted Kool-Aid, tainted with who knows what, but there's some for everyone.

One good indicator of where a person stands today would be if they still have their 1968 copy.
I'll be the judge of whether it's really their copy, or yard sale/ebay memorabilia.
They'll only take a split second to tell.
The book contains subliminal messages that show on a person's face.
I bet those, whose copies are genuinely theirs, have something to offer...if we can wake 'em from their long slumber...and send them forth into the world...as Rip Van Winkle Warriors.

Man, are they gonna be shocked...watching them awaken should be interesting...

end RAWBABBLE...it fits in here somewhere...

ecowrap...here's the skinny...

It all started long ago, when nature seemed a merciless, unrelenting foe.

Our surroundings were bigger, and far more powerful than us.

Where would thoughts of ever using it all up come from?

As we learn the lessons of our History, we often become stuck at certain phases, repeating History, in some form of ancestral tribute, instead of taking the lesson learned, and moving ahead.

We still talk about Man v. Nature...Man's Dominion over Nature.

It's a losing battle...we are nature...

Until we acknowledge, accept, realize, and act upon our naturalness...our part in the natural course of events...we may as well use up all the Petro Chem as fast as humanly possible, adapt accordingly, and get on about our business.

The current Climate Crisis will serve to establish options for the time when Petro Chem is gone.

Forward thinking, tech-headed individuals will come up with a workable solution.

Maybe rain can be distilled into carbon fuel...that sort of thing...

Some form of Homo Technus will survive.

By the time all this occurs, survivors will be well adapted to conditions of the day, and be perfectly content with their lot in life.

Homo Sapiens time will have passed.

History will remember us as powerfully doltish.

We strove, pushed, and struggled...constantly at war with ourselves, never grasping the obvious.

Oh, well...here we go, Kids...hang onto your hats...

That's pretty close to exactly what's going to happen.

Unless...

kineticism...

hindsight...

If humans had seen this a century ago,

we wouldn't be in this mess.

But, it didn't happen,

and we are.

Forge Ahead!

RAWBABBLE...affection for nature...

http://smythspace.blogspot.com/2007/01/expansion.html
above is a link to the first post...reading it will help set the stage...

RAWBABBLE will appear periodically, in this space.

This all started because nature was the enemy.

Germs, predators, natural disasters...whew...that's some scary stuff.
Especially before 24/7 monitoring of every event on the globe.
When Krakatoa blew, that was Armageddon...none of those who died got to phone family and friends, at the final moment...there was no awareness of anything outside of themselves, and their surroundings...except the vastness of the ocean, and the sky...the Earth shook, the Heavens darkened, and existence ended...period...badda-boom...
As recently as the 1800's, cataclysmic events in USofA's Midwest, were the end of the world, as far as survivors knew.
There was no way of knowing that the entire planet wasn't heaving, rupturing, and flooding.
Those survivors, and the tales they spread, contributed greatly to the wide eyed, religiofervent look on the faces of many a Midwesterner.

Point being...by accident of birth, we're here, right now, today, generating the Climate Crisis...all in the same boat...at the same time.
This device can contribute enormously.
We all have access to the same information...really...a single piece of important information can reach every single individual whose lifestyle affects the Climate Crisis, in the time it takes for that individual to get online.
Keep in mind that folks without access to this device, probably aren't contributing much in the way of carbon emissions.
So, if they are out of the loop, it means zero to the solution.

Even though we're all onboard, facing a common problem, this is a pretty big boat, and we're not driving.
There's no Captain.
No-one can be everywhere, at once.
This ubiquitous gadget can be.

In the course of a single day, every human whose behavior affects the Climate Crisis, can access, process, comment on, and make decisions based upon the exact same information.

That's the first time ever, for that.

If we're serious, and we can't use this thing to come up with a consensus-like outlook, we're.....

The dots represent us...trailing off...into the sunset...

NOTE...
I just realized that the internet is a natural occurrence, part of the natural course of events.
We invented it, and rushed it to ubiquitousness, because we need it...NOW!...
As things reach the breaking point, up pops the solution.
Our survival instinct remains strong.
That's pretty friggin' cool, if you ask me.
We're smarter than we act, sometimes.

Or...even better...lucky!

HEADS UP, KIDS...

ECOBABBLEISM is on the move...don't miss the Older Posts below, and to your left, under SO FAR...it'll set the stage before moving on to...
fresher babble... http://ecobabbleista.blogspot.com/
freshest babble... http://ecobabbleism.blogspot.com

ECOBABBLEISM...

I have good news. It's nobody's fault. Get over it. Forge ahead.

Here comes ecobabble...

With guys like Richard Branson, Algore, and Ted Turner on the case, we should have nothing to worry about, eh?
The Rebel Billionaire, Lurch the Internet Inventor, and The Mouth of the South save the planet.
Whew!
I don't know about you, but I feel better.

I predict blue skys, green grass, clean oceans and birds chirping all around...coming soon...to a planet near you...send compost now...things should be ready in a few million years...buckle up, here we go...

Before these guys turn their outlooks into gospel, I'd like to go on the record.
They represent The Guilty Party.
Branson admits he got involved out of guilt. I heard him say so on The Weather Channel.
Turner's been doing some bizarre penance ever since he married Janey.
As far as Lurch goes...that's some wacky dude...can you say, agenda?

Guilt ridden, agenda driven, Johnny Come Latelys with access to the media...great...

Here's how it looks objectively...guilt free...

As time passes, and the level of interest rises, so will the confusion over which way is best. Special interest groups, and profiteers will see to that. Confusion to the Enemy is a tried and true method.
No matter where you choose to stand on the issue, you're someone's enemy...so give it your full attention...don't allow confusion to reign...

With this in mind...a few simple basics...as a point of reference...

We cannot destroy the planet.
We can only destroy our niche on the planet.
The symbiosis is out of whack.
Recognize this.
We're the ones on the take. We have to make the effort.

Simply put...
Don't delude yourself about Saving the Earth.
This is about saving us.

Earth does not care.
If she did, she'd probably figger, "Hmmm. I was better off before they got here. Things were calming down."

Human Generated Global Warming can only be dealt with by ceasing the use of fossil fuels.
This is within the realm of possibility, if we're serious.
While considering this, realize that the most populous, most rapidly developing nations on the planet are early Industrial Age in much of their development. Fossil fuels are the fuel of the Industrial Age. What are they going to do?

We'll have to adopt a true Humanitywide Global Outlook, realize that we are fighting for survival, and accept, what, in today's world, will seem like serious hardships...starting now...

Otherwise, we start adapting to climate change, dwindling population, and greatly diminished personal freedom, as we battle over the ever scarcer supply...of just about everything...

It's as simple as that.

Change...or humans will be at war over diminishing resources until the end of time...you can take that to the bank...

Wasting decades reacting, responding, studying, conferencing, and trying to undo the past is foolish.
It's always been our way. It too must change. It's a luxury we can no longer afford.

Studies showing thirty years to serious consequences are flapdoodle.
If you believe that our actions brought about these potentially serious consequences, you know that they're serious right now.

What's done, is done, and cannot be undone. Take what we've learned. Acknowledge that there are tough decisions.

Change, or not.
Just don't get stuck nowhere.
Make the tough decisons. This is no time for fence sitting.

Also, don't forget that the Environmental Movement did not start last week.
Solutions, though costly, exist...thanks to the efforts of these folks...

Take what these New Ecobabbleistas pitch with a grain of salt.
They'll have to get all their most valuable information from people they've historically put down as granola eatin', tree huggin', unwashed, etc...the spin should be fascinating...the art of compromise...strange bedfellows, and all that...

Ecobabble is also a great diversion to terrorism...we'll all feel better trying to stop Global Warming...after all, we can't do anything about terrorism, except fret...get our minds on something new...

more to follow...

GET OVER IT...

Get over Man v. Nature. It's a no-win situation.
We are nature.

Everything we have ever done, everything we will ever do, is part of the natural course of events.
Don't waste time on a reactionary, guilt driven crusade to undo our mistakes.
Take stock. We know what's good for us.
Change demand, and supply will follow.
That's the natural course of events.

We are on a reckless course, which will determine the future of Humanity.

Not of the USofA, or Islamic Fundamentalism, nor any other ology, or ism.

Us.

There's no time for review.
Change for the better.
It's in us all...somewhere...

If you need an ology, or an ism, to get started...
apply some kineticism to the problem...a little soul salve never hurt...

http://smythspace.blogspot.com/2007/01/kineticism.html

check it out...you'll feel better when you return...

Al Gore...Nobel Peace Prize...

This morning's first perusal of the www brought news of Al Gore's consideration for the Nobel Peace Prize.
It made me think of a post below.
My associate, Art Dif, Billionaire Enviro Mentalist, guest hosted that day.
Here's what Art had to say about ol' Al...Wed...1.27.'007
...Al Gore, one of the leading voices of our environmental conscience, claims we will get the rest of the world to follow in our newly developing Environmentalist Nation footsteps through 'Moral Authority'.
We, in our greater wisdom, will set a shining example for the rest of the world to follow.
Nations all over the globe will alter their ways, in emulation of our 'Morally Authorized' lead.
Cripes! That ol' boy is flat out stupid.
Nobody has looked to USofA for any 'higher outlook', since guys like Al's Dad ran the show.
They pretty much dumped Pandora's Box all over the place, and left the mess for us to clean up.
Yet, this bozo, son of an influence peddler, who, more, and more, resembles a lurching undertaker, came a few crooked votes from being the President, and gets huge attention for whatever issue enters his gourd.
I think he's a crazed lunatic with a forum...
Art goes on after that...you can click the post entitled Enviro Mental...for more...the link is under 'SO FAR'...just to your left on this page...

On the other hand, Al's married to Tipper.
I guess he deserves something for that.

AZORES OR BUST

Determination...The Little Engine That Could...Sisyphus...etc...
All throughout life, there are indelible images which serve to move us ahead.
My favorite actually occurred.
One day, back in the '70's, I happened to be walking on the beach at Plum Island, Newburyport, Mass.
It was a wild weather day. Strong off-shore winds were holding back giant waves churned up by a storm at sea.
Plum Island is a very steep beach.
When the tide is high...very high because of the storm, it creates a riptide as the perfectly formed rollers, held from breaking until the last instant by the off-shore blow, drop onto the slope, and sweep back, underwater, in a reverse curve.
As these waves break, they force a large amount of air rapidly out the front of the wave tube.
This blows back toward the beach, beneath the force of the off-shore winds.
Here's the scene.
There's very little beach left from the high tide.
30-40 mph winds are blowing very powerful waves backwards, holding them.
Until finally, with a crashing whooosh, the waves create near hurricane force winds, blowing inland, right along the surface of the sand, beneath the force of the off-shore effect.
Not a very attractive scene for one planning to set off from said shore, eh?
Well, it didn't stop what appeared to be millions of Monarch Butterflies, on their way to the Azores, from doing just that.
I was strolling along, staring ahead, down the beach, exhilerated by the incredible surf action, when, in the distance, my eyes caught sight of an orange carpet, covering much of the sand.
Upon approaching, I could see that the 'carpet' was butterflies, attempting to fly out over the churning waves, setting out for points East.
It wasn't going very well.
The most fortunate ones were high, and dry, holed up in little pockets they'd created in the sand by flapping the livin' b'jaysus out of their wings. Just like Flounder make little depressions in the sea bottom, these determined little guys had created foxholes for themselves.
Every square inch of dry sand in sight was dimpled with Monarchs.
Unfortunately, there were at least five times more gathered, than could fit on the dry areas.
If they stayed low, the onrushing wave whoosh tossed them mercilessly back, into the marsh grass, tearing most of them to shreds, leaving a gruesome, orange-gossamer ribbon along the grassline.
The ones who got caught in the updraft, and found their way into the off-shore flow of air, were thrown into the oncoming surf, smashed onto the beach, and swept away by the riptide.
Their instinctual drive to go was so strong that, after watching the scene for a while, I realized the ones in the holes waited, rested a few seconds, and whoosh, up, or down, depending on where the wave action was at the moment.
These fools were going, come hell or high water.
It was an horrifically destructive natural moment in time. There was absolutely nothing I could do.
But, because it had that car wreck quality, I couldn't stop watching.
Well, wouldn't ya just know it?
I looked Eastward, into the sky.
Of the seeming millions, a few were up there, having caught the off-shore just right, and were flapping madly, in every direction.
All their butterfly senses must have been wacked from the trauma.
More flew downward, back into the crashing surf, than flew upward, into the breeze, and Eastward.
But, by gum, some of 'em were heading in the right direction.
I can't even guess how long I stood there, transfixed...helplessly rooting them on...
But, I do know it made one serious impression.
I'm absolutely certain there has never been a worse day in my life than those Monarchs were having.
It didn't deter them at all.
Forge ahead...
here's a link to a graphic depicting the events...http://azoresorbust.blogspot.com/

to those of the age...

Post WWII Baby Boomers.
The children of The Greatest Generation.
The Best and the Brightest.
We're going down in History as the greatest, most clearly pre-defined Target Market ever.
Not as the much touted generation that changed the world, rather as the generation that never got over being spoon fed their Pablum.
Stooges, in other words.
I've followed the development of this, 'Boomers as Target' phenomenon, since a short involvement with The Nostradamus of Marketing, Faith Popcorn, in the early 80's.
Faith coined the term Cocooning, to capture the tone of her Future Trend Prognostications.
Basically, she convinced marketeers to prepare for a market she would create...a market of stay at homes, who first wanted, and soon needed everything brought to them, or done for them.
Pretty clever. It worked.
But, like all good ideas turned loose in USofA, it's gotten way out of hand.
Yep!
Hippie Chicks have evolved into Mall Moms. Grace Slick is Brittany Spears.
Major Dudes wonder how to get ED tablets without embarassing themselves. Moon Doggie died of Hep C.
Well, Kids, I am of the age, and I'm not gonna take it sitting down.
I say, "Rise up from your Barcaloungers, toss the remote, set aside the Ben & Jerry's, and take to the streets."
But, before running off half-cocked, like we did the last time, take a few minutes to casually roam around your home.
Open the closets.
If there's a basement, attic, or garage, take a peek.
Scan whatever yard you may have.
As you look around, do a quick tally of how much $ is sitting around, unused, and forgotten.
I bet you have a lot of useless, expensive stuff, which you really needed when it was purchased.
There it sits, collecting dust.
And, you haven't finished paying for it.
Now you have a reason to take to the streets.

here's your Anthem...

there's a sea change a comin'
comin' for us all
we're bound to get swept up in it
all ridin' on this ball

See you there.
P.S...
George Bush is going to be History's poster child for us.
If that don't light a fire under your butt, join Moon Doggie.

P.P.S...
That's about as frivolous as I get on this topic. Though, there is a certain air of ridiculousness about the whole business.
Don'tcha think?
However, it is a very serious issue.
If you are somewhere, mid to late fifties, very early sixties, you are of the age.
It's insidiously time, and experience specific.
Here's a clue.
Figure how many times you've felt the urge, but suppressed your gut feeling, and done nothing because of all your responsibilities.
Look around at all your stuff, again.
There's your responsibilities.
Psychobabblistas call it baggage.
Even though you no longer give a hoot about most of it, you surrendered many hours of your life to get it.
It's got weight, in your Pablumed outlook.
It's yours.
Take good care of it.
The marauding hordes of unfortunates, about to sweep the planet are going to need toys, tools, and transportation.
Hand it out graciously. You may survive another day.
See...I told you it wasn't all that funny.

AARRGHH!!!...part one...

She'll keep ya afloat, and buoy yer spirit, aye!

Aarrghh is a small community located on one of the coastal islands.
You can only get there by boat.
Proposals are afoot to build a roadway to the mainland, and vice-versa.
The versa part is what's gotten everybody up in arms.
"Those folks could drive here," became the battlecry.
This was usually said while gesturing all crazy-like toward the mainland.
Efforts, among Aarrghhites, to resist the causeway/bridge combo are strong.

Bubba awoke one morning to a vision of this ugly concrete and steel erector-set spanning the three miles of tidal marsh, separating Aarrghh from civilization.
Not one to pass on a clear vision, Bubba set to work preventing the apparition from coming true. He sure as hell weren't havin' no such thing loomin' over Aarrghh.
Fred, down at the barber shop, was a big reader. Bubba went to Fred's to discuss the future of Aarrghh.
Fred recalled something about Riparian Rights. This was an old set of laws, regarding what could, or couldn't, be built along navigable, inland waterways. Aarrghh was not exactly inland, but, in the minds of those at Fred's, the mainland was. The marshland was considered brackish, so perhaps fresh water rules could be deemed to apply.
Aarrghh wasn't even really an island. It was a naturally occurring mound of sand which the tide moved around. Theoretically, the water running between the mainland and Aarrghh is a Tidal River. The 'enviros' will surely pipe up with something.
These thoughts got the ball rolling.
Bubba immediately adopted the Riparian Rights concept.
He became 'Bubba the Riparian', Defender of the Sovereignty of Aarrghh's Shoreline.
The discussion, at Fred's, went round and about the topic for several days. Much was also said at Bubba's Bait and Tackle.
Along with selling fishin' gear, and doin' mechanikin', Bubba sold fuel, was the dentist, and, when Fred was in jail that time, Bubba took over the barberin'.
Oddly enough, the time when National Geographic did the photo shoot, was during Bubba's barberin' tenure. All the pictures of Aarrghhites, in their rural nonchalance, show folks with Bubba barbered hair.
No wonder those on the mainland wanna come to Aarrghh so badly. With dental work, and hair, by Bubba, Aarrghhites are a wild lookin' bunch.
Tourists would feel like they'd done Appalachia, South Florida, and half the Banana Republics, with a trip to Jamaica thrown in along the way.
It was a tough decision for ol' Bubba. All those tourists would surely make him a rich man.
While there was only one liquor license in Aarrghh, owned by the VFW, Bubba had always held onto a little Rheumatiz Medicine, which he sold in case of ‘emergency’.
Bubba's Bait and Tackle would make one hell of a saloon for the tourists. Bubba already knew the procedure to claim rights to the next license.
Even though his liquor sales had always been illegal, he was next in line due to Grandfathering. Laws are weird, but they work, if understood.
He could see the greenbacks floating off into the sunset as he began the 'Bubba the Riparian' campaign.
Truth be told, Bubba already was rich. Hell, he'd just recently buried the third of those stainless steel suitcases full of loot. His storage unit held untold value. And, there wasn't but a few tourist dollars in the whole mess.
Bubba had an amphibious Duck.
He drove it to Alacort, the closest shore community, two, or three times a month, carrying passengers, contraband, and who all knows what else.
Bubba often made $500 for the three mile drive to shore.
Sometimes, the ride back would pay even better.
If Bubba knew what you were up to in Alacort, which he usually did, and, if what you were up to left you holdin' extra cash, the return fare could double.
This was the money Bubba buried. There was over $100,000 in cash, and the stuff at the storage facility would easily bring in that much again.
As the days passed, Bubba began to think about the fact that almost all the cash and other loot he'd accumulated came from folks he knew.
Laura, who had lately, begun asking around town for loans, credit, and any other assistance she could get, had given Bubba at least $20,000 over the years.
In her day, Laura ran with a pretty wild bunch. They paid handsomely for a few days on Aarrghh.
They called it ‘chillin'. Bubba dropped the crowd off at Whitney's Salvage, gave ol' Hugh Whitney a bottle of Jack, and $50, and told them he'd return in 72 hours.
Whitney's had been there forever.
Situated on the bluff, overlooking the marsh, it was a very elegant junkyard.
The visitors stayed in old trailers and campers, which were electrified, comfortable, and facing the most gorgeous sunset alive.
The hulks of some very classy old Detroit Iron were positioned carefully about the property. Barbecue pits were tended constantly, and there was a wooden walkway which led out to a tidepool.
Hugh Whitney tossed an onion bag filled with gurry and a few large rocks into the pool each day, at first high tide.
By low tide, when the water was only a few feet deep, and easily accessible, visitors waded in the tidepool, gathering crabs, fish, lobsters, and other goodies.
It weren't much, but Laura's crew loved it.
Laura wasn't from Aarrghh.
She'd simply stayed behind after one of the outings with her wild bunch.
Folks figgered that if she'd been smart enough to find Aarrghh, bring nice folks to spend their money, and then just send them away, so she could stay in peace, she must be O.K.
She was, for several years.
Then, as sudden as suddenly, she stopped being industrious, let her appearance lapse, and began performing the role of Village Beggar.
She never asked for much, but it had to come from the in your face, hand-to-mouth method she'd adopted.
Bubba decided that whatever she was up to, it was intentional.
She never asked him for anything. And she knew that he had taken quite a bit. Laura was about something.
Bubba was certain. It drove him batshit, not knowing what it was.
After stopping by the shop for a bracer, Bubba drove the ol' Chevy Pickup to Laura's shack.
The shack stood just outside the perimeter of Whitney's Salvage.
Ol' Hugh was too territorial to let her squat on his land, but, she had the only reasonable access to her place over his turf, and it set up a little higher, so the view was even better than that from the trailers.
Bubba drew alongside Hugh's porch, gave him the obligatory Jack and $50, and passed toward Laura's without exchanging a word.
Hugh was living in his own private dementia, and that was that.
Someday Bubba, or someone else, would drive up to the porch and Hugh would be Post Mortem in the rocker.
At least, if it happened today, he'd go with a smile on his mug, and half a yard in his pocket.
Laura was outside, bundled into piles of coats and sweaters, wearing several pairs of sweatpants. She was barefoot. It was about 40 degrees. There was mud and slush everywhere.
Her look, when she recognized Bubba, went from a purely joyful grin to a confused scowl, almost instantly.
Sadly, her face froze into the scowl before she could allow the joy to creep back in.
"Whatcha want, Bubba?"
"Hey now, Laura. Ya'll know anything about promotin' concepts? I recall hearin' you sayin' sumthin’ about promotin' concerts. That anything like the same?"
Laura laughed out loud, right through the scowl.
It seemed to startle her when she heard her own laughter.
Bubba looked straight into her eyes.
Ooops! He caught Laura looking girlish and happy.
This was either a great new beginning, or the continuation of extreme confusion. Only time would tell.
For today, Laura's discomfort at being caught in the act of joy, had ended any hope of furthering the Riparian Rights issue.
Bubba simply said, "Nice ta see ya'll. I come by to look in on ol' Hugh, and you were nearby. Later.", as he drove slowly away.
Laura returned to her scowling and puttering.
Her mind was racing, her heart aflutter. But, she let Bubba go.
He got back to the shop and asked Ernie if all was well.
Ernie responded in the affirmative.
The place could have been vanishing, board by board, in a hurricane, and Ernie's response would have remained positive.
Bubba often wished he could attain Ernie's state of mind.
While most considered ol' Ernie to be a little slow, and 'tetched in the haid', Bubba valued the composure with which Ernie faced life.
He was also a great dock jockey. Ernie invented Dinghy Dancin'.
Bubba had a few floats in the water, leading to the gas dock. The walkways and railings, heading to the floats, were surrendering to nature.
Ernie made his way out to the dock by stepping onto the siderails, and into several small dinghies along the way.
These narrow fishin' skiffs were as tippy as all get out. Ernie was a big guy.
The Dinghy Dance became a famous Aarrghh event, as others tried to walk the walk.
There were a few young kids who made it look like X-Games. But, Ernie was still the undisputed 'Stay Hi-Stay Dry' champ.
The kids splashed water everywhere.
Ernie barely allowed the boats to move as he skipped from rail to rail.
Plus, he was the only one Bubba allowed to touch the gas pump. So, he had a form of job security. Bubba felt that Ernie was a guy you'd always want on your side.
Bubba could feel the thinkin' come on.
It was so totally un-natural, and un-necessary to waste one precious moment lost in thought, while living in Aarrghh, that actual, essential thought, for a purpose, was almost painfully startling.
The brain would come back on, but the reception got fuzzier and fuzzier, more and more difficult to tune in.
There was little to be said for thinkin' among Aarrghites.
Right about then, Bubba decided to drive back out to Laura's. She could do the thinkin'.
Bubba figgered, "Being from 'away', she might still have the knack."
Laura did still have the knack.
In fact, she'd been doing the Village Beggar act in hopes of someone asking her to come up with a plan, rather than skulking around town, in tatters.
Bubba was unaware of Laura's exact intent, but he'd sensed something.
When he returned to the astounded Laura's shack, she was drunk on half the Jack Bubba had left with Hugh Whitney.
This time, she couldn't hide her joy.
She tossed off all but the ‘glued-on by bodily secretions’ T-Shirt, and a pair of silk Long-John's. These were pretty much a second skin on Laura.
Bubba gasped at the perfectly adorned body, actually blushed, and sat back onto his seat. Right there on Laura's front lawn.
He was floored.
Laura giggled, threw back her hair, and fell to the ground beside Bubba. She laughed outloud until every molecule of her being tingled.
"Concept Promotion, huh? What do you know about concept?"
Bubba grinned, and said, "Heard the word a few times. I know it means projecting thoughts into the public consciousness. Whatever that means."
Laura sat up, crossed her legs in front of her in a lotus positon, and slapped her hands on her thighs. "Can I do anything with a concept? Huh! Where you been hidin', Son? Hell, we bin' knowin' each other for over twelve years, never so much as beyond Hi, Fine, Nice ta see ya. Now were gonna do concept. Don't get a nose bleed over rushin' into things, Bubba."
"My good Lord, Laura, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You'll have to excuse my stammer. I need to concentrate for a few seconds.", Bubba stammered.
Laura had the bottle of Jack, with two good swallows left. She pretended to slug one down, but just took a sip before handing the rest to Bubba.
He drank it, and asked about Hugh.
"He's in happy-happy town, sleeping peacefully. We talked about the time I brought those bikers, with their Harley's, and a noise abatement rule got passed over Labor Day weekend. Hugh loved that one. He's dreaming about the babe we hooked him up with, trying to sway his vote. S.O.B. wouldn't play along, though. He resisted the unabashed, never challenged, Queen of the Trailer Hitch. Good ol' Hugh", Laura responded.
Bubba thought about Hugh's dream for a moment, and returned his attention to Laura. "Have you heard about this roadway to the mainland?", he asked.
"Yeah, if you folks don't get organized pretty damn quickly, we'll be fightin' over parkin' spaces within a year, or two. I don't want that, Bubba. I've tried to keep a very low profile here, but, in case ya'll didn't notice, the Beggar act started right about the time those suits came for a look-see. I been tryin' ta be among ya'll, lissenin."
"You're among us all, Laura. No-one considers you an outsider. What do you think would work?"
Laura scrunched up her nose, and said, "Well, I heard about the Riparian thing. Legally, you'd be makin' law. That's always tough. But, with you as 'the Riparian', and me as the spin doctor, they'll never get past the test borings. By the way, why are you the only person, other than Yours Truly, on this entire sandbar with good teeth? And, we'll talk about my outsiderness later."
Bubba chuckled and said, "I can't work on myself. I go all the way to Richmond twice a year for my dental work."
He then thought even more about the fact that he was the rich guy, with good teeth, a business, a valuable piece of property, and now, possibly, Laura as his...dare he think?...girlfriend.
Without further consideration, Bubba announced to Laura that she was in charge.
He would perform the role of 'Bubba the Riparian' exactly as she directed.
He said, "Girl, I have over $200,000 in liquid assets. There are 120 people livin’ out here. I'm going to give every single one of them $1000, even those in favor of the road gettin' built. That leaves me with $80,000, plus, the business, and the value of the property. If the road gets built, the property value will skyrocket. I'll sell and go lookin'. If it don't, I can still live here forever. I'm goin' whole hog for the not gettin' built plan."
Laura had a Big City flashback right then.
Was Bubba too good to be true? Or, was he as fake as the big time Wall Street/Rock 'n Roll guys? She thought, "Nah. I believe in the guy."
Laura asked, "What's this I hear about a causeway?"

To learn more about Bubba, and his crew, stay tuned...

Author's Note...there are four more completed segments following the one above. The five pieces, combined, are an intact piece. The current conclusion leaves a number of choices open to expand, and extend the tale ad infinitum.
ASAP, I'll put up a separate blog, with the complete text. Links will connect the two.
Try this. Editing in progress...
http://aarrghhtales.blogspot.com/