Dita Parker

Friday, September 13, 2019

Fridays with Greta

I’ve been taking walks to say goodbye to a patch of forest and the wildlife that inhabit it. Come spring, we’ll have to find another patch to meet up in because that one will have been razed, covered in concrete and steel, and occupied by humans, their pet animals and the odd house plant.

Speaking of which, hubby the green thumb has been hoarding plants. And we already have house plants. Many, many plants. Not that they don’t make our home more livable now that we’re moving indoors, but if summer is awash with light, the winter is long and dark, and those plants won’t make it without some help from their human helpers. It’s just that…indoor grow lights aren’t the most pretty of lamps, and the best ones will make your home look like a drug den with their violet glow, and I don’t want every room in the house to have that wavelength and vibe, but that’s where we’re headed if Mr. Green Thumb doesn’t calm the hell down.

But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, and if this girl wants tropical plants in the Arctic, she has to put up with a certain amount of crack den chic. (The neighbors have spotted those lights. And we have a green house. You bet everyone has asked to take a tour. “So what you got in there?” Meaning: Is this actually a cannabis cultivation facility? Because that’s what one of them joking not joking said he thought it was. Sorry to burst your bubble. Would you have wanted some? And, above all, do we strike you as the kind of people who would?)

[Apparently. Oldest son sat in my car in an empty parking lot chatting with a friend. Too late at night and too long for a police patrol’s liking. They tap the window and ask if all is well. I kid you not, that boy is a cool cat. Too cool for the officer’s liking. They ended up having a staring contest, the officer breaking it to ask, “Are you high, son?” They wouldn’t take his word for it, that too relaxed young man, so they took a saliva test, which my son was happy to give since he was in perfect driving condition. Oh man, I had to laugh when he told me the whole story. I know how irritating and, yeah, probably iffy his unflappable demeanor may seem to those who don’t know him.]

And on the matter of unflappable adults of the future, another big climate strike march is coming up on September 20. (It’s actually a whole week of action.) Have you noticed how (forget the trash-talking loudmouths) numerous people in high places with the megaphone to match applaud Greta Thunberg, how fearless she is speaking truth to power, and how we should all be listening? And then? So you’ve heard her. So you admire and respect what she is doing and trying to achieve. And then? Are you going to…put your money where your golden tongue is? Take action? Do anything she proposes citizens, cities, countries, the globe do?


The Fridays For Future movement, or Extinction Rebellion, they’re not just about the future, the fate of our children and grandchildren, generations we’ll never get to meet. The future is here and it’s already a disaster. It’s a draught in Australia, a hurricane wiping Bahamian communities off the face off the earth, flash floods across Europe, forest fires burning for weeks in Siberia, the destruction of the Amazon. And, dearest denizens, when enough of a primary, old-growth rainforest is gone, there is no going back. The forest enters a cycle of self-destruction humans incited but have no means to stop.

You may have not felt the effects for yourself. Doesn’t mean it’s not happening to someone somewhere. You know that. And believe what you want, deny the climate crisis all you want, but do take time to educate yourself on why scientists believe the crisis is real and coming to you from every corner of the planet. It applies everywhere and affects everyone. Telling genuinely panicky children and young people to sit down, shut up and stop worrying is like saying fuck you, your concerns and your future. Shutting down the adults of tomorrow, stripping them of hope, the current state of things and message we are sending, is a big fat fuck you very much.

We can buy solar panels, electric cars and renewable energy, reuse, refuse, recycle, reduce food waste, take a hundred different steps and measures to help the planet heal. But that will only take us so far. We need to put pressure on the big spenders and polluters. Reject and replace governments and officials that treat the climate emergency as a “niche issue” (as Trump’s did going into the G7 summit). Stir up corners that pretend they live on a different planet altogether and don’t know what we’re talking about. (Yes, Russia, I mean you.) Stop dabbling and get cracking.


At the top of the food chain, the only way is down. Every link we remove reduces our chances of survival. It’s not just a matter of a flood here, a hurricane there, a blazing or razed forest someplace else. This is a matter of eventually running out of food and fresh water, losing a hospitable environment. Tamper with Gaia, pay the price. 


Mother Nature is not cruel by nature, she is just perfunctory. If we act like pests, she’ll treat us accordingly, because in her eyes we’re not the crown jewel of creation, we are but one part of the puzzle she is trying to keep intact. If removing us from the equation will restore balance then that’s the fate that awaits us. Except fate is the wrong word. We will have chosen that road ourselves.

Too defeatist for your taste? But, sweetie darling, this has nothing to do with fate. We're not borrowing from the future. We're stealing as fast as we can with both hands while flipping the bird. In that sense, acting so senselessly, if we keep at it, we are doomed.

This concludes today’s sermon.

I wish you a good weekend, peace of mind, and determination.

Behave.

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