A few years back, my mate Bryony brought her new beau Adrian, an environmental advocate, around for lunch. I’ll never forget it. By the time he left I’d abandoned plans for dinner, resigned as I was to the prospect of the earth being incinerated by then. The afternoon of pleasantries I’d looked forward to (a few beers, few laughs, bit of idle chat), descended into an apocalyptic hell when I mentioned casually: “Bryony tells me you’re a climate activist. Interesting. My jury’s still out on that issue.” It was, partly because of conflicting reports I’d read in ‘reputable’ journals, partly because my then 41 year old self, with his twin toddlers, fun career and new home in a tinder dry, Eucalypt-heavy suburb, didn’t want to believe we’d managed to screw a four billion year old planet in little more than a century and a half. Anyway, I’d not only waved a red flag at a bull, I’d removed gloves and smacked them over its snout. According to Adrian, the horse hadn’t bolted, but the gate was well and truly pried open, and he had a host of unnerving stats to back his stance. Given I wanted to just drink beer and talk shit, it seriously ‘harshed’ my mellow. I thought about Bryony’s ex, a slightly awkward American who made a living selling quirky, collectible vinyl, and the boyfriend before him, a slightly awkward Australian who listened to a lot of quirky, collectible vinyl, and wished to God Adrian was a bit more awkward and a lot more into quirky, collectible vinyl. “Shit, man, it all sounds pretty full on,” I remember interrupting him, half way through a run down of essential survival shelter items. “Hey, what kind of music do you like?” Within weeks, I not only understood what Bryony saw in Adrian (intelligence, passion, warmth, humour even), my once swaying jury had reached its verdict: global warming is a runaway train, and while people like Adrian know how to apply the brakes, industry backed climate denialists have wedged a plank down on the accelerator and barricaded the driver door. And guess who was strapped to the tracks a few kilometres up the road? That’s right, us. And THEM, ironically, although THEY are mostly well-heeled, heavy industry backed ignoramuses content to enjoy the now and screw the future. How’s that for over the top hyperbole? Gotta love Facebook! I raise this topic after learning that Tony Abbott is not only scrapping the carbon tax, he’s quashing two independent climate change bodies vital for keeping Australia posted on global warming. It smacks of Big Brother, not the Channel 9 ratings juggernaut, but George Orwell’s sadly prescient novel, famous for the quote: “He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present, controls the past.” Abbott wants to wipe the present debate, either genuinely convinced humans have no hand in global warming, or so indebted to big business he’s obliged to push that line. He’ll get away with it too, because most Australians find the likes of Adrian Whitehead, whose fledgling Save The Planet party aspires to lower house and upper house seats at the next state election, decidedly unpalatable. Climate deniers like Andrew Bolt and Ian Plimer are far more appetising; ie “Don’t be alarmed, it’s all a green conspiracy”. Bolt, in particular, preaches from such an influential soapbox - and with such conviction – that he must be right, surely? Coz if he’s wrong, we might have to rethink the pool spa, the six-cylinder engine, the five bathrooms, even the clothes dryer. And that would suck! Look, I’m no poster boy for the green movement. I have one- minute showers, generally peg clothes out and would switch Sammy’s night-light off if he didn’t crack it, but I’m no Steve Lightfoot, a mate who cycles EVERYWHERE, or Martin Homberger, who won’t buy interstate goods, let alone international products. Nor am I well versed on this issue (I was a poor to middling science student). But I’m no idiot. When 90-plus percent of the world’s scientists agree we’re on a hiding to nowhere, surely affirmative action is a no-brainer? As Adrian puts it: “How can you refute the irrefutable?” Even if there’s only a 10 percent chance of the earth burning up, is that not sufficient to apply the brakes, or at least maintain a commission or two? I’ve got a theory. Tony Abbott is a devout Catholic. Devout Catholics believe in heaven, a place (one assumes) where every day is like LA - without the smog, crap architecture and obesity. I reckon Abbott envisions his name on St Peter’s list and thinks things won’t get too bad before he shuffles off. But he’d better watch himself, lest decisions as PM lead him to a place much, much hotter than the earth will be in 100 years. In the mean time, consider Adrian Whitehead’s Save The Planet party at the next state election, to help keep the bastards honest and the species alive for a bit longer. He mightn’t be the funniest bloke at the dinner party, but what he’s devoting his life to is no laughing matter.
Posted on: Thu, 19 Sep 2013 10:35:53 +0000
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