ringo writes:
Omnivorous writes:
... and the old know they'll be dead before it does.
To be honest, that was my first thought.
My maternal grandmother died at 107. We fought tooth and nail for decades because she was a hard, harsh woman with no use for me. At 100, she was hospitalized for the first time with a broken hip. She emerged a changed woman, sweet natured, charming, still sharp as a tack. I remarked at the time that if we lived long enough, we'd all become good.
I still vote, protest, donate and attempt persuasion in defense of this amazing blue-green world; but I also take a fugitive relief from being too old to see the worst of what is coming.
And I comfort myself with that last refuge of the despairing, a cosmic perspective: the swelling sun, the Big Rip, the Big Crunch, the Big Freeze, the wandering black hole, the X we don't see coming at the speed of light...
Everything dies, and the death of an old man (or planet or universe) is no tragedy.
But the unnecessary, premature destruction of beauty is about as close as this old pagan hippie comes to a definition of sin. When our planet reaps the whirlwind, those who sowed it with greed and denial will be long gone. Maybe if they knew they'd live long enough to suffer consequences...
In the meantime, I argue and advocate for measures that make sense on their own merits, often economic ones, because the denial has become nearly impenetrable and becomes more so when directly challenged.
To paraphrase Chandler, the deadliest traps are the ones we lay for ourselves. This one is a doozy.
"If you can keep your head while those around you are losing theirs, you can collect a lot of heads."