tonight i finally finished a massive article about how bad and rapid climate change is, and honestly, i could've just listened to the intro from extinction level event and been all set.
although there's one part that jumped out at me... but first... a brief ad...
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that's it.
Our present eeriness cannot last.
So why can’t we see it? In his recent book-length essay The Great Derangement, the Indian novelist Amitav Ghosh wonders why global warming and natural disaster haven’t become major subjects of contemporary fiction — why we don’t seem able to imagine climate catastrophe, and why we haven’t yet had a spate of novels in the genre he basically imagines into half-existence and names “the environmental uncanny.” “Consider, for example, the stories that congeal around questions like, ‘Where were you when the Berlin Wall fell?’ or ‘Where were you on 9/11?’ ” he writes. “Will it ever be possible to ask, in the same vein, ‘Where were you at 400 ppm?’ or ‘Where were you when the Larsen B ice shelf broke up?’ ” His answer: Probably not, because the dilemmas and dramas of climate change are simply incompatible with the kinds of stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, especially in novels, which tend to emphasize the journey of an individual conscience rather than the poisonous miasma of social fate.
earlier tonight on my stories i went on like a ten part break down of the romanticizing and normalcy of empire in media/American narrative... and like, this quote above just gets me with that presumptuous WE.
i'm sick of this IT'S JUST A BIG MYSTERY WHY types of bullshit
NPR is state controlled media
and
do willfully complacent fools still want to live to be a 100 if it's Soylent Green realities outside?
i want to temporarily transcend my own limits of consciousness soon, you know?
how have you been doing?
signed,
monk