The reckoning is here now.
…and still no major actions to reverse this fossil fuel driven climate change…whether by this administration or 8 years of Obama.
Looks to me like unless we declare war on and are able to kill the fossil fuels and make them Dinosaurs soon, they will kill us all. One has to wonder what it will take before we are able to reverse this climate insanity!
It will be same old same old if Biden is the new president. Washington, DeCeit is a lock for the oligarchs and Wall Street. I heard from a political analyst once that no matter who gets the nomination for president in either party they have already sold their souls. Politics isn’t really about the “art of the compromise”. Not now. It is the art of selling out to special interests while appearing to care about the country’s welfare.
Well, would you look at that.
All those who were infectious disease experts (anti-mask) a month ago now have degrees in forest management (climate emergency deniers).
This is just the warm up band. The headliner takes the stage when glaciers in Antarctica collapse and sea level rises by feet over less than a year. I’m pretty sure they’re called “Refugee Crisis.”
Sitting on my beach of doom, watching the Great Unraveling accelerate.
Welcome to the new normal.
The feedback loops have started. Short of drastic action, taken by every nation in the world simultaneously, the third decade of the 20th century will be marked as the beginning of the end of the age of Man.
We may see a refugee crisis here in the USA long before many others, as it’s already been said that much of the gulf coast, from Florida to Texas, will have to be evacuated by 2050 due to sea level rise.
Or like I have said before: “PRESIDENTS ARE SELECTED LONG…BEFORE THEY ARE ELECTED!”
Darkness at Noon – a familiar phrase because it’s the best known novel from a halfway decent writer, Arthur Koestler. That’s what we have in the Bay Area today, as if we all woke up inside someone’s sepia-tone daguerreotype. Oddly, it’s not the worst day for air quality down here on the surface, while the density of orange-tinted smoke particles at 3 thousand feet is overwhelming. Also, the bizarre weather condition muffles sound – It’s quiet outside (an oddity next to the Bay Bridge Maze).
The thickness of the high smoke blanket varies wildly, minute by minute. It can be very dark, like night, then a weird orange-light district disco glow, and then dark again, all in the space of an hour. Much of this smoke is blowing down from the Bear Fire, a component of a lightning complex which has been burning for weeks, now supercharged by diablo winds and licking its chops for Oroville. Probably taking my brother’s house, on its way.
From the ghost of Chief Seattle:
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.[emphasis mine]
Thinking of you and Fern and hoping safety on your behalf.
I would suggest that the 2050 timeline is a bit too hopeful.
One big Thwaites glacier collapse and bye-bye:
Thanks for your concern. Right here in the core of metropolis I’m not in the crosshairs like friends and relatives north of me (a lot of them, Jesus!), some are getting evacuation orders, others are getting their power shut off. Bad air-quality due to smoke has been with us for three weeks solid now, so we’re not running any marathons anytime soon.
A huge part of the problem for everyone, as things seriously unravel like this, is the concurrence of problems – too many problems all at the same time. Compared to previous outbreaks of wildfire incidents, the sources we check for updates are having a very hard time just keeping up in 2020. The first week of dry lightning, we saw 12,000 strikes.
A growing part of the problem for me is emotional/visual. Long before I ever considered devoting some energy to writing, I had a self-image as a painter, photographer, and graphic artist. How things look, the appearance of things, the quality of the light, is almost hardwired into my most visceral flashpoints. I didn’t expect the loss of daylight to have such a severe emotional effect on me. Fits of surprisingly violent despair keep sneaking up. Out strolling in the deserted dog-park this morning, under this extraterrestrial sky, I kept throwing out my arms and sob-chuckling like mad King Lear.
Another thing I’m seeing lately: a lot more bird carcasses than usual. I hope this awful smoke isn’t killing too many birds.
Just shy of 600 miles north of you, here in Corvallis, Oregon, we’re enduring that same scene you’ve depicted, the sky varying shades of yellow, orange, bordering on red at times, with ash blowing like a snowstorm, covering everything . . . and it’s forecast to last another week, at least.
Can’t help but think of the lyrics from Three Dog Night’s ‘Out In The Country’ . . . “Before the breathin’ air is gone … before the Sun is a just a bright spot in the nighttime.”
Literally the entire Western U.S. is on fire and not in the figurative sense of literally. By the way, that isn’t cloud cover off the West Coast. Those are smoke plumes combining into one mega-smoke cloud.
— Alisha Grauso (@AlishaGrauso) [September 9, 2020]
I’m a few miles west of you. I haven’t seen this much ash since Mount St. Helens erupted. And I don’t remember ever seeing so much orange sky and gagging air quality.