Climate catastrophist Bill McKibben is out with a new book
(presumably much like his others) titled Eaarth: Making a
Life on a Tough New Planet, which USA Today
in all seriousness describes
as “a dire, frightening call to action. It talks about
the planet melting, drying, acidifying, flooding and burning in
heretofore unseen ways.”
The
formerly mainstream media lavishes attention on the
environoiacs at every opportunity, and in so doing
marginalizes the integrity of their own reporting. I can’t think
of a better example of this than McKibben:
“The world hasn’t ended, but the world as we know it has —
even if we don’t quite know it yet,” [McKibben] writes. “It’s a
different place. A different planet. It needs a new name.”
Since it’s earth-like, he says, let’s call it “Eaarth.”
Why the additional “a?” I don’t know. Is it because Earth
needs a form of planetary Maalox
to alleviate the acidity?
(I’m not making this up. After finishing this paragraph my
8-year-old pointed at the screen and said, “Dad, you spelled
‘Earth’ wrong — [moving his finger down] — two times.”)
It seems here McKibben wants to convey a moaning, painful sound,
so additional “r’s” were probably more appropriate — “Urrrrth.”
Sort of like “ouuuch!”
It wasn’t long ago (December) when we saw McKibben
at church in Copenhagen, where he shared
his mournful thoughts in a blog post for Mother
Jones:
This afternoon I sobbed for an hour, and I’m still choking
a little….my tears started before anyone said a word. As the
service started, dozens choristers from around the world
carried three things down the aisle and to the altar: pieces of
dead coral bleached by hot ocean temperatures; stones uncovered
by retreating glaciers; and small, shriveled ears of corn from
drought-stricken parts of Africa. As I watched them go by, all
I could think of was the people I’ve met in the last couple of
years traveling the world: the people living in the valleys
where those glaciers are disappearing, and the people
downstream who have no backup plan for where their water is
going to come from. The people who live on the
islands surrounded by that coral, who depend on
the reefs for the fish they eat, and to protect their homes
from the waves. And the people, on every corner of the world,
dealing with drought and flood, already unable to earn their
daily bread in the places where their ancestors farmed for
generations.
Those damned shriveled ears of corn. I’ve done everything I
can think of, and millions of people around the world have
joined us at 350.org in the most international campaign there
ever was. But I just sat there thinking: It’s not enough. We
didn’t do enough. I should have started earlier. People are
dying already; people are sitting tonight in their small homes
trying to figure out how they’re going to make the maize meal
they have stretch far enough to fill the tummies of the kids
sitting there waiting for dinner. And that’s with 390 parts per
million CO2 in the atmosphere.
The 350 in 350.org represents the target amount of carbon dioxide
that
“scientists say” is the maximum safe level to maintain, well,
the kind of planet that advocates like McKibben want you to live
in. It would be wonderful amusement if it was only the likes of
USA Today that took him seriously, but
unfortunately too many in government want to regulate our lives
based upon views like his.
