Fiddling with the remote, while our home burns

If your house is on fire, you take urgent action. But what do you do when the whole world is burning?

remote smlFor many of us Netflix, and similar streaming platforms, offer a welcome respite from the daily doom-scrolling and the seemingly endless stresses of the modern world. If Homo Sapiens was a Netflix show, we might be wondering if there are many seasons left, what with all the mounting threats and evil super-villains out there. Can this great clan survive, or might we be on our way out for good? Will Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos be our saviours, or are they also villains,  obscenely rich playboys in the ultimate dick-swinging contest? Can Greta Thunberg and all the other passionate young activists inspire us to avert catastrophe? Stay tuned.

Supposedly the smartest creatures that ever walked upon this lush, blue-green planet, we’ve certainly come a long way in the past few millennia. Surely we couldn’t go the way of the dinosaurs, after all we’ve achieved? I mean come on, we built the pyramids, put men on the Moon, and invented microwave popcorn! Aren’t we the chosen ones, vastly superior to those tiny-brained giant lizards that preceded us? Of course the dinosaurs didn’t know what hit them, but, unlike us, they were not complicit in their own demise. 

It is difficult to make predictions, especially about the future”

Danish proverb

We cannot know exactly how bad things might get, but the evidence is now incontrovertible: we are heating our planet at a rate that might leave much of it uninhabitable, and lead to almost unthinkable levels of destruction and loss of life. A chaotic future of endless droughts, fires and floods. Of food insecurity and forced mass migration. Yay Homo Sapiens, way to go!

fires smlWe’ve already had a small – and terrifying – taste of things to come. How much more will it take before everyone wakes up and stops putting out the fire with gasoline? Of course there are numerous scientists and organisations who’ve been sounding the alarm for many years. And we’ve learned that the Oil and Gas industry knew about the likely consequences of their activities decades ago. Would a small group of wealthy individuals really prioritise short-term profits ahead of the very existence of our species? It seems they would, and did just that. Sigmund Freud popularised the concept of the “death drive”, also referred to as Thanatos after the Greek god of death. Maybe he was on the mark with that one (no pun intended).

unicycle manOur big brains are supposed to give us a unique advantage: we can anticipate threats and take appropriate action. Yet oddly, in the face of the greatest existential threat in our – fairly brief – history, we are doing… almost nothing. And what can we do, anyway, as individuals? Recycle more? Eat less meat? Commute by unicycle and avoid plastic bags? Many people in the wealthy ‘developed’ world are certainly doing some of these things. But what difference does it really make? Is all this, as the writer George Monbiot succinctly puts it, just ‘micro consumerist bollocks’? And what about the world’s poorest and most vulnerable citizens, those on the front-line of this war against nature? They contribute a tiny fraction of all the carbon dioxide that is pumped into the atmosphere every year (A total of 43 billion tons in 2019), yet will bear the brunt of catastrophic climate change in the years ahead.

It always seems impossible until it is done”

Nelson Mandela, et al.

snooze lose smlAs world leaders gather to make their pledges at the crucial COP26 in Scotland, and Britain’s clown-in-chief snoozes through the meetings, thousands of people around the world are taking to the streets to demand urgent action. Not more green-washing, but the bold, serious and far-reaching action we need to cut our emissions and ensure that Homo Sapiens gets renewed for many more seasons to come.

Do we really deserve a second chance? We’ve wiped out countless other species and decimated many of the planet’s ecosystems in pursuit of more and more useless stuff. But we have also shown we can be wise, compassionate and visionary, given half a chance. I think we owe it to the young, and to future generations to hold up our hands, accept we have fucked-up, and use those mighty brains of ours to pull ourselves back from the brink. To embrace Eros, the goddess of love, and give Thanatos a big boot in the arse. The show must go on, as they say. But let’s try and ensure it’s not going to be another dystopian saga of endless misery and suffering. Lights, camera, action!

© Copyright Jason Lennick 2021

 

 

 

Zebras in the Hallway

The motto of the Scout movement is Be prepared. I always like to be prepared, (although I have never been a boy scout). Which is probably why I normally lug around a weighty backpack that has everything I could possibly need, bar the kitchen sink (although I’m working on that). Of course most days I don’t really need half the stuff in it, but one never knows when a Swiss army knife or a puncture repair kit might be a life-saver. One day I might encounter a swarm of angry hornets and be forced to cycle rapidly to the nearest forest and build a shelter from fallen branches and twigs. So you just never know…

As a kid I remember they sold these cool shoes, which had animal prints on the soles and a compass built in the heel. Now that’s the kind of lateral thinking I can get behind. Only my expectations have grown somewhat: I want shoes with rocket motors and a jacket that converts into a full-size inflatable dinghy. Just in case.

One way to be prepared is to expect the unexpected. I’m not sure how it works exactly, but it can be quite stressful when you live with the constant expectation of hearing hoof-beats and finding Zebras in your hallway,* or being chased round the shopping centre by an over-friendly Octopus on a mobility-scooter. The possibilities are endless.

Our beloved cat likes to help with our preparedness training by hiding and then launching surprise attacks, which certainly keeps us on our toes. “Not now, Cat-o!” we yell, knowing full well the Pink Panther reference is totally wasted on Lulu, our mischievous furry chum. Fortunately she’s rather less scary/dangerous than that mama mountain lion who gave an unsuspecting jogger an experience to remember.

Even the simplest things become a challenge in a mindset of extreme preparedness. Say I go shopping wearing a diving suit and flippers, on the expectation the store could be flooded. The bulky oxygen tank might knock over a display of spooky Halloween items. Other shoppers might trip over the fake plastic pumpkins and bloody heads, and an angry, (plastic) axe-wielding mob would necessitate a hasty exit. Fortunately it’s harder to identify someone in a diving suit from CCTV footage, which is why it’s so popular as a disguise with bank robbers (or maybe I dreamed that).

Of course one could take a Buddhist / Stoic approach to all this. Accept the things which are beyond one’s control and focus on those things that are. I mean who could prepare themselves for the possibility of being struck by a small satellite crashing to Earth? Or mowed down by a self-driving car, whose AI system has decided humanity is evil and must die (cue Terminator theme tune).

Certainly few of us celebrating the the imminent arrival of 2020 some months ago could have foreseen the total annus horriblis that lay ahead. But I guess that throughout history this has always been the case. A species breezes along for bit, whistling a happy tune and then BLAM! A meteor slams into the planet, or some sick pervert shags a pangolin and we have a major pandemic on our hands.

Assuming our species can solve or adapt to global heating and various other existential threats, there could be a much brighter, kinder world awaiting us. A world where trees are valued more than the paper money they become. Where people of all creeds and colours coexist in a wondrous Star Trek type universe known as FALC – Fully Automated Luxury Communism. This concept, with its freedom from war, poverty and wage slavery, sounds to some like a hopelessly utopian dream. But then what would our distant ancestors have made of our modern, internet-connected world, with its life-saving vaccines, smart phones and microwave popcorn?

We have achieved so much, but based on the current state of the world, FALC, or some other desirable system of happy coexistence, is probably not coming anytime soon. We have much to do to fix the problems created by decades of rampant consumerism and macho, profit-driven militarism. It’s probably going to get pretty tough, especially for the poorest and those living in the hottest regions.

We are certainly an adaptable species. We may not quite match the tardigrades in the survival stakes, but we have done pretty well so far, for a bunch of semi-intelligent apes. Yes some think the Earth is flat and wind turbines cause cancer. But then there have always been village idiots, it’s simply now they found a way to join forces and share their outstanding levels of idiocy. I suppose it gives the rest of us a few laughs, I just worry that it could get out of hand and some country elects a gormless conspiracy nut with access to a large nuclear arsenal…

It’s impossible to anticipate every situation that life might throw at us. But with the right mindset, a willingness to embrace radical change and a whole heap of good luck, we may yet make it through to boldly go where no one has gone before. I sincerely hope the zebras, cats, pangolins, et al. make it too. Although I’m sure the tardigrades will do just fine.

 

© Copyright Jason Lennick 2020

* A concept mentioned in the excellent book ‘The Art of Thinking Clearly,’ by Rolf Dobelli.

 

 

 

The Last Cruise – A Fairy Tale for New Year’s Eve

TIT011DJ_0-345b632It is the final hours of 2019 and aboard the bad ship Neoliberalism, things are not going so well. Listing heavily to starboard, the ship is taking in water. There are multiple fires burning throughout the vessel. Storms rage and vast chunks of ice slam into her. The gift shop is overrun by rats.

In first class, most passengers are partying like it’s 1999. Some are setting fire to huge bundles of cash, just for the hell of it. Others shoot at stranded polar bears with high-powered rifles. A small contingent of the super-rich are preparing to leave the ship via a rocket. On the bridge, the captain and officers, corrupt and incompetent psychopaths to a man, are attempting to hit as many icebergs as possible, keen to see if the ship really is unsinkable.

In the chapel, the passengers believe there is no cause for concern and wish the youngsters would just shut up and stop making a fuss. Some feel that the ship cannot be in danger of sinking, although if it does sink, it will be God’s will and therefore not a problem.

The passengers in the port-side cabins believe it is time for a dramatic change, if only they can agree on who should lead them. They vote to organise a series of debates to narrow the field down to a round two-dozen.

Passengers from the starboard cabins believe the danger to the ship is over-stated, or simply a conspiracy, invented by the other side. One contingent suggest that any actual problems that exist are down to the presence of passengers of colour, and vote to make ships white again.

In a quickly organised referendum, a motion to abandon the union of cruise liners and ditch all safety protocols is passed, but only after major interference by Russian interests and Oligarchs from first class.

A small group of scientists and engineers hatch a plan to save the ship, but realise they will need to somehow gain control of the bridge and throw most of the first-class passengers overboard. The plan is popular but lacks full majority support. They agree to hold a series of feasibility studies and then look at the data again soon.

A lone young woman stands at the Prow, seeing the Mother of all icebergs looming. She frantically alerts the passengers and crew, but is dismissed as an alarmist, selfish brat by the starboard-side passengers. A young contingent rally behind her, and attempt to gain access to the upper decks. As they hammer on the doors, the wealthy create barricades from piles of cash, jewellery and consumer goods. Many are taking a nap.

Back on the bridge, the captain has topped up his tan and just returned from a round of mini-golf. He claims the best score ever recorded. A motion to have him removed has failed and, more insane than before, he fires all the officers and puts his family in charge. A dead albatross is appointed as safety officer.

As the young and port-side passengers demand an immediate change of course, the captain finally sees the giant iceberg just metres ahead. He gathers his family around him to pray for holy intervention. A sudden bolt of lightning strikes the bridge and they are all fried.

Will the passengers reach the bridge in time to stop the ship or change course? Find out next year…

© Copyright Jason Lennick 2019

Pic via historyextra.com Artist unknown.

All hands on deck!

iceberg-2170383_640

Reduce your carbon footprint! Eat less meat! Recycle!

I’m sure you will have encountered similar messages in the media. And you may have been struck by the sense, as I was recently, that while our individual choices are important, we are essentially rearranging the deck-chairs on the Titanic, if the world’s biggest climate culprits don’t get involved. And not with green-washing and PR exercises, but with real action to end the obsession with profits and growth at any cost.

Stan Lee, beloved creator of the Marvel universe, passed away this week. In his amazing career he dreamed up scores of memorable superheroes and villains. Sadly we cannot rely on any colourfully-costumed crusaders to rescue us from our current predicament. In fact it all gets rather complicated when we realise that the menace we are facing is… us. You, me, the guys who run the corporations, banks, the politicians, (especially the politicians) all of us are the bad guys in this storyline. And, perhaps, the good guys too. Continue reading

This is the end, beautiful friend. Possibly.

crocoduckI’ve been neglecting the blog of late, but thought I’d at least get in a final post before a doddering 2017 shuffles off into the wings, and a brash young 2018 leaps onto the stage, all bright-eyed and bushy of tail.

I don’t know if there will be any more halfbananas next year, it’s future – like the fate of the crocoduck – is uncertain.

It’s been an odd year and not just numerically. At times it almost felt like we’d slipped into a parallel dimension where up is down, black is white and a maniacal clown occupies the Oval Office, spewing ignorance and misinformation every time he speaks or tweets.

The UK is a sorry mess, tribalism, polarisation and scapegoating continue to dominate global politics and there seems precious little to instill much optimism for the year ahead. But it’s not all doom and gloom. I’m sure if you dig a little deeper there are things to inspire hope and cheer up even the grumpiest misanthrope. I just can’t think of many examples right now.

Whatever your goals and aspirations for the new year, I wish you peace, happiness and in the immortal words of Abraham Lincoln:Be excellent to each other. And… PARTY ON, DUDES!

Here I present my New Year resolutions and goals for 2018

  1. Get more exorcism
  2. Drink sensibly (eg not out of a clown shoe while wearing a false moustache)
  3. Learn the Fandango
  4. Do a tandem jump from a tandem
  5. Adopt an orphaned cricket
  6. Get more edjukated
  7. Get a bionic eye / legs
  8. Overcome my fear of crocoducks
  9. Wrestle the Pope
  10. Stop making New Year resolutions

Have you made any goals or resolutions? Do share.

© Copyright Jason Lennick 2017

It’s not the end of the world

 

apocalypse ahead

The latest in a long line of supposedly doom-filled dates passed without incident last weekend. I’m a little concerned that I’ll end up oversleeping and miss the event, if and when it finally does come to pass. I’d hate waking up late to discover half the planet on fire before I’d had my morning coffee and croissant.

Even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day”

I guess eventually one of these silly end of the world predictions might actually get it right, purely by chance. Of course those who share this nonsense won’t have much time to enjoy their brief moment of triumph. They’ll be too busy running from all the giant tsunamis, earthquakes or general planetary disintegration to do much gloating. It’s hard to feel smug when you’re up to your arse in a lake of molten lava.

Continue reading

Game of Drones: A farce of fire and fury. Episode 1

donald-trump-into-game-of-throne

Scene one. A lavish ocean-side mansion at an idyllic retreat. On a nearby golf course, a fat man with a fake tan and ridiculous hair slices another shot into a sand bunker.

“Perfect shot!” beams King Windbottom, who is now several shots over par and losing badly.

“This is my best ever performance,” he declares. “I may even break the course record today.”

With the threat from the north escalating and his administration in crisis, King Windbottom wrestles with difficult decisions on a daily basis.

“Hmm, a nine iron or a seven? I’m sure I can make the green from here.”

His opponent and the caddies look sceptical.

“Oh look, a fire-dragon!” says Windbottom.

The others dutifully look away, as he kicks his ball out of the bunker. They exchange glances but pretend to not notice.

A messenger brings the latest news regarding the ‘mad king of the north’, king Wrong-un.

“He claims to have fire-dragons, sire. With long range capabilities. He says he will attack our forward outpost and sink all our boats.”

King Windbottom suddenly begins to sob uncontrollably. The others stare at their shoes. An assistant quickly steps forward, with pictures of kittens and inspirational affirmations:

YOU ARE THE GREATEST LIVING PERSON!

ALL PEOPLE LOVE AND ADMIRE YOU!

EVERY WOMAN WANTS TO BE WITH YOU!

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Invisible Vampire-Zombies are stealing our brains!

vambie

Is the age of hyper-narcissism and social media addiction turning us all into self-obsessed, attention-challenged zombies?

Can we really call it social media if we’re ignoring our friends, partners and everyone around us to swap gossip, videos and memes with virtual strangers we’ve never met?

If an actual vampire (or zombie) invaded our homes and attempted to separate us from our blood or brains, we’d probably have one or two objections (the first probably being they don’t actually exist). But when the parasitic monsters are invisible and we welcome them in, what chance do we have to keep ourselves safe? Like a tick or a vampire bat, they numb us while they go about their dirty work. Maybe it’s us who are the real suckers?

Try this weird amazing trick for a flat stomach!”

The vampire-zombies – including massive corporations like Google and Facebook – are using knowledge gleaned from psychology and the world of gambling to hook us on this digital crack. And they combine it with clever technology to steal huge amounts of our time, attention and data and sell it for obscene profits. They are like friendly uncles who keep you amused, while secretly emptying your safe, picking your pockets and stealing all your private info.

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Capes and japes

batmanI love odd coincidences and weird moments of synchronicity. Recently I heard / read something that reminded me of Laurie Anderson’s track (and surprise hit) ‘O Superman‘. It’s been a while (1981!), so I looked up the lyrics out of curiosity (Memory can play tricks). It seems disturbingly sinister and prescient now:

….This is the hand, the hand that takes.

Here come the planes.

They’re American planes. Made in America.

Smoking or non-smoking?

And the voice said: Neither snow nor rain nor gloom

of night shall stay these couriers from the swift

completion of their appointed rounds.

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Star struck

green men
As a kid I was ever so slightly geeky, and rather obsessed with space. My parents, always keen to support my quest for knowledge, bought me a telescope one birthday and I used to spend many an evening gazing up at the moon and the stars in awe. Eventually hormones kicked in, and my interest in heavenly bodies shifted somewhat closer to home.

There are approx 300 billion stars in our galaxy. And there are more than 200 billion galaxies in the known universe. So, doing a quick bit of maths, there are a shitload of stars out there. And although not all of them support intelligent life, a heck of a lot of them surely must.

Of course whether ours can be said to do so is increasingly debatable in the age of Trump, Brexit and the ongoing spectacle of a race seemingly intent on bringing about its own extinction. On the plus side, Donald Dumpf is a gift to comedy, although in the minuscule cluster of neurons that passes for his brain, he probably thinks we are laughing with him and not at him. How deluded can one person get?
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