COP 27? One big cop-out, more like!
by Pseud O'Nym
I know I haven’t posted here in a while, but this is due some good reasons and a less good reason. In the former category are two week long holidays by the sea, while in the latter is the fact I’ve been feeling suicidally depressed.
Not that I want to commit suicide I hasten to add but rather that what depresses me most is that others haven’t.
Some of them are handily gathered at COP 27. I thought it’d all packed up and gone home, everyone clutching their macrame goody bags and brimming with an invigorated sense of superior self-righteousness but no, they’re still there, all 35,000 of them, earnestly discussing how something needs to be done by someone else to avoid something no-one wants. To do anything about if all of the previous COP conferences are anything to go by. I mean, has anything substantial been achieved, other than some politicians getting selfies with film stars? Yes, there’ve been protocols and agreements, fine speeches and urgent calls for action but the last time I checked things getting worse.
Thats what makes me mad, the fact that people in a position to do anything about it didn’t and instead of advocating for necessary changes that might slow the rate of climate change, rather sought to discredit the science they knew to be true – mainly because they’d commissioned it themselves – and argued for an increase of the things they knew to be causing climate change. When exactly ‘Big Oil’ knew is a matter of opinion. Some say 1959. Others go with sometime in the 60’s. The more charitable go with 1977.
Back to COP 27, They’ve been having one of these sandal summits every year sine 1992. Did you know that? I didn’t. And I don’t know what the point of this one is either, apart from young people claiming hey’ve been denied a future that is. A future which, thanks to their parents wilful selfishness in having them in the first place, is growing increasingly uncertain. So whilst doing something, cutting down on doing something else and stopping doing something else altogether is all well good, consuming less still involves consuming. As I’ve said many times before on this blog, the earths human population is far too big. We need a cull, let’s say at age 70, because if you haven’t achieved everything you want to achieve by then, you’re never going to. Knowing there was going to be a cull for everyone on their 70th birthday might actually focus minds. Also no new births allowed from August 2023 until 2043.
Essentially old fuckers need to die and younger fuckers need to stop fucking lest they fuck us all up more than they already have.
We’re fucked enough as it is.