To a citizen fifty years hence:
Greetings stranger, sorry we screwed up your inheritance. Did you make it to another planet or are you still Earthbound, scavenging the waste dumps and fighting over bicycle parts? Hope not. Perhaps the fossil fuel society did collapse and that has gifted you a miracle: a civilization driven by creativity and renewable energy, where every citizen plays a vital role and tanks are tractors. By the time you receive this I am long dead, so why this message?
In case the good guys lose and the bad guys re-write history. The West is now at war with itself and just about everyone else, which is draining our capacity to deal with a range of threats to human survival. Some of these threats have been unfolding for a long time and our leaders have been a long time looking the other way. Forests, water, coal and uranium are hauled from the Earth and sold for peanuts. For a fee of $180, Coca Cola is allowed to siphon 66 million litres of water a year from a pristine aquifer in Mangrove Mountain NSW, bottle it in plastic and ship it afar, while local farmers struggle.
If asked to imagine the distant future, our politicians can't think beyond the date of the next election. Until 2007, the Australian Prime Minister dismissed Global Warming as an invention of malcontents. He remains dubious of claims that it's linked to human activity. And yet, as our unsustainable lifestyle starts to fade, a new kind of society struggles to be born. It is the fate of this struggle, dear citizen of the future, that will have defined your destiny.
The encroaching web of perils should not have taken us by surprise. Warnings flashed 50 years ago in the 1960's, when I was young and the West was reeling from a social upheaval that ended a colonial war and extended civil liberties. It also exposed the nasty side of capitalism, including its fouling of nature. The mode of the music changed, the walls of the city shook. We marched, shouting slogans, flowers in our hair and smoking cannabis. Then came psychedelics. In this moment of madness we found that consciousness was king. It was a time when everything seemed possible, even a generational mind-shift. We saw a chance to live more lightly on the planet. Then winter came... and they put up a parking lot. With a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swinging hot spot.
Consumerism was back. Gaia caught a fever. Today, as the fossil fuel era slouches to extinction, a new kind of counter culture is finding its feet. Not everyone is happy.
So of course people are starting to rub the sleep from their eyes and to examine more closely the edifice of illusion that for so long has held them spellbound.
NOTHING IS QUITE AS IT SEEMS
Even Donald Trump looked down the barrel of CNN and said the war is a disaster, the President is a disaster and the White House a disseminator of lies. The head of the International Criminal Court, Luis Moreno-Ocampo, has endorsed the "feasibility" of Bush, Blair and Howard being docked at the Hague on charges for war crimes. Investigators from Europe found that 1,254 secret and illegal CIA flights have violated European airspace since 9/11, some carrying kidnapped suspects bound for torture. It was bloggers who blew the whistle, as the mainstream media slept.
We're finding that everything is connected. Corporate media thrills to war, as it is good for business, especially the businesses owned by its advertisers and board members, some of which peddle weapons of mass destruction (Lockheed Martin, Boeing, Northrop Grumman, Raytheon. Overall, consumers were fed flag-wrapped tales of rose petal welcomes and falsified heroics, often scripted by the Pentagon.
This diplomatic fortress spreads across an acreage larger than Vatican City and is visible from space. All talk of pulling Americans troops out Iraq has nothing to do with pulling Americans out of Iraq. The Tigris Hilton is a glorified garrison, one of about 738 US bases criss-crossing the globe, some with secret prisons and nuclear missiles.
In short, dear citizen of the future, what we face today is a global empire addicted to oil, armed to the teeth and run by a pinhead.