Last evening, PBS ran a program, Petro-Apocalypse. The world is running out of oil. And by every indication, according to every engineer and scientist, it really does not and will not matter where we drill, or how deeply we drill, or how much we drill.

::::::::

It's all a jumble. But then, that's precisely what life is, and people are.

A lady visiting the warm climes of Palm Springs, while the ground "up north"- remains frozen, reported how she "just had to get home"---home for now being the pre-fab she's renting while here--"to see her program. It's on at 8:00."- The program: The Bachelor. Another program that's on her "must see"- list is Big Brother. Absent the first hint of embarrassment, she also reported how she was once attending a wedding reception, but had to leave early because one of her shows was on. However I cannot now recall which show she was referring to, I can safely report it was along the same lines as those just noted.

 

Yesterday, February 23, a mid-January Harris poll was released wherein Americans had ranked their "most admired of all time"-: 10.) Mother Teresa; 9.) Captain "-Sully' Sullenberger; 8.) President John F. Kennedy; 7.) Senator John McCain; 6.) President Abraham Lincoln; 5.) President George W. Bush; 4.) President Ronald Reagan; 3.) Martin Luther King, Jr.; 2.) Jesus; 1.) President Barack Obama. Remember: this list compiled by Americans across every demographic was THE ALL TIME MOST ADMIRED!

 

Are the two preceding paragraphs correlated? Well, in the words of Governor Palin, "You becha."

 

My reaction to the woman in the second paragraph was polite, yet terse. "Only under the most extreme torture would I ever have admitted that to anyone. But then, it explains so much."

 

Here's what we're facing. And by the contraction of "we" are, I'm bringing in not only the entire world, but the next immediate progeny of all alive today. Furthermore, following the next immediate progeny, things are likely to only get much, much, much worse.

Last evening, PBS ran a program, Petro-Apocalypse. The world is running out of oil. And by every indication, according to every engineer and scientist, it really does not and will not matter where we drill, or how deeply we drill, or how much we drill. The peak occurred sometime during the mid- to late 70s, and it's been down hill since. Demand simply continues to outstrip supply. Opinions differed as to when the real end would occur.

 

OPEC ministers claimed there was sufficient supply for another 100 to 150 years. Alternate, and less biased opinions, pointed out the oil producing countries have a real stake in trying to sooth world concerns: oil is all they have, and every effort the non-OPEC countries make to free themselves of the OPEC tether is adverse to the interests of the oil producing countries. They also pointed out that OPEC has never permitted their forecasts to be audited by anyone, and that look-backs at previously published OPEC estimates strongly suggest the current estimates overshoot supply at least by one-third. The predominant estimate put the day of worldwide reckoning from five to twenty years distant.   

 

It's not just the gasoline and diesel and jet fuel with which the world fills the fuel tanks of its cars, trucks, and planes. It's all of that and the role oil plays in every aspect of modern life, from the transportation of food stuffs to retailers, to the fertilizers that are used to grow the food that truckers transport to retailers, to every implement along the way and outside the way; plastics, pharmacological therapies, everything that has anything to do with any facet of life!  

 

Whether it's five years downstream when crunch grows to horrific apocalyptic crash, or twenty, or thirty . . . Does it matter? Really?

It's irrelevant which state you hail from, or live in, you haven't a clue about agriculture until you've seen California agriculture. From the base of the Tehachapi north past Redding, between the Coastal range and the Sierra, it's mile after mile after mile beyond the horizon of produce that finds its way to America's grocery shelves. The Salinas Valley is called the "salad bowl of America." It stretches from the north-central Pacific coast near Monterey inland, the gentle hills roll almost forever in strawberries, lettuce, Brussels sprouts, artichokes. Gilroy, 30 miles south of San José, is renown as the garlic capitol of the world, just as Morgan Hill is famous for mushrooms. The Imperial Valley, 100 miles east of LA, is another major supplier of produce.         

 

And the state is running out of water. Drought has now plagued California for over a decade. Not only have out-of-control forest fires evolved from a seasonal threat to one that is year round, the snow packs in the Sierra and in the Rockies have turned so scant that the major metropolitan regions are now caught in virulent legal and social battles with the agricultural regions. Both rely on runoff from those two mountain chains for survival; survival that is now agreed by everyone to be tenuous.

A micro question that goes 100% to the macro: Would you feel confident about putting your paycheck in a checking and/or savings account at an institution you strongly suspected was tipping over the edge to insolvency and bankruptcy, if there was no FDIC to protect your funds? Even more consequent a query: Would you even bother going to work if you were going to be paid with a check you could not cash?

 

Hate them all you wish, but we need a viable banking system almost as much as we need food to fuel our bodies. That's because, short of barter and absent a viable banking system, we have no means of exchange with which to buy the things--including food--that we need for survival. Banks are the hinge upon which those necessities of life swing. 

 

Last years' $350 billion TARP measure was intended to buy the "Toxic Assets,"- the "-T' and the "-A' in TARP, held by the financial institutions. On radio talk programs and on C-SPAN's Washington Journal, 7:00 am to 10:00am EST. viewer call-in program and on blogs and in op-ed pieces in the print and on the Internet, I've heard, seen, and read folks grousing over the failure of the government to spend the allocated sums, to purchase the toxic assets. Ain't at all that easy. Let's say John and Mary Doe bought or refinanced their home when the estimate of fair market value was $200,000. Since then, in addition to all the stresses that typify every market (divorce, death, etc.), the area is one in which major employers have thrown in the towel and put its workers on the streets, the result of which is an oversupply of homes for sale because they've been foreclosed, or are facing foreclosure.

 

"Market value"- is the maximum price in dollars that is necessary to purchase a given piece of realty, or its equivalent, at a given date in time. With an abundance of homes, all competing for scarce buyers, the prices sought, and for which a willing and able buyer can be found, just continue to spiral downward; from $200,000 to $175,000; $150,000; $125,000 . . . So, what is any toxic asset worth, or all of them together? How do you know? How can anyone know? The prices just keep falling and falling and falling, and on any given day there's the high probability that the purchaser will have paid too much. And you, as the taxpayer behind the government's efforts, are the buyer.

 

This past January I turned 63. I experienced the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. The United States and the Soviet Union faced off against each other over the fact the Soviets were attempting to install nuclear-tipped intercontinental ballistic missiles in Cuba. (It was only after the collapse of the USSR that we learned the suspected threat of active missiles was at that time a genuine reality.) One errant move by either super-power could have been a life-ending move for planet Earth.

 

I experienced the Vietnam War. And I experienced both near-depression recessions that occurred under Reagan, and the Market Crash that also took place during his presidency. As with every now sentient American, I watched on television when the twin towers fell in billowing clouds of white dust.

 

At no time during my life have I been witness to the unfolding extraordinary calamities that now assault the world; the end of lifestyle sustaining affordable oil, life and lifestyle threatening drought, and the potential collapse of economies and governments pan-global. Never before! Never!

 

There is nothing wrong with relaxing after a hard day, in front of mindlessly insipid television programs. But when the brain boiling bubbling bovine waste precludes the intake of the information requisite to the formation of informed opinions and participation in informed discussions . . . Today? When we're all facing the edge of the precipice?

 

I have two college majors: business administration and political science. The latter I've lived and breathed passionately for the past 10 years. Contrary to a lot of popular opinion, what we discuss with each other does find its way to government policy. You talk with a neighbor. The neighbor talks things over with those in his or her church group or other civic organizations; PTA, Boy Scouts, veterans associations, etc. The leaders of those groups then carry the message up the line. It's all much akin to ripples in a pond, or, even more dramatically, the butterfly effect. (Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . I know: money talks. But money unaligned with ballot strength fares less well than if it's accompanied by voter sentiment.) In other words, being informed matters. Being informed, especially today, when so much is at stake, matters one hellova lot.

 

Mindless, persistent indulgence at a time when being responsibly informed is what is called for most is the very apex of as well as the very definition of the betrayal of personal responsibility.

Authors Bio:
An "Old Army Vet" and liberal, qua liberal, with a passion for open inquiry in a neverending quest for truth unpoisoned by religious superstitions. Per Voltaire: "He who can lead you to believe an absurdity can lead you to commit an atrocity."