Why am I writing about climate change on HuffPo? Who am I writing for - the people here and now who think that a single snowfall in Chicago is evidence against global warming? Or am I trying to explain to some distant descendant how it all went so wrong? That is so pointless, things are going to get so bad during the course of this century that no one is going to be interested in how it happened, just what happened and how they can survive. Am I trying to say to posterity, hey, some of us knew what was happening, and tried, oh how we tried, to turn things around? Don't think posterity will give a damn about whether I was on the side of the angels or not, just that I failed.
I had thought that I could make a difference, be up on the bridge of the Titanic, wrestling with the wheel and steering the ship away from the iceberg and then back to port. But it is too late. The door to the bridge is locked, and hammering on it makes no difference, the Captain is oblivious, and demanding more and more coal to increase the speed.
Then I thought maybe I could gather some passengers around me and we could charge the door, break it down, put the Captain in the brig, and rescue everyone. All I had to do was to show the passengers the icebergs floating by, and explain to them what the immediate future was going to bring. But they were all too busy in the ballroom, wining, dining, dancing, doing business deals, playing sports, hoping a beautiful woman's dress would slip and reveal a nipple. I wandered through the tables, pleading, cajoling, begging, warning, all to no avail.
So the only possible way for my writing to make sense is if the human race had moved to a new planet, and I was providing a kind of guide as to why Earth was no longer habitable, had in fact been discarded, unvalued, by the Human Race, like a used tissue. Perhaps then the travellers might use my words to try to avoid making the same mistakes again, on a new planet.
Or should I just give up?