Posts Tagged ‘death’

Mr Jones

August 17, 2010

“Believe in me

Help me believe in anything

Because I want to be someone who believes..”

You know someone cares about you when your tears make them cry. That’s what I’ve been thinking about for the past ten minutes. Remembering when my sisters cried for me, and when my cousin Tom cried for me. And when I cried for him when his brother died. Just imagining their pain is unbearable, so you cry. You cry because you don’t want them to feel it. Because you can’t help that they do feel it.

I’m his favourite cousin and best friend. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to be there. He lost his bro, his partner in crime, possibly the closest person to him in his life. What can I say to him? He’s not the kind of person who will open up and tell you his feelings. He’s a 24 year old guy who grew up on a farm, who is almost painfully intelligent, in the way that he may be the smartest person I know, kind of a genius. And he has that whole macho, manly farmer thing happening. His best mate is overseas. I’m 3hrs away and stuck there for uni.

Its like that time where people start forgetting the loss. Or they start avoiding it in conversation. That’s kinda the worst part about it, that whole silence that makes it feel like it doesn’t matter anymore. Because people are still feeling the pain but they don’t want to bring it up because it’s past the appropriate grieving time. Sometimes because I live so far away I forget that he’s even gone. Because I’m not in their day to day lives enough to feel that immediate loss. So I can just be thinking about Tom and then casually wonder something about Bill. And then I remember that he’s gone, and the last time I saw him was my birthday, 6 months before he died, and I really should have made more of an effort to see him and be in his life. And I wonder if I was always as nice to him as I could’ve been.

I have this tissue box that for some reason the girls started drawing on the night of my birthday. They were drawing mermaids on it and taking pictures, just to be silly. It’s the only thing I have to remind me of the last time I saw him. I even used some of the tissues when crying about him. They only just ran out the other day.

I can’t imagine how Tom is feeling. He’s cheated of a best man. A best friend. We were supposed to all have kids that would play together while we drank beers on the outside porch. We were going to be old together. I’ve been trying not to think about it really. I mean I think about it every day, but I don’t think about it in depth. The boys all play guitar, suddenly they’ve all started learning the songs Bill used to play. Its almost like a duty. It’s their way of showing that his memory won’t be lost. That we’ll always play those songs and think of him. He loved getting drunk and playing guitar and singing to us. We all did. It’s like a family tradition.

It’s just so hard to think that I can never have a conversation with him again, because I can still hear his voice in my head. He really was the happy one who joked all the time and laughed the loudest. He was popular and had heaps of girlfriends and mates and played football and was good looking. I remember playing with him as kids, he loved animals. I just can’t understand why he did it. I don’t get why suddenly my cousin is missing from existence. I’ve been to his grave and I still don’t believe it. These things aren’t supposed to happen.

It really makes you re-evaluate life. I suddenly feel very clingy with my family, all my friends, I’m worried about everyone I know. I couldn’t handle it being someone closer, how terrible is that to think? But I mean I couldn’t handle it happening again. On top of this. I can’t bear it. So imagine how badly Tom must be feeling. That makes me cry. He’s practically muted on the topic and he lost his closest friend. How do you help someone who can’t express themselves? I’ll be there in a few weeks, but that’s as soon as I can manage.

This year is like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. It’s the bad parrallel universe. Don’t you ever get that feeling like you’re living the bad life in a choose your own adventure? That you made the wrong choice down the line somewhere and wound up on the wrong path. That’s what 2010 has been for me. None of it is within my control. I can’t fix any of it.

He loved Mr Jones by Counting Crows. He loved a lot of songs but I can’t remember them all. Anyway, this song will always make me sad.



July 21, 2010

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

Only I will remain.

Its hard to remember that when I get upset and angry, it all comes from my fear. Fear of peoples opinions or not getting what I want, or all this other shit that in reality means little to nothing. I can’t sit here and be eaten by fear all the time. I was fearless once, I want to be again. I can’t act from fear, I have to act against it. I have to be the strength I want to see in others, the truth that I want to be told, the courage to go against the grain, the right in spite of the wrong.

I don’t know about any of you, but my 2010 has been a bit of a slap to the face. I found myself having to deal with some real shit I never saw myself being in a position to endure. And step by step, it has only seemed to have gotten worse. A part of me wants to give up and say fuck it, what can I do? I want to disengage and run away and forget it all. But that can only work for so long. And losing someone close to me has made me realise that I have to face it. I have to open up communication and give my problems the attention and solutions they deserve, despite how hard it is, despite the fear I’m feeling inside. Because running away can never work, it always catches up to you.

I wish I could be like my sisters, and always know whats right or wrong. They always know exactly what to say and they’re always truthful. I wish I could magic my problems away with a puff of cloud and be done with them. I want to be the clever fox who slips away into the night, always a step ahead of the game, never having to own up to the mishaps that lay before me. Because I’m not as strong as I like to think I am. I’m overly sensitive I suppose. Is it because I want to make others feel better about themselves, or because I want others to feel better about me? Maybe both.

Its so easy to get caught up in selfishness, to forget that you’re trying to be good and do the right thing at any intersection you come across. I mostly get it right, but some slip ups leave me so far deep in the wrong that I can’t fathom a way to climb up out of them. And my pride doesn’t think I should have to. But so what if I’m wrong? So what if I’m an idiot? Why should I care so much about having a righteous image? I’ve fucked up plenty of times.

I guess that in itself is a reason. I don’t want to fuck up anymore. I already lived that life, made the wrong choices, pleased only myself. I don’t want to constantly be thought of as the fuck up of the family. I want to be normal, stable, dependable. I want to be the white sheep, not the black one. But its too hard to bleach the wool.

I know what I have to do. What I have to say. So, just do it. Stop being frozen with fear and stand up and say what has to be said. And if you are left with wounds and people who are unhappy with you, so be it. It is their choice to make, they decide how they will react to something. And don’t be surprised when they react with fear, because you often do too.


R.I.P. Cousin

July 8, 2010

How could we have seen pain so deep

No words came to the surface

Despite everything he knew he had

He could not find a purpose

We laughed with him but never knew

The grief and fear he felt

And he couldn’t find the voice to say

‘I’m in trouble, please send help’

Silence left to ache, to wonder

What we could have done or said

To admit it he would lose himself..

And so we lost him instead.

Love you always Billy. 1991-2010

Collateral Murder

April 6, 2010

Firstly, I’m  deeply sorry to the victims in Collateral Murder, my heart goes out to their families and friends. There’s something very despicable about watching someones life being taken from them, it’s wrong on so many levels. I didn’t want to watch it,  and I found it so distressing that I cried most of the way through, but unfortunately the video is too important to ignore and I can’t write about it without having seen it.

A brief run down for those who don’t want to watch: A helicopter spots a group of  about 15 people walking through the streets, somewhere in Iraq, one of which is carrying something that looks like a rocket launcher. It is in fact a camera, held by one of two journalists for Reuters who are walking with the group. The helicopter requests permission to fire, then does and kills all but a couple who try to crawl away. Both happen to be the journalists. One of them is shot at again until he is dead, the other crawls for a while until a van arrives to try and rescue him. They are also shot and all are killed. In the van are two children who were wounded, the van was completely destroyed. A tank then runs over one of the bodies.

They were acting on orders. They took a look at what was going on and came up with the viable solution that they are trained to find in this situation. They are in a hostile zone, someone looks to be carrying an RPG, others look to hold guns. But this shocking play out of events finds them realising in the last scene that they killed innocent people, even injured children. “Well its their fault for bringing kids into a battle,” says one soldier. “That’s right,” another replies. They have to alleviate themselves from the guilt of the situation or else they can’t do the task at hand. They’re rash, they’re afraid, they’re jumpy.

I can’t completely blame the soldiers who think they are just doing their job, saving the rest of the world. They weren’t the ones who pushed for this fake war where innocent people die for trying to take photos of atrocities they would ultimately become a part of. But I can question their procedures. Why can they kill before they have accurate and verified sightings of weapons? Why do they keep shooting until everyone is dead, instead of just wounding them so that they are out of action? Why can they shoot at any vehicle no matter who may be inside? Why are they allowed to shoot people trying to rescue the wounded? Why are any of these innocent deaths justifiable by the US Army?

Break it down. Why are these 15 people dead? Not because of any real or valid reason I can find. They are dead because the US wanted to invade, to get some oil, to establish a Middle Eastern stronghold, to avoid righting the class imbalance in their own society by allocating funds to the latest “threat” to national security. Iraq had no WMD’s, nor was there the intelligence to suggest there was any. They weren’t connected to 9/11. There were no terrorists. We simply went into a country, tore apart their government and businesses and destroyed the whole lot. We left them with nothing but bombed rubble piles that were once homes and dead family members. Over a hundred thousand civillians have died for this reasonless war.

And we only find out because in this group of civillians, two journalists died. Reuters fought for the footage via the Freedom of Information Act for three years. This was held back from the public for three years. I first saw the story at 5am this morning on wikileaks, Al Jazeera ran it immediately, The Age took six hours after realising it wasn’t just going to blow over, Fox News took 9 and CNN finally ran it almost 12 hours after the fact. Still, till now, they would prefer to sweep this under the carpet than expose the world to the truth. That is where our media stands. Biased, controlled, ruthless, frustratingly mute on the most important stories. How many more videos are there like this one?

Again, I’m gravely sorry for what has happened to these poor souls. But I am thankful that this has come to the surface, for the sake of democracy and transparency and truth. We need to see our leaders for what they really are, the system for what it is. It is corrupt and it cheats and it lies and it kills. This story is a step on the path of righting the injustice of many at the hands of the rich, elite few. Hopefully soon the trickle will become a flood and there will be nowhere left for them to hide.


March 26, 2009

“The place we used to be is still a part of me

And I’m so fortunate lady that you still need a piece of me

And I know that you’re waiting, see I’m only down town

You know I roll alone girl, I’m never with a crowd..

Take me back to the day when you made me fall

I want to go, I want to go

Make me feel like you did the very first time we ever touched

I want to go, lets just go..”


I went to stay at my great-grandmothers place these holidays, and while she passed away when I was five and the house has been renovated since, it still has her feel and her essence. You can’t escape it. Maybe it comes from knowing her, knowing what kind of woman she was and how caring and selfless she was. But how can you really know what kind of person someone is when you’re five? I knew she was loving and kind, and thats all I needed.

One of the first things we did was walk around and check everything out, see what we remembered and what was new. Touch and prod and feel and try on. Her mink coat was gone, a tribute to her classic style. She was pearls and 1940’s curls, designer chic for dinner and nautical colors as she relaxed around the house. We stared at a glamour pic of her from her youth, she must have been early twenties. “You look like her, ” my sister said. And I was surprised to find I agreed with her. We have dark hair and the same nose. I felt like family for once.

One thing really struck a chord with me as I sat down in her old torn recliner and looked at the room from a perspective she must have, day in and out, for decades. I could see the tv in front of me, to the left was the window with a view to the garden of the front yard, and to the right was a portrait of her husband who died a long time before she did. She must have looked into his eyes everyday and missed him.

“Sure as all that breathe will die

And showers fall from April skies

A heart thats pure won’t be denied

The kind of loving that will rock you

The kind of loving that will keep you

Hold you for a lifetime

Even in the hard times, even when its going down..

You’re gonna find someone’s riding with you

You don’t have to be alone, you just have to hold on

You’re gonna find true love..”


What happened to the love from back then? The one that lasted forever, long after your husband has gone. The one that left you believing you’d be with him one day soon, that he was waiting for you.. These days it seems like marriage lasts 7 years, and love lasts even less. How is it that our grandparents marriages last forever, but everyone else is divorcing? Theres some element they have, that we don’t. What is it?

Maybe its because we don’t truly appreciate the other when they are with us, what they do for us, or that it takes effort every single day to make things work. Maybe its because we’re so trained by consumerism to never be satisfied, to always want more or be looking for something better, an upgrade.. Why do people leave each other, when others can make it work forever? We raise our kids in the era of divorce, it feels like every kid has gone or will go through it. And with that kind of backdrop, how can we expect them to believe in a love that lasts more than a few years? Its no wonder everyone is always breaking up.

But when I sat in her chair it wasn’t hard for me to imagine getting a portrait of my own husband, and of days spent there warmed by the suns rays and our own affections. I hadn’t even considered marriage before that, aside from maybe eloping in Las Vegas or something equally as vague. I’d definitely never thought about the part after. But now its a big question in the back of my mind.. What has happened to everlasting love?

“When I think about it

I know that I was never there

Or even cared

The more I think about it

The less that I was able to share

With you

I try to reach you I

Can almost feel you, you’re nearly here

And then you disappear..”


Racism’s Still Alive, They Just Be Concealin It

January 4, 2009

-Kanye West, Never Let Me Down, College Dropout.


Firstly, Happy New Year to you all. I hope your New Years Eves were as crazy and drunken as mine, full of random interaction with strangers who were off their faces and dazzling displays of fireworks and such. I’ll be sharing my holiday stories with you soon. Sorry for post delays, but I have been drinking for a few days without even a bar of phone reception in a holiday house near Lakes Entrance. Most of the outside world has been a mystery to me, or not actually on the agenda at all and so after catching up on the news here I am, ready to pick a politics fight from the blogging world!

It is Day 9 of the Israeli siege on Gaza. Desertpeace records the casualties at 450 people with 2350 injured. The ground military have moved in, and this is when we can expect the numbers of casualties to rise dramatically, if history has taught us anything about Israeli invasions of Palestine. This is when the women, elderly and children will be ‘accidentally’ slaughtered in disgustingly high numbers and by sickeningly bloodthirsty ways.


I caught a couple of minutes of a foreign correspondent talking on I think Channel 10 a day or so ago, and he looked scared shitless. No matter what they edited out of his undoubtedly anti-Israeli report, they couldn’t edit the shaking in his voice or the fear on his face. He knew some dangerous and murderous shit was about to go down and he wanted to get the fuck out of there. He said something fleetingly about the instigator as usual being Israel and the mass casualties being as always, the Palestinian civillians, before being diverted from the topic by the home base journo.

No matter what preconceived notions you had about Arab-Israeli conflict in the Middle East, once you get to Palestine there is no denying who is the aggressor and the murderer, and who is being slaughtered. There’s no denying the tiny body bags containing innocent children or the residential homes no where near terrorist bases that have been bombed to rubble. Even if after a couple of weeks the mess has been cleared away and the blood washed off the walls, you have the inevitability of another attack in a few more weeks, because it’s a never ending genocide. Constant, reckless, vicious assaults on your suburb or city until you are either obliterated or you run away. Because all they want is that land and they won’t stop killing until they get it.


Let’s not beat around the bush here, lets be real about it. We all know that they’re murdering people until they either destroy every Palestinian in the world or get full control of the West Bank and Gaza Strip. No matter what bullshit excuse they pull out for this invasion, or this bombing, or this bulldozing the fact of the matter is it all comes down to what we already knew. Why people deny it, or defend Israel is beyond me. They could be in hot pursuit of Hamas terrorists, defending their own country and so forth. They say the same shit every time. But how does that explain the thousands of civillian deaths? Year after year, children and women are massacred on the streets. How can you defend that? Is the destruction of Hamas worth the mass murder of innocents?

I suppose its easier to distance ourselves from those kind of deaths because of how different the Palestinians are from us. We can’t relate to them. Muslims and olive skin, poverty and refugee camps. If Australian civillians were caught up in the middle of a war between some terrorist group and a hostile neighbouring country, experiencing that kind of casualty rate, it would be a world wide outrage. There would be protesting in the streets of the capital cities. There would be billions of dollars donated to the poor Aussie refugees who lost their houses to the bombs and bulldozers. The US would probably intervene on our behalf. White people only care when white people die. That’s the sad truth.


So I’m not really sure what’s worse to me, that the Israelis are orchestrating genocide on the Palestinians as I type, or that nobody in the Western world gives a fuck about it? We didn’t care when their water and electricity were cut off, their medical supplies, food packages, international aid. We didn’t care when they were forced out of their houses or when fences were put around them so that they could live like caged animals. We didn’t care that they were made to endure hours of waiting at road block after road block, so that babies were being born in cars where their parents were waiting in line to be stripped and humiliated in hopes of reaching the hospitals on the other side.

It doesn’t even matter if they die, or their children and elderly are killed, we still don’t care. The worst of the worst has already happened. Rape, torture, slaughter, desecration of holy and cultural sites and icons, homes burnt to the ground. Palestine is the closest thing to hell on earth, and we’ve already given permission to the Israelis to administer their eternal damnation.

I guess heaven is still whites only.


Uni Drained It

October 13, 2008

I’m so glad I have one more week left, then I’m on holidays. Today was a shitty day. I had a team presentation on some research project gayness, which I took control of and delegated tasks so that we’d all have equal parts, blah blah, you know how it is. The way it was planned out was that I’d do the intro and then my results, anti-feminist bimbo does her results (how can you be anti-feminist as a woman? Is it even possible? Do you argue for yourself to have less rights? I don’t get it..) and then quiet face does her results and the conclusion. Instead of having an extra talking bit, the bimbo puts it all together on powerpoint, because I hate doing that.

So we’re all happy and its all good, but bimbo sends me the email with no presentation attachment. I think ‘ahh it will be fine’, and just rock up with my notes. I mean she only has to copy and paste, how hard can it be? I put heaps of effort in for once, because I can sometimes get flustered, so I knew at least my part would be awesome. Plus I’m a bit competitive with these things and I wanted to shine compared to bimbo and quiet face.

The bitch barred the fuck out of me! She cut my introduction in half and used my brilliant points for her own speech and mixed the results of all of ours to combine them into one result! She actually said half of my talk for me! What the fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.. Like before we started she goes, oh about the limitations, I just used yours for the whole results. And I thought she meant she just said in her speech, my limitations were the same as Luli’s (because its the same assignment whatever), but what she meant was, she took my second half of the intro/results, chopped it up and used what she needed!

So, I’m not a fantastic public speaker in the first place because I get nervous and sidetracked, but when I saw my shit was all fucked up I panicked hard! I was a mess up there, goddamnit.. I needed my second half to tie shit together and make it work, without it I sounded like I was too off track, and she fucking took my arguments and said them herself. And all but completely ignored me and quiet face’s results. Of course, she was cool under pressure and delivered her talk perfectly pausing only to shoot me a glance that said ‘We’re cool right? I’m using your shit here and you don’t mind yeah?’.

I was fucking stunned. I wished I had simplified my points so that she couldn’t understand them, but like an idiot I sent her the whole thing. And I just know she’s gonna use all my stuff for the write up, probably in the exact same words, because she’s a whore. And now I look like the stuttering fool, and she’s all on the ball with her social research and FUCK! I’m so cut I actually have tears of frustration.. I HATE HER! I know now at least I could never be a politician, with their calmness under fire and public speechery and such. Probably for the best, you all know I’m no angel.

Then after that in my writing class this chick that I don’t even really like was sitting next to me and we started workshopping her memoir piece. She wrote about her brother dying but it didn’t become apparent that it was a true story until she started crying halfway through reading it. I didn’t know what to do, she was like sobbing beside me, her tears were mussing up all the ink on her page. So I hugged her. I even rubbed her back a bit to sooth her coz she was all gaspy. What do you do? You can’t just let them cry over their sibling in front of you and just look away because its awkward.

It was weird though, and I’m not quite sure if it was inappropriate, I mean we’re not even cool with each other usually. I’m always rolling my eyes at her because she adds anecdotes to every thing she says in class, and thats my pet hate. Man, thats some rough shit to go through. It made me think of that question, if you were in a room of strangers and got news that someone close to you had died, would you walk out of the room or cry on the spot in front of them?

I’d like to think that I’d walk out, but in reality I’m a blubbering mess that cries at episodes of Buffy & Gilmore Girls. What would you do?

Another Dead In The Name Of Religion

August 12, 2008

A 19 month old boy was starved to death for not saying ‘Amen’ after eating, by a cult which included his own mother. Oh, you cruel animals. How could you do that do a child? No offense to those who follow organised religion, but why are we all still suffering violence at your hands?

For a long time, I was making the moves towards reverting to Islam. I was listening to Islamic lectures, fasting during Ramadan, reading the Koran, learning to pray. I’ve always dressed conservatively, so that was no problem. I was learning Arabic, which I had gotten pretty good at. I can understand what people are talking about quite well, my speaking is disjointed though, I would love to continue with the language some day.

One thing I couldn’t understand about the religion, despite loving it, was the part that women were not equal to men. I asked a lot of my Muslim friends about it, but never got a satisfactory answer. I suppose I should have asked a Sheik, but I didn’t. I let myself be discouraged after years of study. I knew more about Islam than most of the Muslims I knew, but I just gave up.

I’m not saying all this to show Islam unfavourably, I still think it is a beautiful religion, based on submission and peace. I’m merely trying to show you that I understand. I get where you are coming from. I understand that giving yourself wholly to a religion provides unmatchable comfort and a relieving sense of the world being as it should be, all is taken care of, all is well. The meaning of life is under wraps and all you have to do is the best you can, to be a good person. It simplifies everything.

But I hate where religion goes when you take it too far. Too many people have died in the name of it, especially considering they preach for ‘peace’. Discrimination is promoted by religion and thats where my problem lies. No homosexuals, no female priests or sheiks, no marrying someone from another faith. They are wrong and we are right. They deserve to burn. I have this part of me that wants to believe, and yet another part that screams, “A bunch of old patriarchal minded men sat down centuries ago to dictate how the world should be lived, and you’re listening to them? Are you fucking stupid?”.

And then the other part of me who laughs at this quote: “Christianity – The belief that a cosmic Jewish Zombie who was his own father can make you live forever if you symbolically eat his flesh and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from your soul that is present in humanity because a rib-woman was convinced by a talking snake to eat from a magical tree.. yeah, makes perfect sense.”

Everyone has the right to believe what they like, faith is a complicated thing and I am not one to tell others how to live their lives, even if I disagree with them. Why was that boy not returned the same courtesy of simply being allowed to choose whether or not he agreed with his mothers ‘cult’? I don’t know, I’m pretty disgusted right now, so forgive me. I know I’m being very offensive. I know that extremists are not examples of religion in its whole form. But, I’m not wrong in saying religion discriminates.

It does, and thats what makes it unacceptable.

A Perfect Day

June 12, 2008

“If this was my last day here on earth

Would you remember me?

Never really thought about it

So carefree

Young and just doing my own thing..”

My last day would begin with me being woken up by my kitten who sleeps on my bed. He would come over to rub his face against mine like he always does and I would give him some hugs then get up and feed him. The shadows would be dancing on my walls and it would be a mostly cloudy day, with warm winds. I love those kind of days.

My sisters and I would go to Starbucks and get a frappe. On the way back we would pick up some Lebanese pizzas and take them to the park for an early lunch. We would sit on the branches of our favourite tree, like we did when we were younger and enjoy the breeze. I would tell them where my diaries are, and how to find this blog, so that they could read them when I was gone.

After that we would meet up with the girls and go shopping for dresses to wear that night. I would find some beautiful jade green party dress for only 20cents, and we’d go get our hair blow dried and teased. We’d get gelati and walk past Luna Park to the beach, and flirt with cute guys while dipping our feet in the ocean. Then we’d go home to have pre-drinks of vodka with cranberry juice, and start getting ready to go out for dinner.

For dinner we’d meet up with the rest of my family and everyones partners, and all my mates. We’d eat creamy garlic prawns with hot chips and get wasted together, shotting Jager bombs. Everyone would be dancing to Beyonce who would sing on stage, right in front of us. We’d play pool and I’d actually be good at it for once, instead of my usual hack ways.

In the end I’d fall onto my bed, exhausted, and have pleasant dreams forever.

“Sure as all that breathe will die

And showers fall from April skies

A heart thats pure won’t be denied

The kind of loving that will rock you

The kind of loving that will keep you

Hold you for a lifetime..

Even in the sad times.”

The End Of Days

May 21, 2008

I don’t mean to alarm anyone, however I’m alarmed myself. It seems the death of the world is no longer an issue for my children, or grandchildren, but instead will come about in my lifetime. Being that greenhouse gas emissions are no way near zero and will not be for some time, I can safely assure you this is the case.

I’m sure many have seen the startling images of the melting ice shelves in the Antarctic and up where Santa lives, but it is the Greenland Ice Shelf which is causing the most drama at the moment. This is because at the rate it is going, scientists estimate it will be completely melted in 2013. This will raise sea level 5-7 metres.

Once that has occurred it is only a matter of time before both the polar caps melt, which will raise the sea level up to 25 metres. All coastal countries of low altitudes will turn to underwater mermaid cities, some islands have in fact already gone under. It is estimated that there will be something like 3 billion environmental refugees.

This my friends, is not the worst of it. The melting of the caps will turn the ocean acidic and all marine life will die. It will also release deadly methane gases from the permafrost which will surely poison the earth. Last time this kind of thing happened, the only thing that survived was the cockroaches.

We are going to die in a matter of a few decades.

In the future, I’m sure the companies who refused to go green and the leaders who would not force them to will be considered criminals. The sad thing is that help is well within our grasp, but we push it away. Renewable energies such as wind power and solar are cheap and just as effective as the environmentally damaging ones we use today. Countries like Germany, China and Denmark have already begun converting thousands of households to these renewable energy sources. Nuclear power is not an option. For one it is like 50 times more expensive than using solar and wind, and two the plants have a lifespan of only 25 years. Then there is the problem of the toxic waste, which has never been solved.. There is no way to properly contain it and today sits in rusting barrels polluting the earth further.

We can fix this, but we are at the point where if it is not immediate then it will be too late. We’re almost past the point of no return. And no offense to the human race or anything but we’re not usually good with fixing the worlds problems, and without large scale government intervention anything we do is basically going to amount to pissing into the ocean.

Even with all the countries who have ratified Kyoto, the United States greenhouse gas emissions are bigger than the emissions of the 2nd, 3rd and 4th biggest offending countries put together.

Not that I can say much for Australia, who is the biggest offender on average per capita.

I’m pretty scared.