New visitors to the chronicles from the future may first wish to visit the past, by reading the earlier hologramletters. (see the older listings on the right, go to the bottom and click the link to the earlier hologramletters)
NOTE The following is an adaptation from the soon to be released book ‘Letters From 2030’. To register interest on its release, or to order a copy email Bob Williamson via this link.
Again the screen flickered, but this time the image materialised clearly; he smiled recognising the face of Katey.
February 3rd 2030
It has been several years old friend. Still, sometimes, late at night I think back to those days: trying to figure out how and why voices like yours and mine, along with millions of others failed to win the day. At times, I’ve the tendency to blame those with lesser minds. Although this is just anger and frustration, something that has become a part of my life ever since Greenland’s ice broke up and came crashing into the ocean. Yes, it is beneath me; the pent up rage although - as I give it no outlet - bubbles to the service. It would be so easy to blame people like, well, the ‘Others’ as Anthony calls them. We know better, although, you and I. We know the blame lies in the complacency of the opulent and the greed of the powerful status quo. Somehow they failed to understand that there was a better and easier way. Your friend, Anthony, has put forth some amazing arguments to me on how Industrial Hemp could’ve created an economic boom and actually reduced the amount of carbon we had emitted, preventing Rapid Climate Change, or at least given us a chance to. I plan on letting him know that the Kush seeds for medical use are going to be released. He and Vicky can start them in a mini horticulture lab down by my bee hive experiment. I will demand that close and strict guidelines be applied to the usage of the crop. The ‘Others’ are lazy enough without having them zoned out of their collective little minds all day long.
Bob you really upset me! I was the only person here who managed to change my persona when the rescue of Doc fell through. I really miss her. She would’ve probably been conducting a physiological profile on your friend. I went into an automatic mode where everything had to be by the book, when she died. Funny really, as with Doc’s passing and the emergence of the Jay Squad into the compound, the book went out the window. Thanks are in order although, Anthony and I are getting to know each other and the compound needs this odd collection of souls.
I am curious Bob. Did you ever meet Anthony in person? He is very unique, shall we say somewhat eccentric Old Man. Robin and I have been doing a thorough search on him. What we have found is at odds with his gruff demeanour. Twenty years before I was born, he was writing letters to a Midwestern newspaper, The Hawkeye Tribune. We came across one quite by accident, while searching a national data base of libraries and this opened the door to finding hundreds. A self described liberal hawk, talk about a contradiction in terms. He showed militant competence and was quick to respond with a call for force when America’s interests were threatened. At the same time, he exhibited a shrewd insight into the failed policies of U.S. foreign policy, policies that inevitably almost always led to U.S. intervention in foreign lands. Over the years his writings changed, from the devout humanitarian arose an eco-warrior who seemed to despise humanity. Constantly at odds with himself, he seems beset by dichotomies of his own creation. He once wrote in a column of his called Earth Line:
“Retreating from mankind to live a life along the river ecosystem and commune with nature. I have not abandoned humanity, just the people who compose it.”
Robin thinks he was using humanity as a reference to the humane attributes of our species that we have not reached. His writings are full of lines that are vague in meaning, leaving the reader to contemplate matters for themselves. There is a segment of his letters, which goes on for years, where almost everything he writes ends in a question, a time period where the closing sentence completely reverses the concept of the entire letter and reaches for a higher level of consciousness. Almost as if he was writing to two audiences at the same time. Doc would’ve either admired the man or found him to be certifiable, maybe both, I’m not sure.
After your book came out, I took some heat from my colleagues. You know of course the pattern of acceptance within the scientific community. In private conversations although, the same people who would scrutinize me in public acknowledged me in private and sought out additional information. Shortly after the concept for the doomsday bunkers came into play, I was approached by the President’s Science Advisor, and put on the committee to help create it.
So sad that people would not listen to our message when they still had a chance. Most choose to laugh off the warnings. Given the fact, that the amount of information continued to stockpile. As did the amount of methane, carbon and other gasses that were collecting in the atmosphere. I picked up your book last night and read the following words.
“In northern Siberia lakes are releasing methane at a rate five times higher than previously estimated. Studies by Katey Walter, and International Polar Year postdoctoral fellow at the Institute of Arctic Biology at the University of Alaska-Fairbanks, reported in Nature in 2006 that her team’s calculations increase the present estimates of methane emissions from northern wetlands by between 10 and 63 percent. She explains: “This newly recognized source of methane is so far not included in climate models. Estimates suggest the area has 500 gigatons (1,100 trillion pounds) of carbon, largely in the form of ancient dead plant material. Walter suggest: ‘Permafrost models predict significant thaw of permafrost during this century, which means that yedoma permafrost is like a time bomb waiting to go off – as it continues to thaw, tens of thousands of teragrams of methane can be released to the atmosphere enhancing climate change.’”
That seems like another lifetime ago Bob. I wish you well and have hopes that something good can come, yet, from the disaster mankind had thrust upon the planet.
Katey AKA Patricia, for now, and forever forward.
She had indeed done much to wake up those that could have snatched victory from the hands of defeat that was now a broken world, he thought. She was still striving to make a better place, even if only for a few at the Alaskan HAARP compound. Her work went on, but now at least, the few she could talk to were actually listening to her wisdom.
There were many images in her memories he could view for the first time; as he drifted through them on the memory screens watching her thoughts, he could see an equal balance of good and bad. Katey was much the lonelier for the absence of Doc.