Letters From 2030

POPULATION OVERSHOOT – POPULATION CULL THE END GAME.

2010-06-21T19:04:00.000-07:00

POPULATION OVERSHOOT – POPULATION CULL

THE END GAME.

The early days of the dark eyes took their roots in the years after WW2. Looking back to previous population overshoots, it was easy for anyone to understand their dark reasoning. The world could not sustain an ever increasing population. Most in the overall mix of the population were of little value save only as worker bees in the hive. The outcome there was to produce honey which couldn’t be done without them, but all served to do one thing; serve.

The problem was population overshoot and the solution was population cull. The world would reach overshoot by the end of the 20^th century at just under 6 billion and from that time on every 14 years would see the world’s population growing by a further 1 billion people. A two billion overshoot would be reached by 2030. The dark eyes identified the end game ‘population cull’ to 10% of the global population by 2050. By 1960 with the booming of population after WW2, the foreseen social security costs of a worthless and growing number of aging/retiring worker bees was seen as needing to be eliminated. There was much money to be made from these in the latter part of the 20^th century and early into the 21^st but by 2015 the average life expectancy of the greater majority needed to have been reduced to 60/65.

Once the end game date had been set and the outcome of population cull determined, every strategy to facilitate the outcome could be set and established within the plan. Those whose activities fitted with the strategy could be supported and fostered and those that didn’t eliminated.

To achieve the end game however, a gradual conditioning and control of those to be a part of the 90% cull needed to take place. They needed comfortable distraction which included a need to believe all were working for their collective benefit and future, increasing their wealth and lifestyle. This could be initially achieved by making them feel a part of the future, and thus wanting to be willing worker bees and then by them feeling a sense of security that those in control were working for the collective good, the dark eyes could go unchallenged indeed they would be supported.

Should the end game have been revealed by the early 80’s the dark eyes would have failed, as it was easy by then to see the strategy in almost every activity of daily life, but the slow process of carcinogenic poisoning would not have taken its rightful place in the end game outcome. They knew that at a bare minimum the dawn of the 21^st century needed to be reached.

An essential cornerstone of the dark eyes strategy was the Corporation. Through its charter to act for the commercial interests of its shareholders; many of them dark eyes members, it could make determinations for almost everything though economic outcomes, while spreading the seeds of the end game though all commercial, political and societal sectors to gain control with impunity.

The tobacco industry strategy was one of the earlier examples of how the strategy could succeed. While fitting well with the end game to reduce life expectancy, increase illness that could then benefit from pharmaceutical treatment – thus make money by the action and the outcome, much could be gained. The mass population strategy was – first make it sexy and prestigious to smoke, second enslave through addiction, third ensure a growing number took up the habit to make public policy on banning the use of tobacco impossible and finally with the use of profits generated and taxes raised to support government revenue, ensure ongoing support for their endeavours. By the late 80’s despite the overwhelming and open evidence of the community dangers to heath, the tobacco industry was immune to criticism or control. The masses wanted it, the governments profited from it, the shareholders were prospering from it, and the end game outcome was a perfect fit for the dark eyes strategy. The web of supporters who profited from the continuation of the tobacco industry could be seen by any casual observer, but mattered little by the end of the 20^th century its end game had been achieved and its pockets were full, as were all those involved as shareholders or external stakeholders.

Every activity of the dark eyes would use the Corporation as its cloak. It’s respectability of ‘employment for the masses’ would shield it from broad criticism during the second half of the 20^th century. It could use the power of the markets and the economic model for continued economic growth as a benefit to the community good, individual nations benefit and right to sovereignty, to achieve control and profit. As with the tobacco industry the plans were simple. Make the masses willing supporters by offering security through employment where their future was to benefit, allowing them to consume as much as they wished, ensured their enslavement and addiction. They too would be immune from criticism by policy makers as they were an absolute essential element in generating the revenue that kept the governments operating and nations building strength. By the end of the 20^th century no government policy, however it would benefit the community as a whole, would be made without direct approval of the Corporations.

The food and agricultural dark eyes were early and essential players in the end game. Their job while profiting from a growing population of eager consumers, was to build the toxic time bomb in the food chain to facilitate the end game timetable of 2050. They could not loose in their strategy unless it was revealed early. From the 1950’s under the cloak of food and safety standards and to facilitate longer shelf life, food processing adopted the use of BPA (Bisphenol A) a key carcinogenic toxin for the lining of canned foods and drinks. The introduction of best before dates provided both an out from contamination criticism and a method of increasing consumer consumption and discard of food stuffs. The introduction of a range of food additives and preservatives into all foodstuffs had its winners and losers however with some taking adverse heath effects too early, these had to be discarded. Monosodium glutamate was one of these early losers. The use of a numbering system for food additives solved many of the early problems with consumers and resulted in the consumer becoming oblivious as to the chemical compounds being ingested by them in everyday foods. Later under the heading of lighter and more user-friendly packaging the plastics industry introduced the PET plastic bottle for foods and drinks, again using the toxic BPA as an essential element in the polymer processing. In the early 1950’s BPA was identified by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) as a toxic compound, however under direct intervention from the dark eyes it was filed as of such small risk for single exposure to health, as to be allowed to continue. The residual build up in those affected by the consumption of canned foods wouldn’t be seen until the outcome of the end game timetable had been achieved. Many of the end game chemicals fell through this legal loophole until by 2015 it was too late to take any action.

Partnering with the petroleum industry and chemical industry dark eyes increased food and crop production, became the focus through the 60’s. Spurred on by increasing population growth and consumption rates in the developed countries billions of tonnes of chemical fertiliser were poured annually onto crops around the world. While fulfilling the purpose of higher yields and greater profits, it also fitted with the end game by introducing a new range of toxins into the food chain. Opening up more croplands for food production had multilevel benefits. More profit, more industry, more gross domestic export potential, more employment, served to denude the world of forest cover as crops became of higher value than rain forests and as savannah and grassland soils gave up their carbon content more readily, it added to the end game outcome of higher soil carbon emissions to contribute to climate change and global warming. The added benefits of this push for the use of chemical fertilisers were multilayered, one of the outcomes being the increased requirement for weed and pest control. Welcome into the end game Monsanto.

All economic and industrial activity funded by the dark eyes was designed with the end game ‘end of life’ in mind. Infrastructure was build to last until close to the end game and no further. The strategic plan only needed to support 10% of the world’s population; as a result everything was designed with end of life - end of usefulness in mind. Energy systems were built to contribute to pollution for the climate change end game and as the need for only 10% would be required past 2030/2050 only patch up work on energy systems or sustainable energy development would be considered an end game contributor.

The general populous were conditioned through the 80’s and 90’s to think of disposability and expect things not to be built to last. End of life built into every product and every service created economic activity and fed the purpose of many dark eyes members. Where an element of sustainability past 2050 was seen as an outcome it was discouraged. Examples of this were the advent of recycling whose purpose was to consume less of the finite resources available for future generations, but as there would be no requirement for conservation with only 750,000 left after 2050 this was discouraged by the dark eyes. It also didn’t fit with the economic model for increases in gross domestic product revenue at national levels, or with the now well entrenched consumption habits designed and promoted by the dark eyes to the developed nations populous. Those living in the developed nations by the dawn of the 21^st century had been conditioned to accept consumption as a right of passage and status in their everyday lives. They were bombarded with subliminal messages via every media forum to upgrade their appliances, which inturn were manufactured with inbuilt obsolescence and sold to them as better, faster, improved and cheaper. Everyone benefited at all levels of the supply chain and their actions towards the end game went unquestioned. The increased consumption out of balance with any concept of infinite sustainability benefited the climate change end game by the construction of even more polluting energy sources and the burning of ever increasing volumes of finite fossil fuels in the forms of coal, oil and gas. The dependency to continue with the business as usual was justified as the cheapest and only practical approach to national economic stability for the benefit of the populations in developed nations. No one could argue, even as nations wared with others over oil supplies.

All of the problems facing the world at the end of the 20^th century had the solution at hand. The solutions though didn’t fit with the end game of the dark eyes.

By 1955 immunologists had developed vaccines to rid the world of polio, TB and other life threatening diseases that plagued the third world. There were several outcomes of this that didn’t fit with the dark eyes plans. Once a disease was eliminated, no money could be made from the sale of a preventative medicine or the sale of symptoms medications. In 1960 the cure for the common cold had been stumbled upon in a small medical lab in Holland. This was of no value to the dark eyes as the sale of cold and flu medications ran into the billions world wide every year. The cure would never see the light of day. Medical research had great value to the pharmaceutical dark eyes. While controlling the outcome of what would be released it allowed them to develop treatment medication to first enslave the population and gradually develop the immunity to the drugs that would cure the illness. Building a resistance in the immune systems of the mass population needed to be achieved by the early 21^st century if the end game was to be won. In the 80’s a new player entered the game HIV & AIDS. It had long been seen that many on the African continent added little financial reward to the dark eyes. There was money to be made in war for resources such as those battles fought for oil in the Middle East, but what was the commercial benefit or where did the end game benefit with military intervention in Somalia or other conflicts of a humanitarian nature.

The AID’s cure although discovered in 1984 had no part to play in the culling of the African continent. Neither did the cure for cancers that were an integral part in the goal to be achieved by 2030/50. The overall resistance to antibiotics needed to be achieved by early in the 21^st century when the global population would have reached overshoot levels, so working with the other dark eyes, the banking sector linked through cross investments in the insurance and world stock markets needed to be protected at all costs. The banking sector could not be allowed to fail and was propped up by Governments world wide regardless of the final cost to be paid by countless generations. Countless generations wouldn’t with the end game achieved be of any concern; as there would be none.

TO BE CONTINUED…………….

TIME TO THINK AND TO PLAN

2010-04-11T17:14:00.000-07:00

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.

February 6th 2030.

The previous day February 5^th had been a turning point in his isolation. The Dark Eyes had found him and made contact. After receiving their hologramletter he had paced up and down calming his nerves and pounding heart rate. Today was time to calmly plan how he would reach out to those who were waiting for his next communication. Anthony, Katey and all those at the HAARP complex, Suzanne in her sole isolation, Mathew in New Zealand, Old Joe and Sam and so many others not yet known who were receiving his words of encouragement and hope through his transmissions. There was no choice but to keep sending his hologramletters of support to them but how? And how would he warn them that they too were in the sights of the Dark Eyes?

First he needed to lock the Dark Eyes out of any further infiltration to his system and files. Then he needed to ensure that any future hologramletter couldn’t give them direct access to his system.

He systematically went floor to floor searching for servers and spare parts that he could use to set up a security wall to his main system. He would set it up in the configuration similar to those used by the Remote Server Access Network (RSAN) that he had subscribed to in 2010. After several hours he had all the parts he needed.

The Remote Server Access Network was a world wide archive service to preserve the intelligence and memories of man well into the centuries to come. It acted like a giant vault (time capsule) whose individual client records could only be accessed after the life of those who were contributing had passed. Set with a default time lock of 100 years on the date of birth of the client, his vault would remain secure until July 20^th 2053. He had set up his account at the RSAN base location of Cooper Pedi in South Australia. The area was well known for both its labyrinths of underground opal mines and its year round solar power supply.

RSAN’s sever files and all the archive accounts had encrypted access codes that were designed to be impossible to hack. He had chosen for his account name ZERO Greenhouse Emissions after the book (ZERO Greenhouse Emissions – The Day the Lights Went Out – Our Future World) that he had written that had changed the life of so many back in the first and second decades. The password had been carefully considered when setting up his account. Based on the subheading of the book OUR FUTURE WORLD he had used a three numbers back/ three letters forward/ alphabetical number/ letter system for the account password.

A B C D E F G H I J K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

L M N O P Q R S T U V

12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

W X Y Z

23 24 25 26

O = 12

U = X

R = 15

F = I

U = 18

T = W

U = 18

R = U

E = 2

W = Z

O = 12

R = U

L = 9

D = G

Apart from the archive service, RSAN provided clients with an incoming and outgoing secure source of communication. Outgoing messages were able to be given a transmission delay time of between 6 to 66 minutes and when transmitted, were rerouted randomly 6 to 9 times via RSAN’s 30 worldwide server sites. Incoming messages to ZERO Greenhouse Emissions.rsan similarly collected worldwide and rerouted via the network to the home base servers, could only be accessed or opened, with the password encrypted code.

He tested the servers he had collected from the lower floors. Most would only be useful for spare parts, but one had no security access code installed and was perfect for the job with 1 million gigabytes of clean capacity. His plan was that he would use this to download outgoing hologramletter recordings from the main system. He would then disconnect it before logging into his RSAN account via the new server and this would act as an impenetrable firewall.

He set up the configuration codes on the new stand alone server. The user name he set as ZERO Greenhouse Emissions – and the password would be; 12X15I18W18U2Z12U9G. To test the system he recorded a short message that he planned to send out to everyone to alert them to the Dark Eyes security breach of their systems and his.

“ALERT – SECURITY BREACH – This will be my last transmission via my open access unsecured lines. I will explain later. Search for future transmissions at the call sign ZERO Greenhouse Emissions.rsan

Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you. I will be in touch soon.”

He hooked up the link from his main system to the new server and downloaded the message. He then disconnected the server interface links. Now to test the RSAN transmission and receivable communications channels. He logged into his account and downloaded the hologramletter for outgoing transmission setting it to be received by his incoming mailbox. He set the time for transmission for 12 minutes and logged out.

He walked to the window; looking down onto the empty flooded streets his mind wondered once more to the motives of the Dark Eyes.

He had looked many times into the dark eyes of the collective that had now made direct contact with him. He knew of their number and their interweaved plans of control of the future for their members benefit. Some of the others around the world that now relied on his words of support and hope, wouldn’t know of their long held goals. In 2010 the majority of the 6.5 billion of the world’s population back then, either were unaware of their existence and plans, or were too complacent in their daily lives to be awoken to them. He replayed their hologramletter with the passages again sending a chill of dread down his spine.

“We know your purpose in communicating with these people is to share a little hope with them that the world can heal itself. You and I know this will never happen or that it will return to the idyllic planet of your memories. But your efforts do not conflict with ours and we may mutually benefit from your open communication with them. Time will tell. Our offer is to have you feed certain communications in order that some information gets to them that will benefit them.”

And

“As I said we hold no malice towards you either. You are an old man and have little time left and can do us no harm. There are others we can convince to join us in this role, so should you not wish to assist us we will not take any action against you. We can however should you cooperate with us, make the time you have left much more productive and you will learn how with our help, to get far more out of this new world. You will profit from this alliance. Give some thought to our offer and we will look forward to your positive reply.”

The reference to ‘feed certain communications in order that some information gets to them that will benefit them’ was obviously a lie. These dark eyes were the same people who had knowingly fed toxins through the food and products they peddled for profit that had systematically led to the deaths of hundreds of millions if not billions, by 2015/20. Their plans to increase the mortality rate and reduce global populations of what they saw as human lab rats started in the 1950’s when it was seen that the explosion of what was called the ‘baby boomers’ couldn’t be sustained as an aging population of none contributors. These people, of who he was one, were to be slowly poisoned out of existence. ‘Too many people not contributing – get rid of them!’ had been their unwritten law of rule.

The reference ‘we hold no malice towards you either. You are an old man and have little time left and can do us no harm.’

This reference to his age now in 2030 was true. At 77 and in failing health himself due to their stealth of feeding carcinogenic chemicals with every piece of food packaging, every steel and aluminium can, every plastic bottle, every toxic cocktail used in the products we washed with, sprayed on, or lotion and cosmetics we applied daily from the start of the chemical revolution, hidden under the cloak modern life; of consumerism and economic growth since the 1960’s, had now taken full effect. All of the chemicals built into the genetically modified foods that became the staple diet of everything from baby formulae to breakfast cereal, to the world’s daily bread had now taken effect. Even rigorous lobbying by those who knew of the dangers could not stop the avalanche of toxins entering every level of the food chain, with the GM products also being fed to the world’s livestock and fish stocks. No one could avoid the toxins and most didn’t even know they were being systematically poisoned out of existence. Even when the increases in cancers, tumours and fatal blood disorders were published, all but a few connected the dots. All of the poisons that leached into our homes and lives, into the air we breathed coming from the so called labour saving devices; from our plastic encased lives, our televisions and computers – everything made of plastic all but a few had seen the outcome. Everything designed to be used and dumped. Everything chemically treated in some way or other. Our addiction to plastic had invaded the seas by the first decade on the 21^st century with its toxic cocktail of BPA in a range of polymers including those used to make plastic bottles and diethylhexyl phthalate (DEHP) which caused endocrine disruption that lead to cancers, birth defects, immune system suppression and developmental problems in our children. These residual toxins were fed back to us via the fish stocks of the world that had ingested them.

We saw with the onslaught of climate change and increased droughts how the soils impregnated with billions of tonnes of chemical fertilisers and tainted with the residual toxic cocktail of GM crops, washed into the river systems depriving them of oxygen resulting in the algal blooms that reached a critical global peak in Red Tides and Cyanobacteria Blooms from 2014 to 2020.

So among the dark eyes collective these long time manipulators of the culling of humanity had long since thrived. Also among their collective were the bankers who funded the global motive of economic growth at all costs. These were the backers/ mortgage holders of every global nation. The owners of the world’s governments, the ones that held the world’s debt for profit; those who worked religiously for greed, to position every world governments to be so indebted on the treadmill that every public policy by 2010, was only ever made with their direct consent and approval. These too funded the corporate dark eyes, those who deforested the world to plant even more GM crops to poison even more of a hungry and willing population locked into the illogical sleepwalk of the ‘living and business as usual’ model. Many had lost the will or desire for self determination by the end of the first decade. They would vote to continue as they always had rather than vote for change to a more sustainable future; this the political dark eyes knew. The dark eyes fostered openly the ‘live for today, tomorrow never comes’ attitude. It was sold to us in every product built to be thrown away, and products not able to be repaired. To be replaced with a better model or a cheaper alternative. To be bought on credit to be paid for into the future. ‘Get it now pay later’ had been the slogan of industry and of course their dark eyed colleagues, the Bankers.

The dark eyes of the early 21^st century and their predecessors back in the 1950’s knew that climate change and global warming would take its toll on several billion of the world’s population, so they funded the economic growth and pollution of the world’s atmosphere with the relentless burning of fossil fuels. Every coal fired power station to fuel the economic growth and every economic activity however short lived the prospect. If it succeeded the dark eyes profited and if it failed they profited from the indebtedness. ‘Make money on a rising or falling stock’ was another key to their business plans and to their plans to control nations.

They knew that by 2050 their plan to reduce the global population needed to have eliminated 90% of those 7 billion living in 2010 to slow poisoning although a long term plan (a hundred year time frame 1950 to 2050) it had succeeded by 2030 with an estimated 750,000 now still surviving. There were many in this number who still had no place in their future plans and as he looked down on the empty streets below he knew he was amongst this number.

What was now needed was to alert those others that had no place in the dark eyes future to the new peril ready to attack.

He would spend time going through his archived research of the dark eyes 1950 to 2030 plans and detail their motive and design to all those left eking out survival around the world. This would form a new focus to his daily routine, there was much to review, analyse and relay. One thing was without doubt, their motive had not changed and their plans had succeeded.

It was time to log back in to the RSAN service to see if his test transmission had been sent and then received back into the account.

He switched on the stand alone server and entered the account name and password. ZERO Greenhouse Emissions - 12X15I18W18U2Z12U9G, there it was a single hologramletter. He downloaded it, logged out and transferred the message to his main system. He then disconnected the interface link. It was somehow strange to see his own image materialise as a hologram on the horizontal monitor. His face was drawn and pale, his stance somehow stooped from how he had once been, or even thought he now was. Like listening to a recording of your own voice he thought, it wasn’t what he had expected he would look like.

When making the recording he had attempted to make his transmission urgent and concerned but also comforting to those who would receive it, knowing he would not give up in his support of them, or the hope for a better future.

Had the global population woken up in the first decade to what the future held without their collective outcry for change, not only would he not be standing where he was today in 2030, but the plans of the dark eyes would have failed. All academic now, he thought to himself.

He knew the dark eyes would also receive the transmission and with it, they would have his answer to their offer of collusion. At least with such a short hologramletter transmission they would have no time to do any further hacking of his files. He felt sure they would not have had any access to his research on them, as these records were also in encrypted archive documents within his system.

He loaded the recorded message onto the outgoing transmission file, turned the system to transmit and pushed the send key.

Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you. I will be in touch soon.”

In ten seconds the transmission had gone and the system was taken off line. This would be his last hologramletter to go out via the unsecured line the lights dimmed and went black. He would somehow miss that part of his day where the incoming transmission light flickered, where he would wait eagerly to see who was reaching out. Was this a welcome technology advance, or was it a further distance between his close contacts; with those he too had become dependent on for daily support?

THE JOURNEY AND THE YEARS TO 2030.

2009-12-09T17:44:00.000-08:00

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.

During the years from 2000-2010, weather anomalies grew in strength, and our planet found itself suffering a food crisis. As in decades past, the third world countries suffered most. Prices for staple foods caused more protests; the rising increase in floods and severe drought conditions greatly affected the crops; barley, rapeseed, wheat, rice and corn production massively diminished around the globe.

By the year 2012, the Arctic and Antarctic were ice free during the summer months, adding to solar absorption in the Northern Latitudes with areas warming at 6 degrees C, four times the global average. Methane clathrates destabilised in the shallow coastal shelves of Siberia and Alaska, adding to the ever increasing manmade emissions by a further 5 billion tonnes per annum of CO2-e in methane. The projections of the Science community in the first decade of the 21st century had not accounted for the catastrophic climate change that would follow this methane release, a greenhouse gas 25 times more powerful than carbon dioxide.

Kilimanjaro had also become free of its historical ice cap. The Swiss and Italian Alps saw increased rock slides as the permafrost line moved up the slopes destabilising the areas. Summer snow melt during those early years of abrupt climate change caused landslides and erosion, with some towns being totally abandoned.

By 2014, global emissions from manmade and the natural system were contributing the equivalent to 5 parts per million (38.85 billion tonnes) annually into the atmosphere. This added to the best estimates of parts per million (ppm) rise during the 21st century that had not been included in even the best advice from the Intergovernmental Panel of Climate Change (IPCC) in their predictions for upper level scenarios during the first decades of the 21st century.

The permafrost melt in Siberia's release of methane had reached the equivalent level of emissions of the US and China combined; a total of 50% of global manmade emissions at the levels of 2010, equal to 12 billion tonnes per annum.

In February of 2014, the Ross Ice Shelf (an area the size of France) destabilised due to the warming seas at it base, and collapsed. A large portion of the shelf had been grounded upon bedrock, and its collapse brought with it a six foot rise in the oceans of the world. Hundreds of millions were displaced worldwide -- the abrupt sea rise submerged cities from Florida to New York, the Mexican Gulf States and low lying coastal areas of California to Washington; it swept into Bangladesh, Shanghai and London, and submerged many island nations including the Maldives. The tsunami caused by the disintegration swept so quickly across the oceans few were able to escape and millions perished.

Humanity failed to see this as a wake up call, blundering ahead in their self absorbed dream. The inundation of many coastal industrial centres caused massive toxic pollution events around the world, and inundated coastal ground water supplies relied upon in major population centres, including Florida & Shanghai; the poisoned water supplies further debilitated recovery and tens of thousands of the tsunami survivors refusing or unable to reach safe ground then too perished.

Starting in 2014 and running through 2020, major Red Tides and Cyanobacteria Blooms started drifting their poisons over the coastal cities of the world, coastal wetlands and their ecosystems were wiped out. The blue green algae reached into inland river systems, many of which were already depleted of oxygen and dead of life, or inundated by sea water from rising seas. Sparse to no pockets of agriculture survived, intense heat and radiation having torched the soil; the virus-like spread algae left no areas of water to feed the crops.

From 2014 through 2016, H1N1 combining with West Nile and H5N5 (Bird Flu), mutated and swept the globe with a lethality level of 10 percent killing 750 million people. Right wing radio shows proclaimed in live reports, “As the majority of deaths are in third world nations, this will help with the food shortages upon the planet.”

In 2015 the Hail Mary Project implemented by the United States military as the ‘Plan B’ crisis attempt to geo-engineer the weather by anthropogenic intervention to reduce runaway global warming, resulted in sulphuric rains across the planet, making crop production anywhere in the world almost impossible in the open air. Food riots broke out across the global and rioting and looting in the streets became an everyday event.

Culminating in 2017 the rise in temperature of the tropical Atlantic, now exasperated by a five year Atlantic El Nino created severe drought condition over the Amazon Rain Forest, resulting in the world largest forest fire, burning for months. It was reported that over 70 percent of the rainforest was lost. Media reports at the time tried to assure the public that the smoke from these fires would act as a balance to global warming.

Methane Clathrate eruptions from warming costal areas in Siberia and Alaska occurred, and in many of the areas of the ocean that had until then remained too cold, now were observed with methane welling up across thousands of locations. The results were seen from the air. As the methane rose it depleted the oxygen in the oceans causing dead zones across the globe. It killed everything from Whales to Tuna to tiny krill; the surface of the globe was awash and spreading outward with the global fish die off. Dead and decaying fish filled with toxins from the methane clathrates killed millions of birds feeding off the carcases.

In 2019 with the increased sea temperature, tropical storms churned off the coast of Portugal and Africa. Drawn through the Gibraltar Straight by the warmer waters of the Mediterranean a H1 hurricane hit Sicily head on, completely wiping out the entire population as it worked its way to the Turkish coast and almost completely destroyed Istanbul as well.

In March 2020, the "Big Thunder" began on Greenland and continued for a three week period. The initial break was caused by, they speculated, a deep underground earthquake, with approximately 20 percent of Greenland’s ice cascading into the oceans. Tsunamis began sweeping into Europe and North America. Roughly ten days later the outside perimeter ice, around 15 percent of Greenland’s ice cover crashed into the sea, with the Media on hand to broadcast the event to the world. Mandatory evacuation of coastlines all along the Atlantic were ordered, the world descended into chaos. Three days later, the vast majority of the ice left on Greenland was displaced as the land mass which had been relieved of its weight, shifted upward, displacing the remaining ice sending forth the tsunami. Thus began the domino effect and another monstrous tsunami emanating from the collapse of the Canary islands volcano. The Greenland ice collapse caused an exponentially rapid rise in the oceans of the world as it spread out and circumnavigated the globe, levelling out at a 29 foot sea level rise to the levels of pre-21st century.

Mass chaos had gripped the planet. Untold hundreds of millions more people perished in the global flooding along the Atlantic seaboards. Nations of the Pacific scrambled to evacuate their coastal properties, and broadcasts continued telling the populous there was no danger, there was still time. Panic ensued and mass violence erupted. Remaining Island nations of the globe attempted to evacuate their elites, only to find mainland countries refused entry, in some cases aircrafts were shot down. Poor island nations awaited their fate. Media coverage reported survivors taking to the high seas in small fishing vessels seeking coves and shelter as they became refugees and fugitives at the same time.

By June of 2020, Global ‘Just-In-Time’ delivery systems broke down with supplies becoming scarce. The world in three short months had been thrown into a new Dark Age. Plagues began to spread.

The resulting inability of what was left of humanity was unable to intern the corpses of humans and animals alike washed upon the new shores of the re-surfaced planet. For four long years from 2021-2025 plagues swept the globe, reducing humanity to a mere 750,000 lost and tepid souls, interspersed with mad marauders serving their own selfish desires.

By 2015 it had become known that other forces were working behind the scenes to help reduce the global population through stealth. These were the self proclaimed ‘masters of industry and commerce’, those who had profited while working within the halls of power and behind the scenes with agendas to control what needed to become the reduced number of survivors of any future world past 2050, a culling of the world’s population in a slow bloodless coup was written into their collective business plans. He knew them as the Dark Eyes. He had personally come across only a few of their inner circle in the years before, but had researched in depth many of their intricate initiatives and looked into their eyes many times. Their use of mild but carcinogenic residual toxins in food crops with genetic modification and genetic engineering and their use of chemicals and additives in food packaging and plastics had been widespread and world wide. They had agendas linked through the banking and global support systems to control decisions and policy and bring governments and nations to heal to fulfil their end game; to cull 90% of the worlds overpopulation by 2050 by reducing life expectancy to an average 50 years of age through cancer and other diseases. These plans were well underway by the end of the first decade and irreversible by 2015. They were made up of a collective that had started their plans much earlier in the 1950’s knowing that by 2050 without their actions the world would have reached well past overshoot and consumed every resource on the planet. Along with the outcome of pollution causing global warming, they had initiated the slow poisoning of the worlds population while conditioning developed and affluent populations via consumerism not to be concerned about where the world was headed in the years to come, keeping them in the sleepwalk of modern life. Maintaining the status quo while their plans were implemented had been easy once set in motion.

Now in 2030, no one is safe to live a life any longer without threat of death by violence, disease, or extinguished by nature. The planet now has to again adjust to its new state. Those that have survived in the few areas that still support life fight daily for their lives, or what's left to them.

BLACK EYES

2009-11-28T14:21:00.000-08:00

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.

February 5th 2030

He walked to the monitors and switched the dial to receive. Slowly the transmission began to load and the hologramletter emerged onto the horizontal display. As he looked into the dark eyes that greeted him a sense of dread filled him. He had seen the face before. He had known they would still be out there surviving as they always had by preying on the weak and manipulating all those that they could. They were to a great extent a major cause of the fallen world of humanity; the rulers, the takers, the rich and the powerful.

He had heard of their enclaves being set up in the years after 2015 but had never been in direct contact with any of their number before this day. His immediate reaction was to switch off the transmission before they could hack into his archives, but realised it would already be too late. Their technology would be far more advanced than his rudimentary system. The voice spoke calmly and opened the communication with. “Bob I am not here to do you harm.”

That reassurance was of little comfort but the predator went on. “If I were here to cause you harm, we would have already destroyed all your communication systems and rendered you helpless to ever communicate with the outside world again.” He believed this to be true. And said out loud “So what is it you want of me?”

“We have been monitoring your communications for quite sometime. We know you have the capacity through your memory monitor screens to walk through our recollections and see our emotions and thoughts as we relay them. So suffice to say apart from our direct surroundings here which you will be able to see, I will not be revealing any recollections or feelings in this initial transmission. There will be time enough for that once you have considered our offer.”

He was looking at the memory screens for any glimpse of recollection or feelings being emitted and there were none! This predator’s heart was as cold as the black eyes staring at him.

“As I said we have been monitoring your hologramletter transmissions since the very first day you made contact from your hideaway there in Perth. We have already hacked your system and have all your files including your archives so there is no need for any further concern on your part. We know every thought you have transmitted and all the thoughts and memories of every one of your small band of contacts. At this time we have no malice intended for them either. They are small and insignificant to our purpose. We have naturally hacked their systems also and at this time our determination is to let them go on with their petty existences.”
He glimpsed a reaction on the memory and emotions screens and he saw as the predator spoke these words, a sinister mockery of all those human inhabitants outside his own band of powerful contacts.

“We know your purpose in communicating with these people is to share a little hope with them that the world can heal itself. You and I know this will never happen or that it will return to the idyllic planet of your memories. But your efforts do not conflict with ours and we may mutually benefit from your open communication with them. Time will tell. Our offer is to have you feed certain communications in order that some information gets to them that will benefit them.”

He again glimpsed an emotion on the screens and saw this offer of help to the others for their benefit was a lie. They had no intensions of helping anyone but themselves. He held any feelings or understanding of their motives away from his conscious thought in order that they wouldn't sense his reaction to them, or their offer. That would come later once he had heard what they would do if he didn’t wish to cooperate with them.

“As I said we hold no malice towards you either. You are an old man and have little time left and can do us no harm. There are others we can convince to join us in this role, so should you not wish to assist us we will not take any action against you. We can however should you cooperate with us, make the time you have left much more productive and you will learn how with our help, to get far more out of this new world. You will profit from this alliance. Give some thought to our offer and we will look forward to your positive reply.”

A smile came over the predators face as he signed off. As he looked at the emotions monitor there was nothing. Not a single emotion of warmth; nothing.

This was enough communication with the outside world that he needed for one day. He switched off the system.

His heart was now free to pound in his chest without showing fear to the man with black eyes. He sat silently his breathing and pulse racing. He would not accept any alliance with these people as they had never shown compassion to another single human in their history and they would not start now. He needed to be very careful with his communication when he replied to their offer. This would take much thought.

THE SEASONS OF DUST

2009-09-30T18:25:00.001-07:00

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.

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)

He walked to the monitors and switched the dial to transmit. He spoke his reply to his long lost ‘comrade-in-arms’ for the good of Earth, Katey.

February 4th 2030

Katey it warms my heart to hear from you and to know that you and Anthony are working closely for the few that are now safe within the HAARP compound. I see much of your daily life as it unfolds, on the memory screens I have here. You have endured a great deal over the years.

You spoke of your trials and of your loss of Doc. I can see on the memory screens the pain that still hangs over you. All may still not be lost and one day she may return when she feels her work is done in the badlands. So keep her in your thoughts.

The season of dust has now arrived here and I worry about my ability to keep the solar panels clear during the next four or five months. Although it’s only February 4th 2030 the storms have been getting worse and lasting longer with each passing year. I have had to take the much more labour intensive action to brush the dust from the panels every 2 hours during the season, as washing them is no longer practical with the lack of rainfall for harvesting that now plagues me. My small water storage capacity collected on the roof is far too precious to use for any purpose other than vegetable production and my meagre ration to drink of1 litre a day. I have had to take to bathing from a small bowl only weekly and often my skin feels deprived of its ability to breathe due to constantly blocked pores.

You must tell me in your next hologramletter of how you are surviving there at the HAARP compound with your water scarcity and sterilization issues. I have developed a system of carbon filters in order to clear most of the heavy metals that now invade the rain that falls, but the season of dust brings with it the added burden of lead, asbestos and uranium contamination, picked up from the mining activities carried out to keep pace with our economic greed for industrial expansion in the first and second decades. I often think back to those days when the dust storms first started here in Australia, quickly followed by those in the United States Southwest, China, Russia and throughout the Middle East. The open pit and mountaintop removal of resources had its opponents, but they were no match for the economic, industrial and politically powerful lobbies, working for growth at all costs. Even with the dramatic increases in asthma, leukaemia, cancer, respiratory failure and eye disease brought on by the arrival of the toxic plumbs of dust invading our cities, no one rebelled loudly enough for the open sores on our landscape to be healed with reafforestation programs until it was all too late. The land turned to desert as the variable seasons brought less and less rainfall, or torrential flooding that washed away the remaining topsoil. The water ways, rivers and lakes became toxic highways leading to wetlands that no longer could survive the effluent of mans folly. The coastal habitats once abundant with fish, became polluted and acidic, and finally by 2020 after the collapse of the West Antarctic’s Ross Ice Shelf in 2014 and the Greenland Ice Cap with the Big Thunder in March 2020, the industrial strips along the coasts of many countries gave up their remaining additional stocks of toxic pollution, as the seas rose to invade them.

I remember all too well, as I’m sure you do; as the food riots, killings and chaos spread to every city across the world during 2017, after crop after crop, could no longer be grown as nature had intended; out in the open, brought on in part by the dust storm contamination and the sulphurous rains that fell following the Hail Mary Project to geo-engineer our precious atmosphere with billions of tonnes of sulphurous particles. I wonder what ever happened to the scientist Paul Crutzen? He like you disappeared from sight when the US Defence Advanced Research Projects Agency who administered the disaster, distanced themselves from him in 2016. How many billions of dollars were wasted during those years to try to find new ways of tampering with nature, rather than fixing the problems of carbon emissions spewing from the world’s obsession to maintain the fossil fuel economy?

Had we recognised our interdependence on a healthy planet and spoken out, would those mothers and fathers looting and killing, scavenging for food for their children have become the hoards they were? Would we now be in a world where the people’s voice had saved us, and our political system had returned from the clutch of industry to be a rule of the people?

We will see each other again soon my friend, for now I must return to the rooftop and clear to thickening red dust blocking out the remaining sun from reaching my solar collectors. The storm has increased and visibility is less than a meter, so time is short.

Until tomorrow… Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you.

A HOLOGRAM LETTER FROM KATEY

2009-07-31T18:23:00.000-07:00

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.

Today would there be a message in a bottle he wondered? Had his transmission power the day before been strong enough to contact others and would they fear making contact with him? He turned on the horizontal hologram screen and waited. Nothing……………there did seem to be a strange flicker of light intermittently; or was it just his imagination, brought on by hope that there may be word of others? It faded as fast as it had appeared, like the colours of a rainbow he remembered from years ago. That was something he hadn’t thought would change with global warming. They rarely formed now thanks to mans’ tampering and geoengineering of the atmosphere in 2015. The sulphurous rains now when they came left no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; only bare and poisoned earth.

Again the screen flickered, but this time the image materialised clearly; he smiled recognising the face of Katey.

February 3rd 2030

Hi Bob:

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.

Your friend,
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.

MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

2009-07-17T15:00:00.000-07:00

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.

February 2030.

He stood there knowing there were others with hopes and dreams; with stories to tell of their lives over the troubled years of the second and third decades of the 21st Century.

He turned to the monitors to send out a broadcast to any that would receive his hologramletter.

Today would be a day to reach out to those who were not in directed contact, or needed to tell their story of challenge, inspiration and survival in an isolated world of change. He turned the gauge to its maximum transmission power to reach across the world as it now was, and said:

Who is out there? Is there anyone out there?

Send me your ‘message in a bottle’, so that I might hear ‘your story’ of now and make contact.

This is a very special letter in the series where you can leave your comment (your message in a bottle) as to your thoughts of now and how they may be in 2030. What may become the reality of all our futures in 2030?
Please leave here YOUR ‘Message in a bottle’

MANS' ILLOGICAL SLEEPWALK

2009-07-13T18:58:00.000-07:00

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.

February 3rd 2030.

He walked to the outgoing hologramletter screen and switched on the console. He wanted to share his earlier reflections of the day on what the alternative future by 2050 would have looked like had man continued with its illogical industrial sleepwalk, and its business as usual pace, even without the climate crisis impacts of pollution of the atmosphere. There had been many environmental activists like him on the climate impacts of daily life in the industrial world. But there had been scant activism pointing to the inevitable outcome of eating the planet to death of resources to feed the industrial model in place.

The climate naysayer could continue to spread doubt or question the outcome to man of the pollution of the atmosphere and thereby delay action by those that could have stopped it. But no one could have doubted the ultimate outcome of mans’ actions to rid the planet of the resources on which the system of life and living had been constructed. Only a few had spoken out on the need to de-industrialise the world to a new model. If more voices had been added to this cause, a third revolution may have replaced the industrial past; as it had replaced the agricultural age of man. Had more lobbied for this ‘New age of Nature Revolution’ and de-invented to reinvent the future, it may have moved the world away from the edge of darkness it was now in.

Hello my friends,

To answer the questions of why we had continued on the illogical sleepwalk of the industrial age, isn’t now ultimately needed, as the freefall of resource extinction we had committed ourselves to in the first two decades of the 21st century, has now been overtaken by the catastrophic climate chaos that devastated mankind in the third decade. But I still reflect on it as I had called it in the book, a system ‘Designed for Demise’.

We had lived with a system of finite resource depletion that was leading to the inevitable outcome. The very building blocks of the industrial age had been consumed by a mere generation or two. Resources laid down over billions of years had been profligately consumed without any consideration for the future. All eyes had been closed to the future as if it was to go on indefinitely, with what was taken for granted to feed the system of industrial life, being available to go on; as we had lived in the system, all our conscious lives. Who had designed it, and what was its flaw? Man.

Had climate change not overtaken the elimination of all finite resources, on which the system of the modern world relied, by 2050 the global infrastructure would have collapsed any way. Even in 2000, most if not all base elements needed for the system had peaked and were going into extinction. As the developing nations aspired to the standards of consumption the developed countries enjoyed, competition for a greater piece of the resource pie accelerated the freefall to resource extinction. So the whole system on which industry and its political backers portrayed as infinite, was no more than smoke and mirrors. Even though it was illogical to consider resources to feed the system would be there forever, it would in the first two decades be for the politicians, “Not in my term of Office” for industry “Not of relevance to this years financial return to share holders”. And for the general population “Not something that affects me and mine today”. I had written:

We were on a freefall to the unknown and the ground was rushing up to meet us, with some already seeing it. Like all freefalls, we were accelerating as we descended.

In the chapter ‘Designed for Demise’ I had opened with:

Our mortality is the thing we understand from the time we become aware. We willall die. This is our underlying strength and overriding weakness. The only lasting legacy will be from the children we have who will carry our memory after our time has run out.

Man’s design flaw was built in. You and I cannot be sustained forever. Is this why we have designed all other things to follow the same principle? Designed for demise. Take care of today, tomorrow will look after itself.

If we accept this, maybe the concept of sustainability, of an infinite future, could not have been built into our endeavours, as we planned that future with our demise as the inevitable outcome. As we know we will certainly die, have we designed all other systems to follow us in the developed civilized world? Have we in effect designed end of life into all our activities?

And had continued with:

The model of developed and developing economic industry has a single and simple flaw. It was designed by man and designed for demise.

From the time in history when we changed from hunters and gatherers, we have designed out sustainability. We have discarded any guidance that was provided by nature, which is the model of sustainability, in favour of a redesigned manmade finite future.

We tell our children to share but we show them how not to. Finite resources means going, going, gone. But every industrialized process, every commercial practice, every economic activity, every consumption pattern, revolves around the depletion of finite resources until they are going, going, gone.

My observation had been:

From the time of the first unnatural activity design, we have continued to build on what is a basically flawed process. Even though we can look back and see the outcome for past civilizations whose over consumption of resources caused their ultimate extinction, we choose the same outcome. Our activities are not designed according to the laws and guidance of nature. Each of the cups, whatever the
resource, if finite, will run out—built in inevitability.

Had we started the process of man’s endeavour without knowledge of our own mortality, we may have emulated the natural system. Any future that has a sustainable future, not a finite one, needs to start with a complete redesign. We are good at looking back, not forward. We react to issues, not to seeing them coming.
It’s not our fault, just our training. Live for today, tomorrow never comes. Don’t worry about it, it may never happen.

But we do have the advantage of 20/20 hindsight on this. We can historically see where civilizations went wrong. We can now see a future, which unless we actually want one that is finite, we must change.

Everything I have has come from our collective finite resources. It’s nearly all extracted, milled, mined, distilled and depleted from fossil and finite resources, unsustainable and designed for demise.

I had listed some of the “designed for demise” flaws with 20/20 foresight available to all that were not committed to the continuing illogical sleepwalk of the 21st century as:

The business, economic model of ever increased return on investment,
indefinitely. Designed for infinite sustainability?

The developed and developing country’s drive for sustainable increases in GDP, exports, prosperity, and job growth. Designed for infinite sustainability, or designed for demise?

The short-term election of our political leaders and decision makers—Designed for sustainability of sound policy?

Manufacturing until we run out of resources—Designed for infinite sustainability?

Mining and extractive resource depletion?

Extraction and burning of fossil reserves?

Agriculture for an ever increasing global population—Designed for infinite sustainability?

Plant geneticists working for multinational corporations to genetically modify seeds for crops that will not produce viable seed for future crop plantings. Not only
unconscionable but deliberately designed for demise?

Political and social stability, for the developed industrial model, for a few, not
all?

Water resource depletion of fossil aquifers for current and increasing consumption—Designed for infinite sustainability?

Clearing of rainforests—Designed for infinite sustainability, or demise?

Polluting our waterways and oceans with industrial activities?

Polluting the air we breathe?

Raising the levels of atmospheric greenhouse gases—Designed for infinite sustainability, or designed for demise?

And had concluded the observation with:

It has not been our fault; we have just followed on from the lead we were given. But the future will be our fault, because we now have the indisputable luxury of 20/20 foresight.

We know the future outcome of continuing with “business as usual” and “living as usual” models. Demise!

So as I look out on the devastation that has overtaken mans' short history although the question is now academic with Mother Nature stepping in to halt mans’ folly of the industrial age. I recognise that the demise of the way of life of all human endeavours would have arrived at the door of all inevitably, as sustainability had been designed out. 2050 would have marked the inevitable rise and fall of man and the industrial model of life in the 21st century. Governments knew it, Industry knew it and logic knew it. The industrial age would have gone from cradle to grave in a mere 200 years of finite resources extinction.

So now my friends even though you now have much to trouble and torment you here in the first year of 2030, the few that are now remaining may have an old building block or two left, on which to construct sustainability with a focus on living within the bounds of the natural system. We can now redesign a system based on the principles of living with what can be provided infinitely, taking care of our needs, and no longer with greed focusing on our wants.

Until tomorrow… Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you.

ONE VOICE

2009-06-24T03:27:00.000-07:00

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.

What had we done to infest our world with our complacent occupation he thought?

What was it that made us believe that the outcomes of our continued disregard for nature would allow us to go on unaccountable for our actions?

As he looked at the landfill outcomes of our daily lives of the past, he knew that the answer had been in changing personal collective actions, to those of emulating the natural system; taking no more than could be sustained by nature, accepting that this was the only way to live in balance with how it had all started and how it must now in 2030 be achieved.

What were the lessons left from the past? What were the lessons left for the future, if there were to be one for those who would follow this brief experiment of over indulgence; what would those lessons be?

He looked back and while in deep reflection the incoming hologramletter answered at least one of his questions……… It was the voice of one!

February 2nd 2030

Hi Bob

Mathew here.............

I attempted to make contact with you some time ago and the transmission of my hologramletters didn’t make it through. I hope this one reaches you. As I said at the beginning of that transmission I am not sure you’ll remember me.

We first met at a rally in Perth in December 2008. You were there to protest the Australian Governments stance on emissions reductions, and you were outspoken as I found you to be in the many lectures and public events I heard you speak at after that time.

We only met briefly that day, but you made an impression on me and my girlfriend; now my lost love Emma. Do you remember Emma? She asked you how she could make a difference as the voice of one; and you told her.

You wrote of her in an international on-line publication as to how she as the voice of one could; and thanks to you, did; reach out and inspire others to be the power of one and then the voice of many. She was so proud to have made a difference, and did so to many over the years, until she was taken in 2022. I miss her everyday, but she is still here with me as my soul mate and always will be.

We left Perth to travel to Arrowtown on the south island of New Zealand in 2012. I am alone now without Emma who, as I said has left this troubled world we have created. She was a strong heart and grew each day to help others, but in an error of judgement she tried to help some who would do her harm. Sad, isn’t it, that those we try to help even now would see their own selfish interest above those who have a kind heart?

As I said, I attended many of the talks you gave on the need to change to a safe future during those years in the early days of the struggle. What was it you wrote that changed our lives in that article and the series you ran to inspire others? It was this:

‘At the end of the rally a young lady in her 20's came up to me. Introducing herself as Emma, I was impressed with her passion to become involved. It was obvious to me that she was intelligent and motivated, but her question touched me; "I want to do something, but I don't know how and I'm not sure I could make a difference as a single person (voice). 'How did you do it?'"

I told her some of our journey, which is what I call, 'our overnight success that took us a decade.' On reflection, there are many journeys such as ours, many activists like me and my family who are making a difference with the voice of one. They too could guide Emma and others like her to become instrumental in the changes we need to urgently achieve. They too could motivate others with their stories and they too could inspire the many Emma's out there with their words, actions and visions.

So here is my challenge:

Seek out these people; write their inspirational stories in 'An Interview With An Activist' series of blogs. Help the many Emma's to become the power of one voice. As I say in the book introduction: -Feel no guilt for being part of the problem, but feel responsible and inspired to be part of a solution. A few great men and women may start out being the power of one, but no single great man, no single great woman, from the start of history or into the future, will make a change without collective will. We need collective will, collective effort, and collective vision, for our collective future. You and Yours. Me and Mine. Them and Theirs. Are you such an inspirational activist with a story to tell and an Emma to guide?’

The day when your story was published Emma became the voice of many! Thanks to you she was no longer the voice of one; she believed from that day that she had become the voice of many; as you called it, “the parade of concern that could change policy from just good policy; to good policy driven by good politics.”

From that day on December 16th 2008 when you, I and Emma stood side by side to protest the stupidity of the Australian Government's stance on emissions reductions we became the voice of many. That day when they provided the polluters with 1.4 billion in additional subsidies, we set course and were determined to protest at every opportunity.

We moved to New Zealand to be close to her family in 2013. They like many of the traditional owners; the traditional indigenous owners of our planet; have always lived in harmony as best they can with nature. In balance and taking only what nature in her wisdom could provide. This is still a mostly sustainable society in Arrowtown. It’s a sort of fortress in that the community, although depleted by the global pandemic of 2016, still manages to pull together and help others. I remember that section of your book that you spoke of such of communities. I have it here let me read it to you:

‘In our community you can drive down the road and see signs offering “Free Horse Manure,” “Free Lemons—Help Yourself” and “Free Range Eggs.” Ours is the type of close knit friendly community where when disasters hit, neighbours all pitch in. We’ll turn up with chainsaws at the ready to help clear roads and driveways blocked by fallen trees after storms. We’ll rally to fight bush fires, working together. Our community and others like it, we would learn, would react to the new future with far more calm than many others around the world. These communities, as we had seen in past disasters, would suffer turmoil, social unrest, looting, and fighting over food supplies and water. These urbanized, heavily populated areas, totally reliant on the system to support them, would find it far harder than we would to adjust. But in the long run, it would still be their choice.’

How true it was. When disasters struck after the disintegration of the Ross Ice Shelf in 2014 we saw how (humanity) people reacted. What did we owe to our children I heard you once say in a community forum? “We owe to our children the future we had promised them, when we brought them into this world, a future that has a future. A future we have inherited from our ancestors, but have only borrowed from those who will come after us.”

Emma worked so hard to make this future one safe for all. I believe as a voice of one she achieved that vision. I will strive to continue her work. I am still the voice of one. No the voice of many …………..the voice of Emma…………the voice of you ………………and we are the voice of one any longer.

I hope I will hear from you but if not, my echo will still resound as yours.

Mathew
Arrowtown
New Zealand

LEGACY OF LANDFILL

2009-06-19T15:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Anthony’s reflections on the past as the seasons were in green and vibrant balance had filled his dreams during the night. He had woken smiling as if still there but soon was shaken to reality by the coldness of life as it was in 2030.

There was still an hour before it was time to switch on the monitors and check for any hologramletters from those he was still in contact with, or from others who may find a way of communicating from their isolation. He paced from room to room wishing the time away. Now at 77, time for him was running out, as it had for man with complacent indecision by the world’s policy makers to collectively demand global emission reductions in the first and second decade and return the planet to a safe and habitable world.

The horizon was dark and threatening as he looked out. Extreme storms and cyclones that once only punished the tropical north now regularly battered the southern city of Perth. He feared today another would strike.

He could wait no longer to switch on the monitors. If the hail came as he knew it would it may disrupt his power supply or damage the roof top solar panels. He flicked the switch and was greeted by his old friend Randell.

February 1st 2030

Bob,

Things are getting real bad here for our everyday essential water supplies as chemicals from the old landfills are now leaching through the groundwater into the wells we get the water from to serve our town. On top of that we can’t use the water in the system to fight fires either, because it’s now become flammable due to high level of chemicals contaminating it. I think maybe all that plastic made from oil we dumped into landfill has started to react with the other chemicals we chucked in there over the last fifty or sixty years or so.

Now I have been thinking about this lately Bob, and talking to the others too, coz you said that one day even though they told us plastic doesn’t break down in landfill, you reckoned that mixed with the right chemicals or other stuff we had dumped in there, it might just break down back into some type of fossil fuel like we made it out of, and then leach into the groundwater. I’m thinking that’s what’s happened here.

You and I urged people to stop throwing all the junk in the landfills for decades. They never took what you and I told them to heart and kept digging bigger and bigger landfills to dump in everything they could, including the cocktail of chemicals that now are coming back to haunt us.

...

As he watched Randells thoughts unfold, he remembered telling him and other folks on the radio show back in 2009, about how much oil had been used just to make the PET plastic bottles we used for sodas and water in the US in just one year. His research back in '09 found out that 1lb of PET to make plastic bottles took 0.13 of a gallon of oil.

...

I wrote it down at the time when you told us Bob, that in 2007 we dumped 4,287 billion lbs of plastic bottles into landfill across the US in just that one year. That was the equivalent embodied oil loss to landfill was 557.3 billion gallons or 12.67 billion barrels. I remember you told us that you’d looked at the period from 1996 to 2007 and worked out the oil lost to landfill for 36,350 billion lbs of PET plastic bottles dumped, was the equivalent to a loss of oil used to make them of 4,725.5 billion gallons or 107.4 billion barrels of oil.

Anyway yesterday was the first time we tried to fight a fire with the heavily contaminated water. Truck 81 was right behind me as we arrived at a house fire; they engaged their pump and the water just erupted in flames like it was pure gasoline in the hose. Thinking it was just that hydrant I ordered unit 82 to pump from across the street and the same thing happened.
We lost the house by the time we drained the useless water from our tanks and filled up from the river.

In my now 43 years of fighting fires I have never seen water so tainted that it couldn’t be used to fight a fire. We are now going to have to use water from the river for fire fighting and I just hope the chemicals don’t get into that water source through the storm drains or we’ll then be up shit creek.

Bob I don’t know what it will take, or even if we can, distil the water from the wells to make it safe to drink. I just know that we are going to have to find a way and do it, to survive. Until then, folks that haven’t got their own rain water tanks and filters are gonna have tote their water up from the river while it’s still running in the winter time.

Big oil and chemical companies have screwed us out of a planet. More later, I’ve gotta go fight another fire.

Randell Byrd
Independence Virginia

...

As the now unnamed tropical cyclone rolled in from the north he switched off all monitors and moved to the relative safety of the central room.

He picked up the book and opened it to his warnings back in 2008:

Waste management authorities tell us that there are numerous problems with landfills. They are designed to support the throwaway economy of the industrial system of consumption, which in itself is designed for demise, leaving us an array of legacies. They now with 20/20 hindsight can tell us of methane emissions from commingled waste and its contribution to greenhouse gases, that food, paper, garden organics, and wood will continue to decompose, providing a legacy of emissions added to by every tonne dumped in ever increasing volumes. They tell us of water table contamination. Toxic waste had been historically dumped, with no plans or strategies in place to cope with the inevitable positive feedbacks. They tell us of heavy metals and e-waste contamination, and of organic breakdown and overall loss of resources. They can however admit they shouldn’t have located residential developments on closed landfill sites, or located these sites on flood plains or in coastal areas, soon to become prone to sea level rises.

He looked down as he returned the book to its familiar place on the table near the window. He could see the swirling blue green algal blooms now reaching out across what was once back in 2000, a pristine river system alive and vibrant. If there were others that could see this poisoned landscape now dead and stagnant, they would echo his cry of ‘We didn’t know what we would loose until it had gone.

Seasons of Remembrance

2009-06-16T20:12:00.000-07:00

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.

Today would be a hologramletter bringing back many memories of a world in balance. A time that had, like the many species of fauna and flora been extinguished by catastrophic climate change events in the third decade of the 21st century.

He walked to the monitors to see the past as it had been through Anthony’s memories and how it now was at the HAARP compound.

January 31st 2030

Hi Bob

Do you remember Terry Jacks’ song, ‘Seasons in the Sun.’ This morning, I awoke with this now ancient melody playing in my head. Just like the chorus - our seasons - although they are not gone or altered and who knows when they will be sustainable again.

Normally it is right off to the kitchen/galley to start the meal for the early birds. In this I find much peace and tranquillity. A small sense of home and normality is found in preparing meals. With that ditty running through my brain however, I took some time for quiet reflection.

Closing my eyes, I was rapidly transplanted into the farmhouse where I grew up. The upstairs had five bedrooms, a full bath and a six-foot hallway down its center. That old farmhouse made the place I had on the Iowa River look like a starter kit. In my mind I ran through all the rooms and headed down the bannister staircase, pausing briefly, to glance out the stain glass window upon the landing. There before my eyes was my old dog Lumus, part wolf and part German Shepherd and there stood the old lilac tree in full bloom. A reminder of the blissful days of spring playing baseball, as it was the second base. Across the driveway and a narrow patch of the yard, which lead down to the nearest barn, was a field of winter wheat, glistening, golden in the morning sun.

Down the remainder of the five steps I flew. Walking now I saw the old gas stove: recalling the blower beneath it that spread its generous warmth while lying before it covered in a blanket, upon many a sub-zero winter afternoon, the air filling the blanket like a tent and escaping into the room about my head. Off to the side of the stove were two old oak sliding doors, which led to a formal dinning room we seldom used. I slipped into the kitchen bathed in the early morning rays of yellow sunlight. Looking out the screen door I inhaled the freshness of the air. Peeping into the adjacent room, converted from whatever its original purpose was, to become a plant symposium. I noticed my mother out the bay windows. Out the kitchen screen door I ran, leaping from the colonnade porch to land beside her. She was there tending to young seedlings in the hothouse.

Behind her were the old cellar doors. Another memory of a stormy night gripped me, when my sister and I, struggling against a tyrant wind, clinging to each other as we battled to raise one of the doors and descend into the safety of that underground haven; a haven that was shelter from tornadoes as well as a repository for years of canned produce. The memory of that stormy night in 1969 is a staunch reminder that Mother Nature and I are old friends for I was not picked up upon the wind and whisked unto the Land of Oz. . . . Flashing back to standing there beside my mother and the hothouse, I notice violets growing along the cellar doors. It must have been late April or early May.

I recall so clearly spring back then. You could count upon a gentle transition of temperatures from winter to summer. There was a steady and timely growth of the flora with a greening of the grass, budding flowers, blooming trees, and more budding flowers etc. It was a time when the patterns of nature, the biota and atmosphere were in sync, when the calendar and the weather were on the same page. Fall was filled with gradually cooling temperatures and leaves changing color and floating from the trees, when every evening and weekend was spent outside to reap the joy from whatever warm days were left, before leading into a winter of harsh skies and long frozen nights. Memories of ice-skating under a full moon fill my mind, not to mention anxiously awaiting snow days, an escape from school. There is a thought Bob, what will the childhood of the young remember kindly from this world our generation has bestowed unto them be? It was right then, the seasons, while under change in the early 1970's they still held the semblance of being sustainable and sweet. Of course I was 6-10 years old and my memories may be weak now, or altered in recall to create a more – Norman Rockwellian existence.

Before I floated back to the reality about me, I allowed myself a few more moments in the yard. I stood there batting collected Jonathan apples out into the orchard for the cows to eat. A heinous chore as a child, now a happy memory; see what I mean about recall. I then took a walk around the garden and marvelled at its glory. There were twenty rows of potatoes, twelve each of peas, green beans, horticulture beans (a soup bean). Of course there were the tomatoes, peppers, onions, corn, carrots, beats, cucumbers, lima beans (yuck), squash, pumpkins and radishes, with the rows themselves being nearly seventy-five feet long. The garden is still a very vivid memory. One does not spend twelve to fourteen hours a day as a child, upon a colonnade porch in the shade of an old oak tree shelling and snapping beans and soon, if ever, forget. It is like the memory of that closest barn, with its flaking white paint. A two-sided corn crib with a pathway built through the center for tractors to pass. I can still see the old ladder that leads up into the top, upon the bottom rung hung wires. These were used by me, the youngest in the family, who couldn’t hold a chicken up and pick it at the same time. We would raise and butcher anywhere from 300-600 chickens a year for the freezers. I never became a vegan, although I severely limited my intake of meat. For years I avoided chicken, now however, a chicken dinner sounds like a treat. I truly wonder if there is any left upon the planet? After the millions of migratory birds died and people still ignored the reality before them and wondered what was happening and why. How many bird species have been lost during this rapid climate change?

Then I was back in the barracks. Jay was stirring around looking up at me he asked, ‘you all right, you got a dazed and stupid look on your face?’ Realizing my son knew nothing of my childhood and early home life. I simply smiled back and said, ‘never better.’ As I was heading out the door, he gave me a questioning look, as per my sanity. A look I have seen before and suspect I will see again.

Today Bob! Today I cornered the Rev. Ted Haggard. I suppose I am still feeling somewhat giddy over reliving my past this morning. So forgive me, the writer/artist wants to play. So let me relate to you what happened in a novel fashion . . .

“Ted,” Anthony called out. Ted, seeing him started to turn around and head down the hallway. Anthony had been a fan of Science Fiction in his teen years. He had devoured everything written by Frank Herbert after reading the Dune series. Over the years he had practiced the use of Voice, finding that it actually worked. So, slipping into what he called his drill sergeant voice, he barked out. “Ted! Stop. We need to talk.” A slight vibration was seen cruising through Ted as he froze in his tracks and turned around.

Remarking sarcastically Ted said, “What can I do for you-fearless-leader.”

Oh crap, Bob. Patricia/Katey just came in. We had a momentary lost of power down in the remote horticultural centers. Patricia had shifted their power source to the back up solar arrays. I am heading down with her to the security center to see what is up. I will fill you in later.

...Bob, one of the relay stations out in the mountains was blown up. Jay and Max came into the command center just when Patricia pulled up the image. We had to talk them down from wanting to mount an immediate exploratory mission. It is a given from what I saw that this was the work of the marauders. I suspect they are growing suspicious from rumors floating about that there is an underground outpost nearby, well, that and the fresh produce baskets and plots we have put out. I calmed down Jay and Max, they will go out tomorrow night, the two of them, and set up a surveillance post in the region. I told them under no circumstances are they to be seen. They are not to eliminate anybody, unless they are seen. We want to give off the impression that the relay stations’ power system, while live, does not go anywhere populated. It is a damn good thing that those stations and lines stop at the bottom of the mountain, then are buried deep underground. I doubt the marauders will go to the effort of digging them up and tracing them back here. The plan is to scout the area out, find out what is going on for sure and only conduct repairs if we are 100 percent certain this was not marauder related. I have been reassured that our power supplies are not in jeopardy and there is still ample backup solar power should we need it to replace the geothermal.

Max - now he is new to the unit. I have my suspicions to tell you the truth. I am still not convinced that he is not a mole. Jay and the squad have really taken to this dude. The Sci squad and The Others avoid him like a plague. He is in his early fifties, was a navy seal and in a special force’s unit for the LAPD, or so he claims. He did prove valuable in researching Ted although. He lifted his prints so we could conduct a search on him. The good reverend Ted is a convict. Not to mention his name is not Ted. I will relay this all to you in the next transmission.

For now Bob, even here at the HAARP compound, I am once again reminded that power is a luxury. It is amazing, having been here for less than two years, and once again I take this for granted. It wasn’t that long ago that we traveled north by night, using solar powered yard lights, to guide our way. Of course we outfitted them with black snap covers for easy dousing of the light. We relied upon magnesium fire starter kits I had collected over the years to start fires for cooking and heat. It is almost like we went from being civilized to hunter-gatherers and back again. If you can call what we did and how we lived as civilized? I don’t. With regret I forget that any survivors in the badlands are stuck in a hellish futuristic survivor reality. A reality that even writers like Frank Herbert failed to convey to us.

Until the Saga of the Good Reverend Ted then.

He has come around by the way.

It is time to create a new religion from the chaos of man, with reverend charlatan leading the way. It is time to create a religion based upon sustainability and being a part of Gaia’s cycles.

As always, winging it without a prayer. Foflol.

Your friend Anthony.

He replayed the scenes of the seasons in balance and reflected on the prophetic words of John F Kennedy in the 1960’s “The Supreme Reality of Our Time is Vulnerability of our Planet"

MAN’S LAST FRIEND

2009-06-01T20:54:00.000-07:00

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.

"What is this?" he thought to himself as the incoming transmission light flickered; he watched the screen light up with a face he hadn’t seen before. He saw the old man as he went about his day getting ready to send out his daily ‘message in bottle’. His 2030 call from his own deserted island, his lonely refuge in a troubled world.

...

Sam plodded through the boggy ground and headed back to the house. He knew Joe would be up by now. His early morning strolls no longer rustled up any game or vegetation for him to bring back, but he was a creature of habit and continued his daily routine as he had for most of his years. Behind the closed door Joe was rustling in the kitchen; grumbling and clanging until the coffee was ready. It was an event filled day when they came across those supplies; 2 days walk from where they lived and Joe had fallen through a soft spot in the bogs. Where he landed happened to be an old fall-out shelter, filled with canned goods and crates of coffee. It took them over a week to get back home with Joe's sprained ankle and wrist, but it was worth it.

Sam quietly waited outside the door until he heard Joe walk over to the old make-shift desk he'd built out of salvaged materials after the torrential rains and flooding had turned into the more often than not yellow-green haze that they now live in. Once Joe settled down at the desk and began banging away at the keys, Sam nudged open the door, padded over and sat down behind him. Joe reached down without skipping a beat and scratched Sam behind the ears. "We gots ta keep sendin out da mess'ges Sam, sooner 'er later someone's gonna git 'em en maybe we kin find s'm'uther s'pplies. Maybe today'll be the day, eh boy?"

His transmission was always the same. Joe wasn't much for chat, just wanted to make connection with anyone that may be around...

"'...there anuh'one out there? I'm holdin' up here on a mount'n, not quite sure's 'bouts where, looks to me like 'twer'n ol loggin 'er minin town. Jus me'n m'dog Sam here. Gimme a holla back if ya kin. Shore wud likin t'be hearin from ya. Joe."

Joe sat back waiting for the messages to send with a thoughtful expression, "Wern't so long ago we'd be out trekin up a bird er two were it Sam?" Sampson sat close to Joe slowly wagging his tail. He'd always loved to listen when Joe talked, knowing he never had to answer with anything more than a nuzzle or wag of his tail. As old Joe started rambling on, Sampson curled at his feet. Joe stopped typing... "Used to be that we'd git up 'round'bouts 4 am 'fore the Missus was bakin the biscuits cuz that's when we still hads us the farm'n all. 's all washed away there now I'm 'bouts sure a that."

When the buzz and grind of the old computer's hard drive whirring and straining to send the messages silenced, Sampson stood and waited for Joe to get up out of his chair. Joe grabbed his coffee mug and shuffled back to the kitchen, Sam close at foot, knowing it was time for breakfast. As Joe scraped the last bits out of the pot onto Sam's plate and set it down to the floor, the computer beeped. Sam's ears perked and Joe froze in place, mid-hunch to standing back up. Slowly straightening, his eyes never leaving the screen, Joe read the notice "message received - transmission complete" blinking back at him... the screen went blank.

...

He stood and reflected on old Joe and his faithful friend Sam. The memory of the tribute made to a man’s best friend on a fall day in 1870 came back to him. He searched the library archive file for the transcript of the court case in Warrensburg for the closing words of country lawyer George Graham Vest. He stood by the outgoing hologramletter screen and spoke to old Joe and his ever watchful and ever faithful mans best friend:

Joe and Sam,

I hear your letter from afar and although I can not be of direct help, I hope you both will take heart that others will one day reach out to you. You stirred a distant memory I would like to share with you from a courtroom of a time less troubled than the one we now have created. From 1870 comes the following tribute, and I can see from your love for each other it's as true today in 2030 as it was 16o years ago.

"Gentlemen of the jury, the best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter whom he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us--those whom we trust with our happiness and good name--may become traitors in their faith. The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the 1st to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads. The one absolute, unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world--the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous--is his dog.

"Gentlemen of the jury, a man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in health and sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow, and the snow drives fiercely, if only he can be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert; he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

"If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death."

Joe you will never need for more reliable support than your Noble Dog Sam.

STRENGTH FROM WITHIN

2009-05-27T17:18:00.001-07:00

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.

He had thought through his reply to Victor and was ready to reach out to him to encourage his spirits and rekindle his flame by telling him of others still fighting the good fight, when the incoming transmission light flickered. His spirits soared as he looked into to the laughing eyes of Suzanne.

Dear Bob,

As I've been putting together all my memories from the past, I'm sitting here today in just sheer amazement by the things we've lived through. Our perception of it all is so different when we're living through events. We have a natural instinct for survival that drives us onward. If someone were to tell me 20 years ago I would have made it this far with knowing what was to come; I would have laughed in their face. Not because of the inability to perceive all the trials I was about to endure, but because I felt I wasn't strong enough to endure it.

Looking back, living in the Sonoran desert was, at the time, somewhat of a surreal dream for me. The beauty of the desert and what I had hoped the future would bring in my life at that time is vastly different from what we now find ourselves so desperately trying to survive in. I was so enamoured with the desert, that I hadn't done the homework I should have before moving; though even if I had, it wouldn't have changed my mind even for a second. It was where I had to be... anyway... I learned after moving, that Phoenix had, at that time, been in a drought of close to a decade and still running; but as I said, I had been drawn to the beauty of it so strongly (for years), it was where I had to be. Once I was there, for the first time in my life, I felt I was home.

I was still in what I would call my infancy in learning about the climate change and global warming, what my carbon footprint was in the sands of time, and what I could do to make a difference. Living green and global awareness was growing in the lives of the world. The Green movement continued to grow-- even though it was only a very small percentage of the world, we were beginning to open our minds and eyes to what was happening, a precious few were listening and spreading the word to the scientific data that had been presented for decades now and continually being updated. You heard it everywhere you went. It seemed that with all the eco friendly products, we could make the difference needed, but the changes that were occurring in our world were escalating faster than ever anticipated. It was too little, and far, far too late.

There were studies and projections in the 1990s that had detailed the changes of the earth, and when they were expected to occur at the then rate of change in ocean currents, climate changes, and of course the increasing emissions our societies were spewing into the atmosphere at grossly obscene rates. Even then it couldn't be anticipated that the changes would increase exponentially within less than a decade. The study in the '90s of course projected the changes much more gradually, even as little as over 50-100 years, but not those we would have ever dreamed to start having such an impact in as little as a decade.

When another study was done in 2009 so many more factors were included. The study used the MIT Integrated Global Systems Model - each test they ran (400 in this study) had about an equal probability of being correct. Each time as with any study, they were looking for possible outcomes and solutions; the data they were using slightly varied, but even as such, the numbers and results painted a grave picture for the future of our world. Those results of course were based on the observations and knowledge we had at that time. What seemed so amazing to me then, and still now, was that the MIT model was the only one that was interactive. It included details for possible changes including human activities, economic growth, associated energy use, and how it would be depicted in different countries. It was so detailed! How could the Governments not listen? How could they see what was happening and not want to make changes? I still sit in awe at everything that was contained in that study. Did it influence the minds of the world to wake up and make change? Would we be living as we do now if it had? I don't believe we would. It was blatantly insignificant to the politicians and leaders of the world because, as we know now, they didn't do a damn thing with any show of courage or conviction to create and change policies that would have the effect needed for a sustainable earth. There were particular parts of that article that, if nothing else was listened to, should have been:

While the outcomes in the "no policy" projections now look much worse than before, there is less change from previous work in the projected outcomes if strong policies are put in place now to drastically curb greenhouse gas emissions. Without action, "there is significantly more risk than we previously estimated," Prinn says."This increases the urgency for significant policy action."
...
"There's no way the world can or should take these risks," Prinn says. And the odds indicated by this modelling may actually understate the problem, because the model does not fully incorporate other positive feedbacks that can occur, for example, if increased temperatures caused a large-scale melting of permafrost in arctic regions and subsequent release of large quantities of methane, a very potent greenhouse gas. Including that feedback "is just going to make it worse," Prinn says.

It's funny when we take the time to think back; I remember even as a child, taught to think 3 steps ahead, plan ahead, but yet live in the moment. We were living in the moment alright, but where was the planning for the future? Weren't our politicians and officials supposed to be the voices of unity to create that envisioned future of sustainability? All the changes that we were pushing and shouting to be heard and change implemented by our elected leaders... those that were chosen by US, as a collective united society... these Government Officials, the Politicians who were put into offices to protect us, guide us in positive movements, failed us!! They were to be the roll models, the parents, and we were the children to learn and benefit from their knowledge... we depended on them as any child depends on their mother and father to learn right from wrong, good from bad. What happened to "we the people" so that our voices could be heard? We were smothered, suffocated, isolated into single voices crying out our pleas.

We were working toward making change, but with change and progress, it's always a slow process. Cities like Phoenix were among the first to be considered eco-friendly. There had been an interview of the ASU Environmental Awareness Dept Head I recall watching. He was sombre and reserved, yet inspiring with his recitation of how Phoenix was to be one of the first, if not the first, most environmentally friendly city in the world. Even those projections and changes didn't come fast enough... Change just was not something that could happen as quickly as it needed to. It took time to create the sustainable and renewable energy sources -- and we were already out of time.

The lack of aggressiveness by the world to change their ways- over and over again - is more than evidence enough of the pitifully limited vision of foresight that mankind is and was capable of. The ignorant leading the blind - the politicians refused to admit, acknowledge and do something; the people of the world continued on with the blinders the governments had placed over their eyes to shield them from the truth or let them make the decision and use their voice for change. So we continued in our oblivious lives, unwilling, to learn and without knowing what was about to erupt around us.

Birds starting turning up dead by the hundreds and thousands on coastlines. Scientists asked why? Why have they all starved to death and not made the journeys they have made for centuries until now? Thousands turned into millions...lives lost; "but they were just birds," cried the politicians! Is a life not a life?? Are we not all the inhabitants of this world? This was the last wake up call mother nature would send us before the "natural disasters" became not so much an anomaly occurrence, but monthly, then weekly and daily events. Again people would question, "Why???" -- "Why is this happening???" -- "What's going on???" -- The Governments and Politicians clammed the information up even tighter because "they" didn't want input from the masses; scientists were pleading, no longer reporting the evidence of studies and data... pleading for change, but it was too late. More recollection on those issues another time...

I close this letter to you my dear friend, still with hope; and the strength that I've found in myself over these years... with thoughts of much hope and bright smiles that even through the toughest of times, we continue to have ~ because we are here, we have survived, and we will continue to fight the good fight; and when it's time for us to leave this earth, we will be able to do so smiling because we tried, we made a difference, we didn't become despondent in even our darkest hours.

As always ~ ever in friendship,
Suzanne :)

He flicked the outgoing transmission to Victor and once finished, he replayed Suzanne’s hologramletter to look back on the desert vista she had once loved so much.

Victor,

We have but one life, but we have many; we have but one time, but we have many. We can but physically touch those we care for, but we can touch many.

We can reach out, as you do, and touch many. There are fewer like you and I whose hearts can reach out now; but there are many that you and I can still reach. I will ensure your feelings your memories and your struggle reach out.

I have contact with some of the remaining Earth warriers who still try to reach out to others. I recently made contact with Anthony who you know and trust. He's held up in the far north of Alaska. I can’t reveal his exact location as he's besieged with marauders who have plagued his HAARP compound and his fellow survivors for quite some time, but I will relay your hologramletter message to him.

I have a long time supporter in Suzanne who continues to lighten my days with her smiles and hope. She is fighting still, as you are. We are contacted by many, so don’t feel you're alone in your struggle. When last we spoke back in 2012 you were resigned to the outcome of the Kyoto agreement. I admit I had little hope the global political community would do what was needed and what we all hoped. I held out until the last days of the negotiations. Well not negotiations as we know now, more like corrupt conspiracy of the vested commercial interests who controlled the governments of the planet.

What was it my friend that we failed to see? What was it that many did not understand? Why did they ask the person in the street the wrong questions as to the future they wanted to secure for their families the ones they cared for?

We will never now know.

Patricia and Alex and how they played in the memory screens as you spoke brought back such joy to you and to me. You will never loose those feelings and we will revisit them through our dreams and hopes for the future. Suzanne once shared this with me, it has brought me some comfort over the years, as I hope it will now bring to you as well:

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, but love... Love leaves a memory no one can steal."

When you rest and sleep tonight in the dreams of the past and your hope for the future, be assured I will be looking back on those days and asking the question I have now asked since the Big Thunder on Greenland and the loss of the Ross Ice Shelf in 2014, when the outcome of mans folly and complacency killed billions. Why did we not listen to the past that laid out the future; when did we stop listening to our logic and hearts?

Until tomorrow… Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you.

HOLD ON TIGHT

2009-05-21T07:25:00.000-07:00

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.

Seeing Alex and Patricia once more as they were in Victor’s memories, took him back in his. He had once asked the question of all that he met, as he asked in his book…. “What do we owe our children?”

He had penned……… and now in the quiet of his solitude he would speak those works again to all that may hear. That they might now answer that question; and hold on tight. He switched on the outgoing hologramletter transmission to share his “What did we owe our children?”

There was a native American Indian saying, "We don’t inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children."

What was it that we borrowed from them?

Their future was in our hands. Their safe future was in our hands.

From the time as parents that we brought them into the world our promise was made. Our promise to hold no tight to their hands; to hold on tight to their dreams; to hold on tight to their future.

Did we ever have the right to let them go? To turn away from the promise we had made? To releases their dreams? Or to abandon our hold on their safe future?

To leave them to solve problems for themselves; to leave them to solve problems we had inadvertently created? When was the time that we would say; sorry, sort it out for yourself? When we would say I no longer want to hold on tight?

In the book I gave a part of myself freely to those who would read it.

He picked up the book and read --

………..The problem we face is a self-imposed journey to oblivion or a change of direction, to one where we hopefully still have somewhere safe to live. Can we not liken our grave and desperate situation to a person sitting in a doctor’s office? The doctor says: “You are not going to like the news, you are very, very sick. The treatment and medicine to make you well again is going to make you even sicker than you feel at the moment. It is going to take a long time for you to get well. But, if you don’t take it, you will die. What would you like to do?”

There is a really hard choice here for you (the reader) to make. Your children or your grandchildren are going to die from what you and I have passed on to them. Do we leave it to them to suffer alone, taking very hard medicine and treatment to swallow and even then they may not survive, or do we take some of the preventative medicine for them now? Which parent when their child was ill or in pain, would not have wished we could have taken the pain from them onto ourselves? My youngest daughter Emma at age 19, after a massive, unexpected, and sudden asthma attack, could not breathe. By the time the ambulance was called and she was rushed to the hospital we had lost her twice. She had died. They revived her and she was in intensive care for quite some time. As we sat by her bedside in constant vigil over the next two weeks or so, there was not one thought or doubt in my mind that I would have willingly traded places with her in a heartbeat. I want my children to have the future I dreamed of for them, from the very moment my wife and I brought them into the world. How about you? How about you Mr. Prime Minister? How about you Mr. President? How about any political leader of any country on the planet? How about the wealthiest person on the planet? How about the poorest person on the planet?

Would any of us not give a kidney to our child if it meant they would live? Do we take some medicine for them now, or do we wait until they need to spend their lives on a dialysis machine or on life support?

Global Statesmen….Ask us the right question and you will have our answer. Ask us do we want to protect finite economic growth in gross domestic product for a short time into the future, or do we want short-term pain in precious GDP for the security and future of our children? I won’t vote you out of office and I don’t think the majority of the people who elected you to the honour of being our political leaders, would either. Should your legacy be as the leaders that led the world to collective genocide, or snatched life and victory from the hands of defeat? It’s your choice—no it’s our choice.

He put down the book.

From the time we brought our children into the world until the time we are taken from it; our pledge to hold on tight to them, to commit to them, to honour that Indian saying ‘we borrow the future from our children’ must be a sacred oath.

They say that God created the Heaven and the Earth and he placed it in our care. We must daily ask ourselves if we are doing everything we can to honour that pledge and the scared oath we have collectively made to our children. By seeing the creation of a safe future for our children as a self imperative we can change ourselves with small acts even now to build a future for them that is as it was, left to us by our ancestors.

Hold On Tight

performed by Taylor Penrose

written by Howard Salmon.

Listen to her plea and give her your answer. Will you hold on tight or let her go?

BLAST FROM THE PAST

2009-05-18T14:06:00.000-07:00

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.

Awaiting a transmission or two while his communications system held up was something he looked forward to each day. Hoping that just one more person would be added to the number he was now exchanging messages with, this made the day a little more bearable. After a couple of hours of replaying transmissions over and over, which helped with the boredom and the perpetual loneliness, a new message came in. It was from Victor in the U.S., an old friend from years ago and someone he had lost touch with before everything fell apart.

Bob,

Oh my God, am I glad to have found you. Things have really gone to hell in a handbag, haven't they? How are you doing? Where are you? I know, a lot of questions, but being in almost complete solitude is enough to drive one batty. Getting to that, I guess I better let you know, I lost my wife Patricia and our son Alex a couple of years ago. With no hospitals in service and no medical doctors to be found, getting ill is almost a death sentence now, and in their case, it was. It's amazing what we take for granted. When we had the doctors to go to, we would complain about the cost and how they were going to stick us with needles. And now, I would have given anything to have had a skilled physician at their bedside, to prick them with needles and poke them repeatedly, to make them healthy again. I lost them and I still deal with it daily.

He looked at Victor’s memory screen as he spoke of Alex and Patricia and saw them again playing happily in the fields behind their summer cabin….. What price now would we pay to return to those safe and happy days? What price should we have paid? …….he mused

I have to admit Bob; I didn't heed your warnings. Yes I read your book and supported what you were doing those many years ago; I even put in some solar powered lights and tried to cut back on the amount of unnecessary driving I was doing. I really did try to reduce my footprint on the global climate. Hell, I even printed out and signed some of those letters to the U.S. Congress. But like a lot of other people, I just didn't give it much thought other than how much of a nuisance “being green” was having on my everyday life. I watched the television series and the movies they made about the result of climate change and thought, “That'll suck, glad I won't be around for that shit!” Yeah, I thought I would get in the last laugh.

You know it never really hit me, even though it was repeatedly being said that, “our children would pay the price”. I just never thought I would have to live though all this and I definitely never paused to think about what my family would have to endure, were they still here. As the waters rose and the overcrowding started to happen, from the millions of people who lost their homes to the oceans new boundaries, I started to think back to all that you said. To everything that was said by thousands of others and that is when I really began to worry about climate change and its impact. Yes, sad but true, you did try to warn us all. Of course the overcrowding caused the diseases to run rampant and then there were the virus mutations. That’s what got Patricia and Alex, a mutated form of the West Nile Virus, it wiped out over one quarter billion people in the states before all was said and done, at least that's the estimate they are giving us. Flooding and stagnant pools of water became the breeding grounds for mosquitoes, hundreds of thousands, if not millions that started infecting everyone.

As the population started to decrease some of us thought it wise to get out while the getting out was good. About fifty others and I started out on a pilgrimage of sorts, to find a less crowded and definitely healthier environment. We left the city on one full tank of gas that, I don’t like to admit, we stole. The cities became a looters paradise, people simply became monsters. Yeah, I know all too well that you watch the movies and see people banning together to survive and that's what you would expect, don’t get me wrong I witnessed this. I also witnessed cruelty and barbarity unlike anything I had ever seen. Sometimes I find myself thanking God that my child didn’t have to finish living his life in this new world. I know that sounds harsh but you’ll do anything to protect your children and you would never want to see them in a position where they have to struggle just to survive.

Our small group started out hoping to find a less densely populated town or city to inhabit. I figured that once the gas ran out we could cover about one mile per hour and several miles per day on foot, and we did. We camped along the way, hunted, the living off the earth kind of thing that our ancestors did. Believe you me though, I was never much of a hunter but luckily we had a couple of guys that went on yearly hunting trips. They taught us all how to hunt or trap, fish, skin and prepare our wild game. It sort of feels good when you get to the point where you can provide for yourself, knowing you won’t have to go hungry just because the local grocery is closed down. Don’t get me wrong though, if the arches at the local McDonald’s were still lighting up, I’d be in line. Food has always been one of my weaknesses.

It only took us about six weeks to find a town that wasn’t overrun with people and that had a nearby “natural” water source. Not that we would find a working faucet in a building anyway. After things fell apart and people stopped showing up for work, the water systems that we all relied on, simply stopped working. With no people around to maintain them they eventually just shutdown on their own. We setup shop in a local office building and started going through the town looking for anything that could supply power. We picked up gas generators and solar power lawn accent lights, anything and everything that could be used to help us have power for lights and occasional transmissions. It was hard but I did convince the group to hold off on using the gas generators for a time when we would really need them. I used the fact that the gas powered generators were just one of many reasons why we were in the situation that we are now. Honestly that didn’t go over to well, but the possible emergency need did.

That brings me to the fact of your book; I found another copy of it in the local library here and began to reread it. Yes, I did read it the first time through, honest. I began sharing your knowledge with everyone here in a hope to help the people understand what caused this and what our responsibilities in the future will have to be. I'll be the first to say it, knowing it’s too late; we should have been paying attention to the climate problems long ago. Mankind can be arrogant and self righteous beyond logic, that's for sure. Your book provides a wealth of knowledge and I only hoped that I could help this group understand it and imprint on them the importance of the material. We need to pass it on to our children and their children so that mankind does not repeat the same mistake twice, if there is to be a second chance. From what I’ve seen and know though, mankind is becoming the endangered species.

I have to go now but in my next transmission I’ll tell you all about what happened with the group and how I came to be on my own. Hopefully I’ll be on full solar power by my next transmission to you. I've found some documents in the archives that I'm using to build a solar power tower of sorts. I've never really been any good at the mechanics of things, but I think I can follow these plans and work things out.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Your friend,
Victor.

“Tomorrow, my friend; I will reach out to you tomorrow. Patricia and Alex have never left you and your memories will ensure they never do.”

LOSING THINGS

2009-05-12T14:36:00.000-07:00

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.

The heat radiating from and on the windows seemed as if it would melt the glass. Summer in Perth, had once been a time to go out onto the beaches and enjoy the sun, the water and the afternoon sea breeze. They had called it the Fremantle Doctor as it would bring welcome relief on a hot summer’s day.

He remembered back to 2005 when he noticed the first effects of global warming. He had stopped his summer sunbathing around the family swimming pool where he lived back then. There was a discernable bite to the sun, even on a spring day when temperatures were pleasant. An extra sharpness that penetrated the skin could be felt from the sun. In those times there was only an additional 1 watt per square meter of thermal warming on the planet. Here in 2030 it was well past 2 watts and now that scientific monitoring no longer took place, it may have been even higher.

They gave little thought to these impacts back then, but the gradual rise had taken its toll on the parched soil, that had long since given up its carbon content adding yet one more positive feedback, to global warming. Billions more tonnes released into what he had coined in the book ‘The Sky Bank Carbon Account’. One more tipping point reached and then breached. Just one more outcome of mans folly.

He had left the monitors on today, as his photovoltaic cells were gladly accepting full charge. What a luxury given freely by the sun. Ironic, he thought, that with mans tampering of the natural balance, this free solar energy would lead the world to where it was now.

The panel lights flickered and Anthony’s greeting also warmed him.

Greetings Bob:

So, how does it go for you today? I hope you’re making progress on your power cells.

Things are starting to come together here. Thanks to you, Katey has come around. Now don’t get me wrong, we still have several issues of contention, but at least we can talk through them and her input is proving invaluable when it comes to making decisions. She’s quite possibly the smartest person I have ever met, and I’m sure this proves cumbersome to her at times. Why, having to deal with me is why?

I have been thinking a lot lately Bob, who should be left in charge when something happens to me. (A temporary successor until an election can be held.) After all, we are fortunate to have made it this far, you and I. What bothers me most is that there seems to be nobody who can straddle the opposing viewpoints of the group, no one who possesses the diplomatic ethos to elicit artful compromise. I may have to start some mandatory classes in conflict resolution. In fact, it is a good idea; you make for a great sounding board. LOL

People! How they frustrate me. This morning, however, at breakfast I lost it. The silence that filled that room amazed me. I couldn’t help myself Bob. Some people even now fail to comprehend what happened! Among The Others is a woman whose idea of work must have been dictating responsibilities to her staff. This in and of itself does not bother me. What gets under my skin is her constant yammering and carrying on at breakfast about her dreams! Once again, this morning, she was expounding upon what must be her favorite reflection into the past. She was wishing somehow that things would return too ‘normal,’ so she could return to her mountaintop cabin in Colorado. She has gone on and on about this log mansion with its twenty-seven rooms, three bathrooms, two kitchens and the carefully landscaped terraced hillside, where her staff worked to keep everything picture perfect. Apparently from listening to her, it was just her daughter and she that used this home. Yet the staff, who were allegedly housed in rather small cabins out of sight and out of mind, stayed there the year round maintaining everything. They even had a helicopter pad to bring in supplies. I guess the only other way in and out was a rather precipitous climb. I asked her once if the power supply was independent of the grid, or how they managed to run the place. Giggling she said, “Of course not silly, my husband was a hedge fund manager for a conglomerate of energy companies. We had lines ran up the mountain from the Denver Power Company. You could see the path straight down the mountain through the tree-line.”

Needless to say Bob, I don’t hang around this woman much. I lost it this morning, like I said. Throwing my coffee cup against the wall, I started yelling and screaming at her asking her if she failed to realize that it was blind self-serving indulgent fools, such as her and her husband, who created this current world she found herself in. Actually that was probably the nicest thing I said. I guess I went on for about ten minutes. At the end of which I just stood there glaring at her, as she stammered trying to find something to say. She started to cry, spun around and went running from the galley. Of course everyone was looking at me like I was a demon monster. Seriously although, I am amazed that even now, after having survived and lived through this nightmare, there are still people that will not acknowledge their part in the destruction of our species and the chaos we have caused within the cyclical patterns of Mother Earth.

I tell you Bob at times I envy you, alone in the solitude of the wastelands. You should be here and I there. You were always the one that preferred to be out in front. The one to mingle and mix with society. I on the other hand, had retreated from society shortly after the turn of the century, perfectly content to work the land and spend time in the river bottoms. Storing up my memories of them as I knew the landscape was about to change. I highly doubt now that the Iowa River carries a stream for the entire season. Has any of the timber managed to survive, doubtful? For several years every season I was blessed as foxes would make their dens in relative close proximity to my home. It was wonderful to see kit foxes playing in a pasture by their den, or out in the woods scampering over the landscape. Why, I ask you, why with all the voices that had awakened, why did humanity continue to plunder this planet for its own selfish comforts? We knew, and several writers cried forth alarms across the globe. The scientists of course knew first, they presented their findings, spoke until they were blue in the face. Some of them even lost it and could be found in the hollowed halls of our great civility, screaming at our pre-posthumous leaders to take immediate action. Yet, in the namesake of greed and complacency, in the shameful feckless fear of the status quo, they let the sixth great extinction event, manmade; roll unheeded without ever seriously attempting to stem the flow. How many species are now extinct? Back in 2009 they had predicted one-third would disappear unless we changed our course. This was based upon information that wasn’t up to par with the reality of what was happening. I’m just guessing of course, but it wouldn’t surprise me if we lost 80 percent of the higher life forms on the planet.

Yes, Rosa could bring up satellite imagery and let me see what the environs of my home look like. I would rather not witness that. In the stillness of sleepless nights and in the restless dreams I have, it is to my home and those river bottoms that I travel in my mind. Upon that old deck by the house and out in the orchard I walk and visit with family, friends and loved ones from the past; odd how the distance of time changes the reality of life. Now, I seem, too always win the debates standing there beside the garden, under the shade of the pear trees. It is through the faded memories of our past that we transform the tortured experiences of our lives into the cherished memories of the golden years. We forget the heat, the mosquitoes, the quarrels we had with friends and foes alike as they become conversations of civil discourse. I cherish these misconstrued recalls. They ground me in my current reality. I wonder although, with so few people left, does the past, through guilt, regret, or remorse drive many of the marauders in our collective mist to strike out upon the remnants of humanity?

So, I left the galley this morning and went down to Vicky’s lab, escaping from everyone else to tell you the truth. Hardly anyone comes into her lab, as she will go on and on about genetic sequences when you are there. With the exception of Katey and Rosa, no one here has a clue what she is talking about. I am sure it makes people feel uncomfortable, and well, stupid. I grew accustomed in life to being a latter day renaissance man, a poor example of a real one I might add. I found the state of the American educational system from the 1990's on, so sad. It was almost as if they were intentionally trying to create a society that lacked the ability to engage in critical thought. I became so irritated at times with so-called specialists, experts in their own field; however, without a diversity of knowledge they failed to apply their craft in an ethical/judicious manner. Yes, I was and still am bitter.

So anyway, there I was ranting and carrying on as Vicky was running tests. Occasionally she would throw in a ‘huh-huh, yep’, or ‘oh so true.’ Mainly I was there to vent. I didn’t really think she was actually listening to me, as when I respond like that I’m not paying attention to people. After getting myself all worked up again, over losing it on that poor woman, I ended up ranting about the Sixth Great Extinction Event. I was practically foaming why, why, why? She was looking at a display from an electron microscope or something and simply pointed to the wall. Gazing over there I saw a new quote she had posted. I loved the old one. I have to relay that to you first. Something I wish our members of society would’ve taken to heart. “I rarely ever quote; the reason is, I always think,” Thomas Paine.

The new quote she had up was from a book I had read four times. It was a great escape, a classic, and the time period was intriguing. So from War and Peace, Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoi.

“In historical events great men – so called – are but the labels that serve to give a name to an event, and like labels, they have the last possible connection with the event itself. Every action of theirs, that seems to them an act of their own free will, is in an historical sense not free will at all, but in bondage to the whole course of previous history, and predestined from all eternity.”

With predestination a pillar of the Christian faith, I began to wonder about our little botanist! She anticipated my thoughts although, as I find many in the sci-squad are ahead of me, leading my thinking to conclusions or at least to avenues of reflective thought. You really have to admire and respect an intelligent woman, a weakness of mine. She said, “Leaving aside the concepts of free will and predestination, we have arrived at this point in human history. Despite the noble actions of so many voices/activists, group think carried mankind to this point of near extinction. In fact, I believe we are an endangered species, who may not survive long in the new epoch. Now is not the time to ponder why, now is the time for action.”

I thanked her, wrote down the quote and jotted down her words as well. I present them as a quote to you, although it is really just a paraphrased comment. I have been pondering upon the closing words in that quote. “...but in bondage to the whole course of previous history, and predestined from all eternity.” It makes me reflect upon Plato’s Timaeus and Critias, his depiction of the great city of Atlantis, echoed forth from the Academy. Are we somehow the new Atlantis, a replay of mankind’s foolish errors? Will the new epoch create a toxic brew of atmosphere that will retrograde our species sentient abilities, delude us of our mental capacity and regress us to tribal memories? Also, will this be better or worse than the marauders? I have no idea what the future will bring. Vicky however, with very few words has pushed me toward a new dedication. I will find and/or cultivate a new leader. Someone who, when I am ready to step down, will have the ability to play Kennedy, Kissinger, FDR and Theodore Roosevelt all in one.

I’m off to find the good Rev. Ted. It is about time. I have to have a little chat with this man. It’s scary, this role of leadership that the tides of life have thrust upon me. Most of my life was spent as a spectator of humanity making commentary upon the ebbing flows. Now, I question myself daily and cannot show it to those around me. I find myself at times being doctorial in nature, rationalizing that desperate times deserve desperate measures and remembering that absolute power corrupts absolutely. I did not ask for this, nor do I want it. We stand upon the cusp of a Brave New World, wish I had a copy of that book right about now, along with 1984.

Stay safe, and stay wise my friend.Winging it as always.Anthony.

LOL, I was once told “Anthony” meant fortress of faith. Oh when did I lose mine?

................There were deeper insights into Anthony’s thoughts than he had previously relayed. He was becoming more philosophical and reflective on the past, and on the future. He was becoming more resigned to his and the collective destiny of man that was now irreversible.

Anthony was, Bob thought, quite wrong about one thing...... he was indeed where he wanted to be...... alone.

He stepped back from the screen, and as if wanting to have Anthony hear his words but not, he said out loud:

“Anthony my friend, we are where we were destined to be, long ago. Too many others had made that choice no longer ours. For me though my friend, the time that I wanted to embrace the company of man, the close interaction with others, or the openness of direct contact has long since past.

Anthony, I was blessed as many never were, by sharing my life with a soul mate and kindred spirit. How fortunate I was and how much now is gone; makes this, the right place for me to be; alone. With your newfound understanding, I think, should I speak these feelings to you, you would understand. But Anthony; even though I speak them here to you now, where you cannot hear them, they will never be uttered to another living soul. The only one that can now hear the words of my heart... the only one who will hear them is...... my soul mate.”

WHEN SOMEONE GOES

2009-05-09T17:52:00.000-07:00

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.

Today there was a thickness to the air. He could see through his upper story windows the layers of pollution that hung over the flooded city. It was as if they had been individually and painstakingly laid out, one on top of each other. Unlike the smog haze that regularly filled the air in the first and second decades of the 21st century; the last century of man, that had been the result of millions of tailpipes spewing carbon into the lungs of the earth, this was the result of toxic fumes now lingering on windless days from the chemical plants and industrial complexes submerged along the inundated coastline. Contributing to the stagnant haze was the methane bubbling up through the waters from the landfill sites that were poorly sited in days gone by, in what were now permanent flood plains.

Suzanne’s letter and reflections brought back memories of his own; memories of May 1st 2009. A day he had celebrated quietly every year since. That was the day when a very dear friend lost his battle with the scourge of the 20th and 21st century, cancer. What had we done to cause this insidious plague to grip our way of life back then?

With our industrial systems we had turned our attention singularly to the use of fossil fuels. Our chemists, engineers, and scientists had manmade solutions to almost all our business as usual consumption, from plastics, to cosmetics, to drugs, and to the foods and preservatives we had ingested. All of these systems we could now see resulted in negative, damaging and catastrophic outcomes. Mother Nature could show us that she can take sodium (that explodes in contact with water) and chlorine gas (the yellow killing gas), and combine the two to make sodium chloride—salt, an essential component of life (2Na2+CL2 + 2xNaCL).

Why did we not follow in her direction in nature? Instead we combined our manmade creations into a cocktail of toxins in our bodies, in our food chain, in our industrial pollutants, and in our landfills to prepare a ticking time bomb.

We engineered ourselves into receptacles for harmful residual drugs. The face cream we used to moisten our skin and the petrochemical-based perfume we sweetened our bodies with combined to react with the preservatives in our food. We had created a positive feedback of our own so that cancer, leukaemia, asthma, Alzheimer’s disease, and depression were plaguing our lives more and more each year. We had used our alternative wisdom to genetically modify our crops and animals with toxins. Our chosen course had set us up to collide with thousands of other native species with whom we shared our planet and on whom we relied in order that we too may survive. Our disregard for the natural processes of nature set us on a course away, that those few that now survived had to find our way back from.

He switched on the memory screens to once more see his friend as he had been so long ago………………

Jeremy Robert Parker was his name. Jerry was born on the 24th of August 1947, only 62 years old when he passed; 15 years younger than Bob was now, in 2030.

Jerry was a soul who had left his mark. Not just for what he had done, but for those that remembered him, his sons.
Jerry had not fulfilled his dreams back then of becoming a professional musician, he had opted for the safer road to being a provider for his family, he had become an accountant. He still lived his dream whenever he could and entertained many with his music. Passionate as he was, he left the job of professional entertainment to others. So every year on May 1st he was again remembered for who he really was.

Jerry was a father…… a husband……… a dear friend. Jerry Parker was special.

What was it that touched us so deeply about someone we lost that we knew, but touched us not for those we didn’t? What was it about the humanity of man that could watch others in hurt and in pain, in peril or in danger, and not see that they were as with Jerry of infinite value to be honoured and praised? Cherished as if a family member; a family member of the family of man.

So what do we leave behind? What is it that makes our place and our being here noteworthy and lasting?

It is our children and their memories of us and in those whose paths we cross and touch, while we are here. What we did, what we contributed is our lasting legacy.

Not how much we had, not how we got it, but the way in which we did it.

So Jerry’s dreams were all fulfilled, with the deeds of those he taught, and with his sons. Jerry didn’t make his mark as a musician he did it as a father and as a role model. Jerry went on May 1st 2009 a long time ago now. Behind he left the commitment of his sons to his dreams. One short week later his youngest son Kevin and the band that would go on to become a world sensation ‘Tame Impala’ were awarded as the best up and coming new band in Australia. That night just a week after Jerry left, sent a spark that would have reignited the flame of pride that he felt for them while he was here.

So why was it he pondered that every parent hadn’t felt the same commitment for their children that he and Jerry felt for theirs? In 2030 it was now too late for the question to be asked and answered.

Still he reached into his memories for another long since gone, but never forgotten and he said; "I'll see you in my dreams"

REFLECTIONS

2009-05-07T01:00:00.000-07:00

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.

What was it about memories that he found so hard? After all, there were many happy times to remember and these were as clear through the memory screens as those of the destruction and chaos that had taken place in the years after 2025.

Rosa’s letter, the day before had given him much to think about. Unlike him in the dimming twilight of his years, she was still only in her early 40’s. He had made a difference for her and where she had focused her life’s work. She at least had taken up the cause after reading the book in 2009.

Hers was another voice added to the parade of concern to the politicians at that time. But they, with their vested self interests and in the pockets of the powerful, succeeded in blindfolding the public from the inevitable outcome of living life with complacency.

How did they sit there each day in front of their plasma screen televisions and watch the deaths of millions from lack of clean drinking water? Did they know that to produce each New York Yankees T-shirt took 550 gallons of water; and their designer label jeans they wore back then, consumed enough to save hundreds from dieing of thirst at 2,390 gallons for a single pair of jeans? How many pairs hung in the wardrobes of those that did not need them?

Who knows now what was in the thoughts and in the minds and in the hearts, of those that could have made a difference; made a change?

He set his thoughts on happier memories. Today he must return to hope. There is still much to do, still much to contribute; still much to fight for.

The incoming transmission light flickered to life…………Life was still struggling to keep a foothold for the future, albeit for the future of a few, not billions. They were gone and the family of man was worst for their passing.

It was the smiling face of Suzanne that now greeted him.........

Bob,

I've been spending some time these last few days reflecting on the past. Lost in my thoughts, I found myself turning to your book, "Zero Greenhouse Emissions: The Day the Lights Went Out" for, in my own way, comfort and solace -- it was there for me as always, waiting quietly on my desk to be picked up and read yet again. You wrote something that even then was a question constantly growing and becoming at that time, almost an inescapable image of desolation at what the future held in my mind. As I started to read these first few words I knew there was hope; "Much of what has been written about man’s activities and their impact on the environment and atmosphere has been put in terms that the common man has had some difficulty understanding." I wanted to learn so much more, it became an insatiable quest for knowledge about what could be done to UNdo man's indiscretions, desecration and consumption of the earth's finite resources; to, as you said, "undo the errors of the past practices." I was struggling back then to process and understand all I was learning, becoming frustrated at the turn of every page, search of website after website, by terminology and scientific reports.

It was this very moment I knew I had found my way... enlightened with the understanding I'd been so desperately searching for. Over a decade of anxieties washed away as I read the introduction and those opening words. I started from the beginning as I always do, got to your paragraph about "the throwaway society we have [had] designed for ourselves, which has the potential to leave [left as we know now] a very negative outcome for future generations" - I had to laugh out loud remembering a discussion we had when our "brat pack" was doing the voice conferencing calls. I know you'll remember it, discussing our throwaway society was always a heated topic, especially the packaging. One item we all despised was the damned plastic bags! Don't worry I won't get in my soapbox about them today...

He laughed and said out loud ‘Ah yes; and I remember how shocked you were when I told you there were and estimated 11billion plastic bags used around the world every day. With over 14 billion used every year in the United States alone. What we could have done for the cause to enlighten people back then, if the $4 billion that the retailers in the US spent on giving away free plastic bags had been available to us? I remember your sadness too when I told you that in each square mile of ocean; there were an estimated 46,000 pieces of plastic causing the deaths of 100,000 marine animals each year.’
He pondered then as he did now ….why were we so thoughtless and why did we think our children would act any differently with the example we had set for them by our actions?

Reflecting on so many things from back then, the facts were all there. They were clear even in the 1980s, 90s and blatantly prominent in the early 2000s; yet the politicians, corporations, and most people in nations around the world at that time refused to listen. Like so many other issues, they didn't want to admit there was a problem. The few who would refused to take action; the even fewer that were taking action did not get the support they needed to make a difference. Still the same question screams out at me -- Why??? They knew it was important, they just didn't feel it was significant enough! If any of those politicians survived... do they think there's significance now???

I wonder if you remember this quote from a movie back then: "These past few weeks have left us all with a profound sense of humility in the face of nature's destructive power. For years we operated under the belief that we could continue consuming our planet's natural resources without consequence. We were wrong." That movie was supposed to be fiction -- now it's fact -- and happened almost as fast as it did in the movie. They were trying to send the message about climate change, but again, it was just a movie - things don't really happen like they do in the movies... or do they??? I used to cry every time I watched it, not because it was sad, but because I wanted so desperately for people to wake up and see the reality of the world we were living in and make the changes we needed - before it was too late.

It reminds me of science classes when I was in school, was anyone really paying attention? We had to learn it, we had to pass the course to get our credits and graduate so we could go to college or move on in life. Why did so few not feel it was important?

When I was a girl, my Dad worked for the FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) and one of the things he was responsible for as Chief of the FSS was monitoring weather and regular meteorology updates. When I was 16 I went to work at the FSS (Flight Service Station) with him doing some light secretarial work. He had me filing and coordinating reports, and as he knew I would, I began reading them and asking questions... what did this mean? why would this be needed? how does this affect us? I was always asking questions...

Dad taught us the value in reusing, recycling, nurturing the earth; we always had gardens for fresh vegetables and fruits, a compost pile where we recycled biodegradable waste and enriched the soil in future seasons - we were "ahead of our time" so to speak. Dad really knew how important it was to respect and care for nature, and how Mother Nature would do her best in different situations to try and bring balance where there was unrest - he instilled that knowledge in me. Mom would shake her head and smile when we would talk about storms sometimes late at night, watching the lightening through the windows. I used to ask how long the storm was going to last, he would tell me that Mother Nature will keep the storm going until it's course has helped the area She was working on to regain balance. It was funny (odd) to me when I heard that same reference mentioned in the beginning of that movie - do you remember it yet? - but when the changes occur faster than Mother Nature can balance, more drastic results occur - just as in the movie and in a matter of days the world was thrown into another ice age - what have we thrown ourselves into here?

I cherish my reflections, times looking back, it means I'm able to be here and continue to try to help Mother Nature to heal. So many before us had tried in vain to demonstrate to the world the 'storm' that would come, that would only continue to worsen until nature could find its balance once again - no matter what the consequence to changes in the face of the earth, the shifts of the polar caps, the ice shelves breaking off into the oceans, ice bridges collapsing into the seas. Even in 2009 when we were screaming to the world to wake up and make changes, the what seemed to me more sudden and vastly increasing in number reports of the collapses - it was everywhere in the news feeds, all the reports you shared with me, and you taught me about the greenhouse gas emissions levels that were already far exceeded to those which had been predicted in the years and decades before. Still "they" didn't listen, still we continued to plead.

Against all odds, and in the face of extreme adversity, humanity has survived, though exponentially reduced in population, we are still here.

Today as with every day that I awaken and still have breath in my lungs, there is still cause for hope, optimism, and simply, to smile. I am still here, still with the will and determination thru even my own solitude to continue to reach out and enlighten those who remain, to share what we have learned and to make a difference.

We are here for a reason Bob, and that reason comes with a purpose. We must continue with the spirit and dedication to life - for us - for our children - and our children's children, and on and on.

There is still hope in this heart...

He paused the hologram and fixated on the image on his screen. As she always had, Suzanne continued to smile, not only with her expression on her face, but with the sparkle of her eyes you knew it was in her heart - ever the optimist. Bob too found himself smiling as he resumed the transmission...

I know my dear friend in time our beloved earth will heal. Let's continue our work and help Mother Nature!

As always ~ ever in friendship,

Suzanne

There was a true crusader for Mother Earth…………… she would be there; still fighting and still with hope.

PROJECT EDEN - FOR A GARDEN OF HOPE

2009-05-01T17:55:00.000-07:00

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.

He had been able to leave his communication system on now for several hours as he replayed and watched the memories of Randell as the Bald Eagle of his past did once more fly over Independence Virginia. If only Randell could see what he could on his memory monitors; it would fill that part of his heart that yearned for 2022 when the last eagle had finally become extinct.

The incoming transmission caught him by surprise. He knew her face from Anthony’s hologramletters when he had found her crying see where he was now incarcerated in isolation on the other side of the world.
She had addressed it formally to him.

Jan. 12th 2030:

To: Bob Williamson
Author Activist
ZERO Greenhouse Emissions -The Day the Lights Went Out – Our Future World

From: Rosetta Effloresco (Rosa)
Paleoclimatologist
Alpha Leader Project Eden
Alaska Division

Mr. Williamson:

I am a great fan of yours. Your writings helped to change my life. During my freshman year in college, New Orleans was once again hit by a storm surge generated by hurricane Kathy, the eleventh out of fourteen hurricanes that season. It had become rather a vogue fashion for the more affluent collegians to assist in humanitarian actions as the surges were becoming a frequent occurrence, a means to padding one’s future resumes you see. One evening after my friends had retreated to a campfire to drink and pat each other on their backs, I was sitting alone when the full impact of the devastation and horror that these people were facing dawned upon me for the first time. The assistant Professor of our group came over and set down beside me. I remember it like it was yesterday, as he put his arm around me and said “It is enlightening and depressing when the scales of polite society fall away from one’s eyes.” He then handed me a well-read copy of your book. I devoured it. The next semester, to the disgust of my family I changed my business executive major to paleoclimatology, and have never looked back upon the narrow-minded viewpoints of materialistic society. So, I write to you today rather perplexed as project Eden has gone off track and I find myself somewhat lost for solutions. I have spoken with Anthony and know you two worked together in the past. So, let me explain to you what project Eden is all about.

First however, the other night Anthony invited Patricia and me to have dinner with him and discuss what role we would allow for faith-based practices (preaching) to have at the compound. This was another one of his subterfuges, as he operates by a feint within a feint, very irritating to say the least. If he just came out and said what was on his mind, as opposed to trying to control the situation. Don’t get me wrong. The people here elected him as the primary leader, for now. He set up the triumphant of power between the civilian, science and militant positions. Actually, he is a good leader. I get this feeling although that he would rather be a hermit on a hill. He is fine in small groups or leading a large discussion. Other than that he seems to melt into the background when four or more people collect. Often when I, or Jay, his son, are conducting meetings, we look around to get his input and he’s gone only to be found later wondering around in a horticulture lab tending to the plants, and of course wanting a full report on what happened. Like I said, he is a weird man and very infuriating!

So anyway sir, can I call you Bob, it is almost as if I know you? Having fixed us an outstandingly seasoned vegan meal, why he still eats meat, I have no idea! He offered to carry out the dishes to the galley. Before he left however, he mentioned that he and you were in contact and had been old associates back in the first decade of the century. He wanted to share a transmission with us from you. That manipulator had this set up, as you came on, speaking to Katey/Patricia, she turned pale. I of course know who she is. All of us with Project Eden have alternate personas and were supposed to employ them whenever we encountered outsiders. When we met the J-Squad, we were actually on a rescue mission trying to convince our doctor to come back to the compound and do her work here. She had set up a clinic at Juneau and was helping those who struggled north. With regret we found her, the marauders had visited her and well, she was a comely woman. We found ourselves set upon by marauders and were very happy that Anthony and his group came along. With all the stress of the moment and losing Doc, Katey was the only one who kept her senses about her and switched to the alternate persona when introducing herself.

So, there you were blowing her cover so to speak. She stormed out of the room with me right on her heels to calm her down. There, in the hall, outside the door stood Anthony. Katey glared at him, slapped him across the face and stormed off. “Well, that went better than I thought,” he said. “Please, we have things to discuss Rosa, come back in and let’s talk.” After a lengthy discussion I agreed to speak with Katey in the morning. I do agree. We should all put our cards on the table and Anthony needs access to everything that this project has to offer.

Project Eden: Well, how to give you a condensed version of what this is all about. Late in 2009 after the Copenhagen meeting on climate change, it became apparent to many leaders around the globe that Abrupt Climate Change would overtake humanity unless a technical solution could be found, as finger pointing and criticism were the only things the representatives had in common. (Now we know how the geoengineering project turned out, it expedited the process.) So, drastic times deserved drastic measures as they say. It was determined that five locations around the globe would be turned into bunkers that could, if needed, attempt to reseed the planet. Conspiracy theorists could’ve never concocted such a plan. Number one, the sites had to already exist, underground and at elevations that would remain dry in the advent of a 120-foot sea level rise. The original number was 300 feet, but five such sites could not be found. The HAARP complex, a military-industrial compound was picked for the Americas. The other four are in Norway, the Himalayas, Switzerland, and the Vehoyanak Range. Two of these are of course located in the badlands. The remaining three are located well above the 45-degree latitude line, as it was speculated that Abrupt Climate Change would usher in an ancient weather pattern that many paleoclimatologists believe once existed. So far this pattern is holding, the atmospheric climate patterns over the poles maintain a very liveable atmospheric condition. Of course the oceans are still churning and mixing; Cyanobacteria blooms are evidence of this. We can be grateful that we don’t have the high sulphuric rains here that the badlands suffer through.

The overall mission of Project Eden was to help any survivors indirectly, establish a new foundation upon which humanity could repopulate the globe. The means to do this was through sustainable Earth First Practices of husbandry and somehow engender Earth First Principles within the surviving population. It was much easier when discussed in principle with a power point presentation. We complained about the usage of GM organisms for this project. But we soon came to realize that if the new weather patterns established, crops that could adapt to the new lighting conditions would have become imperative. So a project was launched, Viki was already researching this field and was recruited for the team to modify vegetables that could self pollinate like Orchids, some limited success has been achieved. Katey works on a secret bee project in one of the off limit tunnels. We have managed to release some bees for the last three years and they have succeeded in pollinating the vegetables we have put out.

All of the Eden Compounds consist of five female professionals; a paleoclimatologist, botanist, biochemist and a doctor. The fifth member could come from any discipline of study as long as they excelled at fighting for the cause of environmental principles. Katey fills this position here. These individuals were trained to be the security specialists for the individual compounds. They were to act as the group conscious, the voice of Gaia in the ear of the leaders, the paleoclimatologists of Project Eden.

We were to either recruit from the survivors and train people as our replacements find mates and raise children to carry on, or move forward with artificial insemination, as the compounds have in storage semen from some of the leading minds upon the globe. In reality of course things work out differently. As I have stated, we have lost our doctor. She revolted against so many of the plans almost right from the start. I believe the lost of so much of humanity and seeing the victims of the plagues, the millions of lives that were lost here in Alaska, were too much for her to bare. I only hope the other four compounds are having better success with the plan.

So, here I am, stuck with what I consider an antisocial leader of a group of militants and a rag tag collection of individuals. They, the others as Anthony calls them, are hardly the pick of humanity. Viki has had difficultly training some of them to hand pollinate, not a difficult task. I have felt rather helpless since we lost Doc. It is my hope, Mr. Williamson; Bob, that you can act as a second voice of reason for me. Maybe together we can bring Katey back to the program as well. Since shortly after the J-Squad got here she has been at odds with me. I think somewhere in her past is a fallen soldier, someone, that has caused her pain and distrust of anything militant. Perhaps it is only a scientist’s rejection of violence. I don’t know.

What I do know is this. We could’ve never envisioned such a world as we have created, together with Anthony, Katey, Jay, myself; and hopefully you from a distance. We can still achieve some good in helping to mould a better world, a better humanity.

With my profound respects.

Rosetta (Rosa) Effloresco
Project Eden Leader:
Alaskan Division.

More to occupy his thoughts, more issues form isolated survivors to give him puzzles to solve. How could he be of help and what should be his guidance and direction be?

Had he been wise to have risked causing conflict within the HAARP colony by identifying Patricia as Katey. Only time would now tell.

THE POWER OF THE SUN.

2009-04-26T22:28:00.000-07:00

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.

The troubling delay in receiving his hologramletter from Anthony had played heavily on his mind. The energy storage needed to maintain his communications systems was draining far too quickly. If he was to maintain access to the touch screens where the virtual tour of the memories and current images relayed in the letters could be seen, this had to be rectified. His only link to those he relied upon to maintain his sanity in the isolation of his lonely existence must be the focus of his efforts, until all these power supply issues were resolved.

He worked throughout that day and well into the evening, to link into the solar storage cells the additional turbine energy, from the solar mirrors and vertical ducting he had constructed on each side of the building commencing at the 5th floor level. As the mirrors heated the air it surged upwards along the 15 stories of ducts turning the turbines he had secured inside, at each of the levels. The additional photovoltaic cells he had collected, that once lay idle were now showing signs of life as they charged. If only, he pondered; the Earth would spring back to its vibrant and healthy diversity in such a way, with the devastated ecosystems destroyed by mans folly over the last 21 years, fighting back and renewing their balance. The balance that had lasted for millions of years before the invasive species of man had determined its demise with complacency.

His challenging construction now fully commissioned and supplying 10 times the energy storage of the roof top solar panels alone, he wondered if like the unexpected letter from old Cesar in New Orleans, whether other hologramletters might now be captured.

He switched on the monitors and loaded the last communication from Suzanne. She would need his help with the challenges she faced and his reassurance that she was not alone in her hopes and visions for those that might survive and come after us..............

Suzanne you lighten my heart and bring me much needed joy with your hologramletters. I hope that my delay in replying didn’t cause you any anxiety. I now have the additional power supply and storage I have been working on to maintain my regular contact with you and others around the world.

I hope the exhaust fumes that escaped from the ruptured ducting have not contaminated your food supply or the plants you have nurtured. It will be much safer for you, when you have the solar panels rigged up. As you and I lobbied back in the second decade of this century, had we given up our addiction to energy generation mostly by coal and oil, we would not be where we now are; and millions more may still be with us. I still don’t get the logic they employed. How did they manage to convince the world that by burning a gallon of gas and in doing so emitting 9 lbs of CO2 as pollution was ok for us?

In your last hologramletter you skipped over the outcomes of your change of lifestyle and its impact in mitigating your environmental footprint. Never forget the good you did for others in rejecting the ‘business and living as usual model’ accepted, so complacently by the majority. Your ‘mid-course correction’ your epiphany as an aware citizen of our shared planet gave direction and vision to so many over the last two decades. You are a true and caring warrior for Earth. You walked lighter on this earth by your decisions to reject the illogical sleepwalk of the majority. You gave much more than you took from Mother Earth. You never gave up. You had the vision and the passion for your fellow man, woman and child that most had abandoned. In your words and in your eyes, I see this has never wavered; even for a second and even with the many trials you now endure daily.

I was pleased to hear you still have the book. In your continuing resolve remember the words I wrote at the end, and let it give you pride in the way you have gently walked on the earth over the last 21 years.

Do you remember it? I wrote;

‘With foresight, I thank and acknowledge you in life’s future. With you there can be success and a happy ending. You are the single most important person in the script of history yet to be written. The credit will be yours. Theodore Roosevelt wrote:

It is not the critic who counts;
nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled;
or where the doer of deeds could have done better.

The credit belongs to those who are actually in the arena;
whose faces are marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strive valiantly;
who err and fall short again and again;
who know the great enthusiasms;
the great devotions;
and spend themselves in a worthy cause;
who at the best know in the end the triumph of high achievement;
and who at worst, if they fail,
at least fail while daring greatly;
so that their place shall never be with those cold and timid souls
who know neither victory nor defeat.’

Until next time….Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you.

Having completed his message to Suzanne he activated the transmission switch. The message reaching out around the world to Suzanne went on its way. The incoming hologramletter materialised on the horizontal screen.

He looked upon the face of one of his closest and dearest friends of many years. The man he called his ‘brother-in-arms’ for the good of Earth. Randell still wearing the familiar old baseball cap looked back as he had done so many times. Age had not wearied his passion as it had that cap and his tired frame. But he was still the man of hope he had always been. A man on a mission to do all that he could, for the good of Earth.

Bob

This morning I woke to the scream of a Bald Eagle!

I ran out to see if one had indeed survived and was flying in the sky. The sound it turned out; was only in my mind, there was nothing to see in the sad grey sky.

I returned inside once more wishing that there had been an eagle in the sky. I would love to once more see an eagle soar over Independence Virginia, but I know as you once said; their day for the death of birth, has long since gone.

Bob I recall meeting you on twitter back in 2008 and being inspired by you to do more to save my Earth from the pollution of greenhouse gases. I wish now more of the once 3 million listeners to my radio show back then would’ve paid more attention to you and me; as we gave them great advice back then.

I was a young 38 then now in 2030 I’m a 60 year old radio host who has only around 1,400 listeners still out there. A real shame that only these few are living now in the single pocket of population in Virginia.

The once lush green mountains are gone now Bob, only decaying remains of trees stand. The river I fished in as a young man now only has a few water snakes in it, the trout and muskie I used to love are gone. The only green growth is in my greenhouse where I grow food to feed me and my pets.

He could see the beautiful visions of the mountains of the past in all nature’s glory and the reality of now, as Randell relayed his memories. He now looked as through Randell’s eyes at the scenes of the tortured countryside that was now Independence Virginia in 2030.

Bob you and I both told the Governments of the world that they had better cut out all greenhouse gases but they never listened until it was ten years to late to do anything. I wish to God more leaders would have paid attention to us and not the big oil an gas lobby. Big oil's money has killed Earth. Their greed and lust for the almighty dollar drove a knife blade deep into the heart of Earth.

The days are numbered for me now my friend as are my vivid memories of the fact that nobody seemed to listen to what you and I were trying to teach them. I feel so sad that my voice was not heard, that my years of pushing for solar power, and electric cars were all in vain, as money from big oil bought off the governments of Earth.

I will end with this raised voice Bob –

“Big oil screwed us out of our planet, big oil I hope you’re happy for the hell you put this planet in!”

Your friend
Randell Byrd
Independence
VA USA

That’s my buddy he thought as he heard his rebel yell – you tell them my friend; and do it loud.

A FOUNDATION CORNERSTONE LAID IN ATLANTA.

2009-04-23T16:52:00.000-07:00

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.

January 12th 2030

His reflections had been deep, but his resolve in those quite early hours before dawn had been, as always, passionate and resolute to raise the voice of change. To reach out to those still clinging to hope in their isolated locations of humanity and inspire their hearts that one day they may achieve a balance with Earth and a future for others. They had asked how his enduring passion and the fire that burned within him to awaken man back in the first decade of the 21st century had been ignited. He would today answer their question.

He moved across the room to the transmission panel and turned it on………

You have asked me how the Foundation was born to question the illogical sleepwalk of our world in the first decade of this century. It was a long journey that I still remember well.

Now in 2030 I can look back clearly to 2007, and on the ten years before to when we had started our business in 1997, during which time we had often struggled with why it was taking so long for the logic of what we were doing and saying; and the importance of our message to finally get through. I’m sure back then that the Union of Concerned Scientists also looked back on the fifteen years since 1992 when they told us we had “one to a few decades” to reverse our course with similar frustration.

It was the same for us as with those scientists; the importance of their words was falling on deaf ears. As Sir Richard Burton had put it when narrating War of the Worlds, “It seemed amazing to me, that with all that was going on around them, people just went about their daily lives as if nothing was happening.”

Many times being the first to develop systems, techniques, and processes to recover and recycle post-consumer polypropylene from landfill loss had seemed all too hard. The humble plastic garden plant pot, with 100 million being dumped in our state’s landfill each year, when we started was not of any real significance to those in government that could have made a difference in those early years. As with the scientists, they were not listening. “Plastic doesn’t, as with other wastes, break down in landfill or leach into ground water,” they told me. “There was no environmental damage from dumping plastic,” they asserted. So we struggled on, trying to make them understand it wasn’t just a bit of plastic, it was all that was consumed in the process, extracting the oil, manufacturing the virgin resin from fossil resources, consuming water and vast amounts of coal-fired energy, so that the non-renewable resources could be used just once for plastic pots and ice cream containers before being dumped forever in a landfill. “Dump it and all consumed resources are lost.” They were not thinking through the consequences of our business as usual actions. Recovering and then reprocessing plastic for use, in order to replace virgin resources making exactly the same products, saved even more virgin resources, and mitigated the need to manufacture more virgin product when recovered and recycled materials could be used instead. This was resource recovery. We told them that as a country, we didn’t need to find new water resources, new oil reserves, produce more coal-fired energy, if we simply stopped throwing what we had consumed into the bin. It wasn’t rocket science. To us, it was a no-brainer. How could they sustain their message that dumping plastic had no adverse environmental impact?

So we struggled on. I can still look back with a sense of pride that my family, my wife, daughters, and others that saw the vision we had, were stubborn enough for long enough to finally make a difference. We committed many hundreds of thousands of dollars over those early years of research and development. We had also committed much blood, sweat, and tears to come to where we were in 2007. “I remember our first meeting in 2000, when you outlined what you thought was possible and thought it was a stretch even for an optimist,” said Peter Bury, director of Industry Development for the Plastic and Chemical Industry Association (PACIA). In 2005 we were awarded the PACIA National Environment Award and in 2006 were finalists for the PACIA Sustainability Award for Plastics.

Like those concerned scientists in those early years, we kept knocking on closed doors and speaking into deaf ears.

In 2002-03 we would initiate and embark on a six-month demonstration project. This would accurately qualify our reprocessing energy consumption for converting the recovered materials into quality replacement feedstock and compare our process to the energy used to produce the virgin resin. The demonstrated findings showed that each tonne of production we saved going to landfill, being reused to replace the need for virgin resin in product manufacture, was equal to saving the energy used by the average home for over five years. In the recycling process we had developed, we were saving from each tonne, over 10 tonnes of embodied water, 1,500 litres of oil and over 97,600 megajoules of embodied energy.

The landmark study outcome led to a Special Commendation Award for Energy Efficiency in the state’s environment awards in 2004. At the same awards evening, our family company also received the honour of recognition as winner of the Waste Minimisation Award, as the winner of the Behavioural Change Award, and selected as the Overall Environment Award Winners for 2004. We were starting to have our voice heard.

We would go on in 2005 to be recognized as Finalists for the Prime Minister’s Award for Environmentalist of the Year, be invited by the governor to a reception for His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, be nominated by the state government and selected in the nation’s premier science awards as one of three national finalists in the Australian Museum Eureka Prize for Leadership in Business Innovation, and in 2006 we would take our first holiday in thirty-one years of marriage to travel to Atlanta, Georgia, where we would receive from the U.S. Society of Plastics Engineers the Global Environment Award for Plastic Recycling for 2006. Our voice was being heard just like the voices of the Union of Concerned Scientists were finally starting to be heard. Our overnight success had taken a decade, while theirs had taken a decade and a half.

In Atlanta on February 28th, 2006, I was privileged to spend several hours with Ray C. Anderson, a visionary and self-confessed previous plunderer of our planet’s finite resources. Ray was the founder and chairman of Interface Inc., the world’s largest manufacturer of industrial floor coverings. Ray, like me, had seen that it was his responsibility to be part of the solution to the problems we face. Over those hours together while we sat and talked, we inspired each other with hope and a vision for a safer world. To an extent it was he that became partly responsible for my book, as it was he that first suggested it. That morning in his book Mid-Course Correction the Interface Model, Ray signed “To Bob Williamson comrade-in-arms for the good of earth with respect.” Along with his words at that meeting, his book has been a constant companion and a source of some hope to me. As he had done a change in direction, “a mid-course correction” could be achieved. I committed that morning to adding my voice to his at every opportunity, to change the ways we look at our past practices and foster how a change for a more sustainable outcome might come about. For the future of his children, mine and yours.

We visited another great man in Atlanta that day, and although we were too late to talk with him, his words and wisdom echoed loudly to us from the past. Martin Luther King Jr. in 1967 speaking in Los Angeles on the matter of the war in Vietnam had this to say: “We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked and dejected with a lost opportunity. The ‘tide in the affairs of men’ does not remain at flood: it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is deaf to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residue of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words: ‘Too late.’”

Later that year I would establish the Greenhouse Neutral Foundation with the vision to “Broaden the understanding of choices made that impact or increase depletion of finite resources resulting in environmental and ecosystem damage.”

The Foundation stone was laid in Atlanta that sunny February morning.

All of you that receive this hologramletter must know and believe your cornerstone has been laid along side this foundation for change; and we can still build upon that.

Until then….Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you all.

May the Red Road Live Again.

2009-04-21T16:22:00.000-07:00

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.

There hadn’t been a transmission from Anthony at the HAARP complex for days. Concern that something had happened, haunted him. Had he even received the hologramletter telling him about Katey and would she listen to him and become Anthony’s ally? Could there have been a transmission break? It was now January 11th and he had transmitted to Anthony on the 8th, maybe today he would receive some word.

Switching on the horizontal hologram monitor his answer would come with relief.

January. 8th 2030.

Greetings Bob.

May the Red Road Live Again.

Snap! With a flash of blinding white light before my eyes I heard that hideous sound. A wave of chills swept over my body and nausea gripped my innards. I’d been straining my ears to overhear the conversation between Patricia and Rosa, when my tile spade broke. Heart wrenching actually, as that spade had traveled with me north to the HAARP compound. It is strange Bob; grief overcame me as I gazed at the broken tool. It was as if my best friend, a friend made in kindergarten and beside one their entire life had passed away. Perhaps having shut out and trained myself to develop a callous outlook upon the world, I have transferred my compassion to this and other items that have made this perilous journey with me.

Before the events of 2020, Big Thunder and the resulting chaos that gripped humanity, I had lived near the confluence of the Iowa and Mississippi Rivers in a big ole farmhouse. I never told you about the house, although I had shut off room’s, changed light bulbs and generated a grey-water collection system; it wasn’t exactly the model of eco lifestyles. This was however the region of the country that spawned Aldo Leopold, Mark Twain, Edgar Lee Masters and Chief Blackhawk. The land was a breathtaking beauty of bounty to behold as the seasons transformed the landscape. Here, way back in 2000, I bought that tile spade. Still with me is an old trowel I dug up that first year, when creating a hothouse. I would use this to clean off the dirt that collected on the spade as I prepared the land for planting. It also came in handy for tending small patches of soil, like herb gardens and guerrilla patches of vegetables we planted over the years. Also, I still have with me my collection of wet stones and files. I have to admire the J-Squad. They never once questioned my reasoning for insisting that every man must carry tools with them. We of course didn’t all carry tile spades, but you get the idea, I think. Whenever we moved, they had to pull double and triple duties. Sometimes they would go for three or even four days before getting any rest, as we had to advance stealthfully over the land, find a camp, set up defenses and secure well-camouflaged storage capabilities. Then the bigger guys would go back, portage our equipment to the next site, all the while still carrying their firearms. Seriously, I take my hat off to these men for all they have done and continue to do.

At that peaceful homestead, I had managed, by 2005, to turn enough dirt year in and year out to have a nice garden. It was capable of sustaining my family while giving some away to help out the neighbors as well. In a good year I could even sell off some of the extra produce. By 2009, that spade and I had created a strawberry patch, asparagus bed, black raspberry, red raspberry and blue berry plots, this along with the peach orchard, pears, and small apple orchard I tended had within me generated a hearty respect for husbandry. It was the ethical thing to do, as Al Gore was fond of saying, to reduce my carbon footprint. So, I suppose that tile spade had become my partner in the battle against climate change. Therefore, you can understand the waves of emotions that swept over me when it snapped today.

Jay, Derrick and I agreed to help Patricia and the girls with one of their ongoing projects shortly after we arrived here. Oh! For those first few months all over again, when we were a very small group of people willing to work together, Viki and Patricia had come up with the idea of sowing the outlying valleys with foodstuffs for survivors, and had several vegetable gardens towards Juneau planted. (This is all possible due to the dedicated work of Robin. She is about as quiet as a bird usually. A biochemist who is also expert at gene manipulation. She worked at the compound doing her post grad years, an interesting story here Bob. For now let’s just say that we have many different varieties of GM organisms we can try and raise under the lighting conditions available. Really, I need to tell you all about the little conversation I had with Robin, enlightening.) So anyway, back to what I was saying, between speaking with the women and scouting reports from the team we soon learned an interesting fact. The marauders almost always where found toward the western expansions of the compound, this is toward the more settled areas of what was, and/or is, Alaska. Most of the extra members here now, came from wandering groups we found out beyond the eastern boundaries. I think the more passive members of society have either found, or simply been pushed out there, for safety reasons. So after we analyzed the situation it was decided that the western expanses would be abandoned and as a collective we would focus on planting where it could best benefit people we thought were worthy. Of course, who is to say who is worthy and what will happen in the future, we can only plan for the day. Adapting the concept of not planting close to home, which Viki had come up with, we maintain a two-day minium hike from the nearest entrance to the underground labyrinth. Although these access points are well hidden, why invite danger, right! So, after a week of having things hiked into the valley we were ready to plant a small orchard of fruit trees. I was working up the dirt for the last tree when Patricia and Rosa walked by. They were only about ten feet away when they dropped their voices speaking in a hushed tone. I was straining to hear and not paying attention when, snap! Not to worry although Bob, the compound has implements of manual labor in storage as well. If they have an angle grinder, I might sharpen one up the easy way, sure beats taking three days to do it by hand.

I was wandering around the compound the other day. Walking down the corridors of the agri-centre, when I heard music softly playing in the distance: in the furthest horticulture lab, the one we use for starting apple and pear trees, I heard a stringed instrument playing. Now I am not tone deaf by any means, however, being a Midwestern of somewhat modest means I never developed a taste for classical music. I am quite sure that was what I was hearing. So following the music, I ambled down the rows of young trees. There, in the back of the room facing the wall was Patricia playing a cello. Clearing my throat I scared her as she jumped up screaming, then proceeded to read me the riot act on respecting a person’s privacy. As she was walking away, I mentioned that I thought she played like an angel. She stopped dead in her tracks, turned around, her anger subsiding she thanked me, asked if I would like to hear some more. We sat there for about an hour, her playing and me sitting with my back against the wall, eyes closed, swaying to the music.

I think – the frost is starting to come off this one. We had an interesting conversation after that. I will try and pass on to you the jest of it. I did a lot of bobbing my head up and down as it was well beyond my limited capacity for understanding. It deals with changes in weather patterns. She was describing a concept that many paleoclimatologists believe was once an existing pattern. How it breaks down is this. . . hang on Bob. . . oh crap!

Bob, I just came back from the hall. One of the outsiders, hah, we are all outsiders now. . . Anyway, the one I call Rev. Ted Haggard. He is at it again. Patricia, Rosa and Jay all have him cornered. Odd really, as Jay’s is actually on this guys side. I thought for sure he was going to mutiny on me over this one. The Science Team and I have basically outlawed preaching in the compound. This guy can really belt it out although. He must have been a Baptist preacher; he scares the hell out of everybody that will listen to him, lol. So, perhaps I will come back after speaking with him again. I think, Rosa has agreed that he can preach faith, if I can convince this guy to accept the concept of Mother worship and pushing earth first practices.

There is an old saying, ‘back to the garden.’ The Sci-Team and I have decided if faith is to be allowed here in the compound, we will go beyond the garden, back to hunter gathers and the native peoples of the globe. We will at least try and engender a respect for the planet in the survivors once again.

Stay safe....Anthony

As Anthony signed off it occurred to him that life in the HAARP compound was far from easy – so many issues of personalities and conflict that he didn’t have to deal with in his isolation. He could only hope that his cool logic when he replied might help Anthony and the others with an objective perspective. He must write to Rosa in his next hologramletter he thought. She needs some far off comfort on which to rest in her times of sorrow. He stored the hologramletter in the library and returned to his task of commissioning the additional power capacity from the solar mirrors and hot air turbines along the side of the building. The project should be completed within a day or so if he kept at it.

Not much a' do 'bout nothin' 'cept fishin' in old Orleans.

2009-04-18T22:04:00.000-07:00

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.

As he looked at the monitor, an unfamiliar face flickered, wavered and then came through. The man had seen better days, he thought, as the face in the hologramletter smiled at him with a toothless grin.

January 10, 2030

Bubba!

It ain’t cooled much yet at the beginnin’ of winter in New Orleans – not that it ever cools much these days – so you should call in sick as soon’s you can and head down here for the fishin’! Now that the gov’ment gave up pumpin’ the water from the city after all the hurricanes and floods, this place is turnin’ into a true “Sportsman’s Paradise.” (Remember the old Louisiana license plates – ROFL!!!!)

I meet this dude named Boudreaux Martinez – he say’s he’s from Zwolle – and he keeps talkin’ up the fishin’ down in the old Crescent City. At first I ain’t inter’sted, but he apparently talks me into it ’cause one Monday mornin’ after an all-weekend drunk I wake up in the cab of his pickup truck and he’s haulin’ ass with his bass boat down I-10 to New Orleans. My killer hangover is makin’ it a rough ride for awhile, but we stop in Gonzales for a couple post-sunrise Dixies and I feel much better.

A little after eight we pull into the city, pickin’ our way ’round the new ponds that block the highway here and there. We have a hell of a time gettin’ to the French Quarter where Boudreaux wants to put in. He’s lookin’ for beignets and chicory coffee at Café du Monde. I thought we was goin’ to drive or walk to it. Instead, Boudreaux wants to drive his boat to the dock the café built since the city flooded.

I say, “Damn, Boudreaux, where you gonna find a boat ramp in the Quarter?” Boudreaux says, “No problem. Wait ’n’ see.

”Sure ’nough, findin’ a boat ramp is easy. Every street is a boat ramp!!!! It can be hell findin’ parkin’, though – you ever try parallel parkin’ with a boat trailer?

Anyway, we find a nice spot on St. Roch Street, put his boat in, and tie off on a telephone pole. Once we load up with the essentials – Vienna sausages, beef jerky, beer, and fishin’ gear – and make a stop at the Café du Monde we head off to what used to be the Lower Ninth Ward.

Man, you can’t imagine how good the fishin’ is here! You don’t need no fish-finder – just drop a lure near the old houses or sunken cars, and you got it made, man!

You gotta be careful, though. The water’s so murky you can’t see all the obstacles. We foul the prop on an old chicken-wire fence that’s a few inches below the surface. Shear the damn cotter pen and almost lose the prop. The current pushes us into some rusty ole school bus before we get Boudreax’s Merc out of the water and the pin replaced.

We was so focused on the outboard that we don’t notice we’d punched through the side of the bus. I have to push off with each foot on one of the seats. I’m a bit drunk again – hell, it’s 10:30 in the mornin’ man! – and not payin’ ’nough attention to what I am doin’. Boudreaux’s boat breaks free and I fall into the open door of a sunken Porta John®. Boudreaux laughs so much he has a coughin’ fit and damn near chokes. When he gets some breath, he wheezes, “It don’ matta, You and de watta smell ’bout de same now.” He starts cussin’ me a blue streak, though, when I almost flip the boat tryin’ to get back in.

We go back to fishin’ and hook six or seven big striped bass by the time noon rolls ’round. Of course some of them are big because of these growths on their bodies, but since we ain’t plannin’ on eatin’ sushi, we figure a good cookin’ll take care of the stuff in ’em that causes the growths to begin with.

By the end of the day, though, Boudreaux and I am pretty damn drunk – again. He gets lost lookin’ for his truck – keeps cruisin’ up and down St. Claude Street instead of turnin’ on St. Roch. I ain’t much help, though, as I am busy playin’ with the bass floatin’ belly up in the fish well. (I set the water on fire when I throw a cigarette butt in there!) As the sun goes down, though, Boudreaux remembers the car alarm thing on his key chain and we follow the sound to where we put in.

I’m thinkin’ ’bout headin’ back next weekend. Wanna come?

Cesar

Curious old timer, he thought. When was it they gave up on New Orleans and the environmental refugees left the city forever? Was it in 2022 after hurricane Wendy -- the 23rd hurricane of the season? It had to come. The storm intensities and surges couldn’t be contained. Big cities along the Gulf Coast -- Galveston, Biloxi, Mobile, Pensacola -- were now almost ghost towns, waterlogged landscapes changed forever, just as the streets below his building were awash with foul-smelling slime and toxic chemicals.

You have help at hand!

2009-04-15T21:43:00.000-07:00

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.

January 8th 2030

You have help at hand!

He pondered how he could encourage the brilliant Katey to take Anthony into her confidence.

He knew as an ally she would prove one of his strongest supporters. If he could jog her memory from 21 years ago when he wrote of her research into methane releases in the Arctic regions, that in 2008 were equal to all the man made emissions from the entire United States of America a staggering 20% of total greenhouse gases back in those days, she would realise she now had regained the support and respect she so rightfully deserved.

To Anthony - You have help at hand!

Anthony my friend, I have exciting news for you. I don’t know how to put this subtly. You have brilliance and a legendary environmental warrior in your midst. The person you know it be Patricia is no other than Katey Walter.

You’ll remember her from my book. She was the person who warned the world back in 2007 of the thawing permafrost in Siberia and Alaska. Do you remember?

I suspect she is hiding under the name Patricia now as she may fear the same ostracising from you or others as she received in 2010. The conservative science community viewed her as too outspoken about the potential of accelerated methane releases as the Arctic warmed, at 3-4 times the global average in the first decade of the century.

You must tell her you know me.

I have put the following hologramletter segment together for you to play to her.
Once you have her confidence you should be able to gain much of the access to the HAARP complex you are looking for. If anyone knows its secrets she will.

Let me know if my plea to her helps.

Until later my friend ……………. Hello Patricia do you recognise my face? I have aged somewhat.

You still have the passionate eyes I remember from back in 2008 when we last hooked up via video conferencing. That technology now seems as ancient in the history of man as the safety we enjoyed at the time.

Do you remember telling me of your fears back then if the world failed to heed your research? You warned them with such passion ‘This newly recognized source of methane is so far not included in climate models.’ Your estimates suggested the area had 500 gigatons (1,100 trillion pounds) of carbon, largely in the form of ancient dead plant material. You warned ‘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.’

Do you remember me now? My eyes, my passion and my concern for man have not wavered either.

You have a great ally with you there in your compound. Anthony.

Anthony and I are; like you and I were once. We; like you were then, not fearful of raising the voice of concern loudly to change the future to one that was safe for those that would come after us. What was it you told me the native American Indians said? "We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children."

We must now ask ourselves as custodians of that moral obligation why we failed in that duty of trust.

Katey – yes Katey you must now take up that challenge once more. You must now rekindle all the passion and hope you once had. Work with Anthony as you did for the world back then and you and he can achieve much.

Until next time ….Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you all.

He switched off the monitors and returned to his thoughts. ‘We borrow it from our children’

Suzanne's epiphany and mid-course correction

2009-04-04T22:40:00.000-07:00

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.

Time had past so quickly. The letter to Anthony and the help he may be to get Patricia (Katey) to work with him openly for the common good was uppermost in his mind that humid morning. If he were to plea to her personally he knew had to phrase it carefully or risk a defensive rejection. It would need to wait for further and careful thought.

He flicked the switch of the main monitor. The incoming transmission light flickered and it would be to receive as he would see Suzanne’s epiphany and reason for her personal mid-course correction.

Greetings my friend,

After my last transmission I've sat debating if I should fire up this old generator again. I’ve used it quite sparingly, but the exhaust fumes even though I’ve vented them as well as possible still escape into my living quarters. Hesitantly, I started it up to look for new messages and scour for news of anyone at all. I was only able to keep it running long enough to download your latest response and your questions, so many questions that as I sit here now are tugging at my heartstrings. As I was downloading the transmission, the exhaust line ruptured and before I was aware of it, there were fumes coming in through the ventilation ducts. I had to run and shut it down before it was too late for me, and I prayed thinking first of my few precious plants, that I’d caught it soon enough.

The last few days I have been totally drained of energy. I'm sure that it's from the generator's exhaust fumes, but also fearing it may be possible effects from the batteries I managed to retrieve so far. I had been able to bring back a half dozen of the batteries that I found, and after your advice, I did a close inspection on them. I found some with the feathering you referred to. I haven't any burns or cuts from their transport, though some of the leakage may have gotten through my gloves. Thank goodness I keep protective gear with me at all times and trust nothing to be safe until closely scrutinized. Though I haven't encountered anyone in the months since I have come here, I have taken care and many precautions to contain the damaged batteries to an isolated area. I feel they are safely contained and more than adequately marked with warnings if someone comes across the storage room that’s now holding them.

I will soon be on my way back to the found treasure room to explore its contents further. I had little time after sharing my find with you to see all that was available. I'm hoping for instructions, tools and any other items that will be needed to get the solar panels installed as soon as possible. I'm feeling a bit stronger again and the clearing skies are once more giving me fresh hope. I find myself all too restless and looking forward to indulging in daytime explorations again.

Getting to your questions; for me it was back in the mid to late 1990s when I was burning out from "corporate" America. There were so many different experiences that started my reach for more information and knowledge, and changing my way of life. I was in Michigan then, working in Detroit at a very well paying job, when it dawned on me that I wasn't the simple girl enjoying life's simple pleasures anymore. I found myself becoming somewhat materialistic. I was far from being as consumed by it all as many were then, but I had a nice car, lived in an upper middleclass suburban area, shopped at the posh pricier specialty markets, and indulged in many modern conveniences.

One occasion in particular, I was out for a weekend sailing with a friend. We were lavishing in the serenity of the sunshine and water with nothing but the wind taking us on our journey from Lake Eerie up through the Detroit River and into Lake St. Clair, a sailor's paradise, on inland lakes. As we entered into the southern part of the Detroit River we had no choice but to traverse the commercial shipping channel and became virtually overrun by freighters. (I came to learn only later of the pollution they caused with each tonne of shipping fuel pumping out 850 kilograms (.85t) of carbon and that when it was burnt mixed with oxygen produced 3.1 tonnes of CO2!)

Anyway I was jarred out of my serenity and thrust into the "all hands on deck" to guide and navigate our way through the shipping lanes. It was an experience I don't think I'll ever forget. Terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time, it made me start to wonder if there was anywhere left in the world that was not affected by these monstrous beasts transporting the oil, coal and other ores our modern world needed to continue with its business and living as usual. The sounds and fumes from the passing ships began to fill me at first with sorrow, then quickly with anger, that such atrocities invaded the peace and energy I had been feeling being one with the water and the earth.

As the weeks and months progressed from that weekend, I would notice more of my surroundings ~ not in the progression of society, but in the ravages of the resources of the earth. I soon found I could no longer work in the city that I had loved for so many years, simply because I didn't want to be even one more contributing to the smog and dismal chaos. I found a different firm in the suburbs close to where I lived, but that satiated me only for a short time and I was soon on my way to leaving the corporate rat race.

I left Michigan in 1999 and moved to California, thinking, 'I'll be by the ocean, it will be ideal, back in closer touch with a simpler life.' I couldn't have been more wrong. It took me another five years after that before I could move again, which is how I landed in Arizona, where I was living in the "green" desert and found Greenhouse Neutral... and you. By this time I was living a much more modest life, closer to how I was raised, cherishing simple things and giving of myself all I could to live and share with others a conscientious lifestyle. I quit the design firm I was then working for, and started working full time from home. So I was no longer a slave or contributor to the commuter emissions poisoning the atmosphere. I became "one less" as the saying goes. One less vehicle on the road, daily polluting the air, one less person spending exorbitant sums of money for high priced suits to be dry cleaned with chemicals and toxins... one less and feeling damn good about it - but still wanting to do so much more.

And yes, Bob, I still have my copy of "ZERO Greenhouse Emissions - The Day the Lights Went Out - Our Future World" - a bit tattered and worn, though still coveted as much this day as the day I when it first arrived in the mail; that was shortly after our first conversations on Twitter and when I stood up to let my voice be heard and joined you in your efforts to awaken the world. It was when I read your book for the first time, that the memories of that Detroit River sail flooded back and I knew I had to do what I could to help in the cause. I can't even begin to tell you how angry I became when I learned that there are so many variables in fuel consumption based on size of vessel, cargo, carrying capacity, age of vessel, and they were not regulated because no one wanted to claim them or the emissions they responsible for!

One excerpt in particular fuelled the fire even more, "...one bulk carrier report placed its consumption of heavy fuel oil at 26.1 tonnes per day and diesel oil at 24.2 tonnes per day at a cruising speed of 14 knots (26 kilometers per hour). So on the proverbial slow boat to China, over 50 tonnes of fossil fuel per day will be burnt, contributing about 150 tonnes of CO2 per day in atmospheric emissions in the process. In Heat George Monbiot presented another excellent comparison. Monbiot cites George Marshall of the Climate Outreach Information Network who had done some “rough initial” calculations for the Queen Elizabeth II. Cruising at between 25 to 28 knots (45 to 50 kilometers per hour) while delivering the 1,790 passengers and 920 crew between Southampton and New York, the ship burns through 433 tonnes of fuel per day. On the six-day cruise they use 2,598 tonnes of fuel—each way. That’s over 8,050 tonnes of luxury greenhouse emissions. Each return passenger carries the weight of responsibility off the ship of over 9 tonnes of environmental impact." When I read this, I had to actually stop for a period because I was so overwhelmed with sadness I wept remembering not only the experience I had sailing, but even more so thinking of the horrors of the shipping traffic I used to see when I was in California at Long Beach/Los Angeles. I had no idea how bad it was then but I knew it was out of control; your book brought me to new light and awareness.

You taught me so much in those years. I hope that I with all I learned back then, that I may have touched at least a few as deeply as you did me with your insight and knowledge. I'm very proud and honored to have your friendship, as much if not more now, as I was then... and happier still to know that you are surviving our new world and continue fighting the good fight ~ I pray we will both be here to continue on for at least a few more years to come...

My power is again running low, I'll close this hologramletter to you with thoughts of much hope and bright smiles that even through the toughest of times, I continue to have ~ because I am here, I have survived, and I will continue to fight the good fight; and when it's time for me to leave this earth, I will be able to do so still smiling because I tried, I made a difference, I didn't become despondent in even the darkest hours.

Ever in friendship,
Suzanne

As he saw the flickers of her fading smile he mussed how different life would be now in 2030 if more had made that mid-course correction. If they had realised we needed not to reinvent the wheel, we had needed a reinvention of self.

Anthony's hologramletter ---- 'Is it Katey?'

2009-03-31T01:02:00.000-07:00

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.

He had been eagerly waiting for the batteries to recharge. It was now time to hear from Anthony. The suspense had been unbearable. He powered up the monitors and downloaded the message from the hologramletters library files.

Bob:
January 7th 2030:

I record this hologramletter very early in the A.M. hours. Sleep, deep restful sleep, is a forgotten memory. Even now in the extreme safety of this underground labyrinth I can’t find peace. We have been here around 15 months. There is ample living quarters, yet, I maintain the J-squad sleep in a barracks situation. They believe this is for reactionary time in the off chance marauders get inside. The truth Bob, three of the men still suffer from PTSD, waking in the night screaming and ready to kill. I keep them together for the safety of the group at large. They served in Iraq, Afghanistan and conducted covert missions into Pakistan. After the massacre and kidnapping of our wives and children, the tremors – as I call it – broke out in their sleep again.

I had mentioned that this compound had to be built for alternative reasons. The main sight covers about 50 acres, I guess, with buildings and laboratories. However, concealed accesses give way to miles of underground tunnels. It comes complete with living quarters, rec-centres, laboratories and various other facilities. In my mind this was a survivor, doomsday complex. The main power supply is from geothermal energy. It is my understanding that solar arrays are in the nearby Mountain range for back-up power. The transmission system is a Smart Grid, installed at least a decade before America began their belated efforts in the lower forty-eight. (Really pisses me off knowing they had the technology when they claimed it wasn’t fully feasible. Just another one of corporatocracies lies’.)

There exist underground horticultural centres here capable of feeding at least two-thousand. Yet, we are told the compound only has living space for 750! I enjoy working with Viki, the botanist, pollinating the plants. While it is rather tedious, my green thumb still exists. I asked her if they had any Kush seeds. She said that Patricia fails to release them. That is another issue I have to deal with. The multitude of uses we could apply that to, from constructing our own rope and clothes, to medicine, writing paper, and flour out of the seeds, I believe. I would love to use it for the three boys with PTSD. In an attempt to help them sleep through the night. Boys, they are in their late thirties to mid-forties and seen more horrors than any person should, men of honour. They get a chuckle out of me calling them boys, in return they refer to me as The Relic or Old Man.

Rising early yesterday, I prepared breakfast for the early crew, about twenty of us. Yes, I still love to cook. I took Rosa her breakfast, as she wasn’t around per her usual. I found her crying her eyes out and very upset, blathering on really. Some aspects of womanhood will never change, thank Gaia for that.

She showed me satellite images of the area where your transmission comes from. (Curious Bob, you ever had an affair with a cute little redheaded American intern? LOL! This woman holds you in high regard.) ........... Bob could see her tears as Anthony relayed his message.

Yes, the science squad has access to all remaining U.S. civilian and military satellites. She was pointing at the screen and carrying on about the desolation of your predicament and the scarcity of power, food, and water supplies in the area. When I pressed her on how she could ascertain all that information, she dried up the tears, quickly, and changed the subject.

Patricia, the brightest of the scientists, was a child prodigy I am told. She has, they claim, five PhDs. She is the type of person whose idea of idle chitchat is quantum theory. Personally, I suspect she was secret service at the compound. I asked Derrick, the J-squad’s communication expert to set up monitoring posts on some of the off limit tunnels marked radioactive and extreme bio-hazards. We have caught her coming and going through these tunnels.

Bob reached out to pause the transmission and look more closely at the face of Patricia. Something rang a distant bell in his memory. Who was she?
He looked closely at the face and saw a flickering memory pass over her. No surely not! Was it Katey? Was it Katey Walter from all those years ago? He spoke about her research in his book and knew her quite well. He searched through the historic files and came across the reference in 2009 http://www.alaska.edu/uaf/cem/ine/walter/

It was Katey! Why had she changed her name?
Bob’s good friend and author Fred Pearce had brought her work to prominence back in 2009 with his story ‘Arctic meltdown is a threat to humanity’ in the New Scientist magazine http://tinyurl.com/cdeljf

Was it the controversy the story had made? She did drop out of sight after that. She was right of course, but back then people just hadn’t wanted to hear the facts. They didn’t want the truth, they wanted comfort. ‘Business and living as usual’
He must let Anthony know; he thought, he was sure that Katey was still the person she was back then. She must be convinced to work with him; to open up to him, she was one of the brightest of the bright. She had told the truth then but had been ostracised by the broader conservative scientific community for speaking out. Now if only she could be convinced to work with Anthony they could make significant progress. Bob had to gain her trust, he had to make contact with her once more.

He recommenced the hologram:-

Yes, the science squad and the military team don’t trust each other. I guess human nature, in spite of extreme trials is still human nature, another issue I am working on correcting, transparency.

I plan on writing to you about the operation, how through the use of duty roosters and full accountability reporting things have been held together. There is a storm of mistrust brewing here. I have to get through to Rosa, make her understand that no secrets can be kept concerning the compound.

Forgive me old friend, but my circumstances here are a paradise compared to those of anyone surviving on the outside. Let alone survivors down under and throughout the middle latitudes. Once again, however, I ask you for your help. Send a message out to Rosa and to the survivors across the globe. Tell them, her, to trust and help each another. They claim there are around 375,000 people left, somewhat higher than Lovelock’s projection. If their number is right, I suspect that 75-80 percent of them are naziistic marauding beasts. It is hard telling how many will be left after they finish killing each other off.

Remember I classify humanity in two categories, the humane and the animal. I need to understand the full potential of this HARRP Complex, you my friend may be able to persuade Rosa to release the information. For the record, they claim only 15,000 are in the badlands, all the rest have migrated above the Arctic Circle. I have repeatedly tried to discover the how and why of, only these four were here when we came on the scene, only to be shut down, ignored and have the subject changed. They tried to blame it on the plagues, once. Perhaps this is the truth that they survived, joined up, and headed north out of Washington State as they claimed.

So much is still a mystery. Sometimes, here in the early morning hours I forget how fortunate I am. After all, I have my son, how and why we escaped the pandemics, the naziistic bastards and made it here, I will never know. I will leave you with a statement from my father, “old too soon and wise too late.” Write that letter Bob, literally the slim chance our species has may depend upon this outpost of antiquity. Who knows, if man does survive, this may become a fabled story like Atlantis.

Your friend winging it, as always. Anthony.

P.S. Just saw your post of the 5th. Here is my attempt at a poetic response.

Never awakening the masses knew not what their shopping sprees would cost the lot
Laughing and joking they looked upon those with wisdom to see beyond
Tree huggers, hippies, nature freaks
They thought all was fine all was right
We, the enlightened worked day and night
We tried to reason by logic, scare by fright
We did not fail humanity
It was the Naziistic Beast
That failed we of humane divinity.

Anthony’s answer to his question; why did we hate our children and theirs- touched him.

Replaying it once more to look at the other images and memories, he had so much to tell Anthony in the next hologramletter to him.

So much to do; so little time.

Man's folly - The 'HAIL MARY' clouds.

2009-03-28T22:23:00.000-07:00

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.

January 7th 2030

He had more time to reflect on the hologramletters from Anthony and Suzanne than he had planned.

He was eager to write back and answer their questions and learn of their thoughts to his as to why our global population had stopped caring for those we held most dear; our children and theirs.

His solar recharge had been slow all day, with the blackish yellow rain clouds blocking out the sun for almost the entire day.

Man's folly once again.

The reckless geoengineering of the atmosphere in 2015, the ‘Hail Mary Project’ had not been the silver bullet to avert catastrophic climate change. All it had done was to allow the ‘business as usual polluters’ more time for more distraction. More time to pollute. The 2 billion dollar annual funding from industrial polluters for the five year project was channelled via US federal funding under the control of the US Defence Advanced Research Projects Agency. The lunatic brainchild, of the Nobel Prize—winning atmospheric scientist Paul Crutzen, that resulted in the release of vast amounts of sulphurous particles into the atmosphere to create a haze that would keep the planet cool, did little of what was promised, but had the effect of increasing air pollution to unimaginable levels, killing millions through the second and third decade of the 21st century. Now the yellowish rain clouds, when they did come to provide the much needed water of life, required his water purification plant to be working without fault. The sulphurous rains had done much to kill off the Amazon in 2017 and devastate the remaining croplands in the Midwest of the US that was now home to a parched desert with life of any form unable to survive.

Time for transmission; time to reach out; had finally arrived:-

Anthony, you may have worried that this message may not arrive. My power supply as you know is limited. The solar mirrors I have angled at the base of this multi-story building that is now my virtual confines are nearly ready for commissioning. The flexible ducting to draw the solar heated air upwards to run the air turbines are in place, so hopefully I will soon have additional energy supply. Yesterday and most of today the Hail Mary clouds have blocked out the sun, but power has gradually built and I can now send this hologramletter to you. I am forwarding also my transmission from Suzanne. Her happiness at her survival is infectious and a source of great hope. She asks questions from her isolation that may be able to be answered by one of the scientists you mentioned. I store all incoming hologramletters in the library files that one day others who survive these times may come across, so if the relay is garbled I can attempt to send you another copy.

Anthony, I see your thoughts, hopes and dreams as if played out in reality on the screens before me. I know this technology isn’t available at the HAARP compound or to Suzanne. Maybe that is all for the better. As you walk through your memories to me and talk of the past; I can see them played out as if I were looking through your eyes. As Suzanne giggles I can feel her hope. Your journey to Alaska was an amazing achievement of great courage. The J team boys are true heroes but I would imagine their suffering and memories as a result of ill fought wars for oil across international borders still plague them. The scene you recalled of the women and children picking berries before they were mercilessly attacked was horrific. I wept for the memory and for your loss.

Do you remember where you were when the Big Thunder struck? Rosa you mentioned read my book, she may recall when I wrote it, I warned that the ‘best available science’ of climate change wasn’t keeping up and our policy makers weren’t getting the message. Although not widely understood by the everyday person, I penned.

...They could see the permafrost line moving up the mountains. They could witness the accelerated melt in Greenland where once it was thought that it would take 10,000 years for surface melting to penetrate down to the bottom of the icesheet, now observed as swirling rivers disappearing in the blink of an eye, in just ten seconds. They could predict an ice-free Arctic where air temperatures had risen several times above the global average by 2–3 degrees over the last thirty years. Some of those self-interested nations, including the United States, Russia, and Canada, were even perversely arguing over who should have the oil rights as the Arctic thawed. Greater reserves of carbon to burn!...And

...Jakobshavn Isbrae glacier on its 700 kilometres journey to the coast whose speed since 1997 has doubled and now at 15 kilometres per year it claims the world land speed record for glaciers discharging melt-water of somewhere in the region of 50 cubic kilometres per year into Baffin Bay.

Do the scientists you have with you still maintain an ultra conservative pursuant for advice, or are they now more directly observant and reality based in their guidance in giving direction to you?

In your hologramletter you retell many of the problems you still face. You are too modest in your claims to be winging it Anthony. We go back too far for me to not know how resilient and resourceful you truly are. If there is anyone I know; you are up to the challenge of leadership in the face of adversity.

Until then….Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you all.

Suzanne you uplift me. Please don’t stop the laughter in your voice and thoughts when you next write, they ease many deeper troubles that plague our ordinary days.

I remember that ad you spoke of, "The last computer you'll ever need, with infinite power and infinite speed." It made me laugh then and again now. They failed to say for its 10 kilos of weight they had milled, mined, distilled, and consumed some 18 tonnes or so of finite and fossil reserves. Or that the 250 watts an hour of power need to run it, emitted ¾ of a tonne of CO2 in greenhouse gases each year. But then if they had, maybe some would have thought twice about biannually upgrading ‘The last computer you’ll ever need, with infinite power and infinite speed’ and then where would their pursuit of infinite growth and profits have been?

The time you took to view your wonderful find of old alkaline batteries, and solar panels was fabulous. I want you to be very careful with the alkaline batteries though as they may no longer be safe. You see, over time alkaline batteries are prone to leaking potassium hydroxide, a caustic agent that can cause respiratory, eye and skin irritation. In an alkaline battery the anode (negative terminal) is made of zinc powder and the cathode (positive terminal) is composed of manganese dioxide and to work they use the potassium hydroxide. If you can see a feathery crystalline structure leaking from the seams of the battery leave them well alone. Back when they were made they also contained a small amount of mercury amalgam. We now know that these heavy metals and compounds were the cause of some of the toxic contamination to landfills in our throw-away society back in the late 20th and early 21st century. Just one more legacy we were leaving for others to clean up.

On your solar panel find, I’m afraid I can’t be of immediate help. I would like you to go back when it is safe to venture out again and send me some more images through your eyes. I noticed that the cartons are sealed. It is very likely that the installation instructions are in those boxes. If so, I can relay them as you view them through to Anthony in Alaska. I am forwarding his recent letter to me, through to you. Some of his memories are very sad; but don’t let them cause you sadness now, there is also much hope in his voice. As you’ll see, he has some colleagues at the HAARP compound that may be able to help with some of your technical issues.

Your memories of the earlier years when we first met are still strong and brought back much to me. I remember you telling me how you wanted to join the ‘army of change to a safe future’ after you were inspired by reading my book back then. You told me it offered many alternatives if we should choose to follow them and provided for a different future to the one we now face. Had only more made the same choice as you. You were a tireless and unflinching ‘comrade in arms’ Suzanne. Do you still have your copy?

I still have two copies. As it happens I had them framed in a display box when the proof copies first arrived from New York in October 2008. I had found the tail feather of a Red Tailed Black Cockatoo on my property in the Perth hills back then, and framed the quill along with an antiques inkwell with the books in the display box. As I now look out on those hills from this building the trees are now dead and the cockatoos long since extinct. One day when my time comes to join them, some others may come along, and as I do, reflect on the outcome for collective humanity if more had headed ‘the call to arms for the good of earth’ that the book endorsed.

Until I see though your laughing eyes once more ….Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you all.

As the hologramletters left on their journey to Suzanne and Anthony the incoming transmission light flickered. Was it Anthony with more news or Suzanne with answers to his questions. The face of someone he vaguely remembered came to the screen. The voice seemed to stir a distant memory.

Bob, you may not remember me my name is Mathew from……… and then it was gone. The hologram faded as quickly as it had formed. Who might that have been he thought?

The light flickered once more. This time it was Anthony from the HAARP complex. As the power supply gauge was quickly reaching zero he flicked the switch to store the message in the library files, this would have to wait. Maybe tomorrow the Hail Mary clouds would clear and his batteries could be returned to full power.

Many questions to ask – Why did we hate our children and theirs?

2009-03-21T16:53:00.000-07:00

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.

January 5th 2030.

My friends.

As you know, my power supply is very limited not permitting much time for transmissions. I have been working on increasing collection and capacity and soon will be able to spend more time to answer your questions to me.

Today, I need and ask for your help, and thoughts.

For several years I have been troubled with the question as to why we collectively avoided the human morality we were blessed with. Why did we hate our children and theirs?

As I remember and reflect on my own awakening, more pressing becomes the question, "When did our collective humanity loose our desire for life?" I can't help but continue to ask myself, "When was that date? When was that time in our collective human awareness when we said, 'We do not care for our children; theirs; mine and yours?'”

Maybe there were many dates that could be said that; that was the time. That was the turning point when we stopped caring. That was the date when we failed the future. When we gave up when we said, “let’s all go shopping instead.”

What price then, did we put on the life of a single child? On the life of mine, on the life of yours and on the life of others, and when did it happen? Can you help me answer this question? It has haunted me now for many years.

When was the date we relinquished all care for our children and theirs to others? Others that cared not for your child, mine or others put in harms way, those that focused not on human safety, or the infinite survival of man, but on greed, power and protection, of their vested commercial and political interests. At what date did we complacently evolve into not caring for our children; theirs; mine and yours?

Was it in the first decade of the 21st century? Had something external, cosmic or terrestrial occurred at midnight on December 31st 1999? Was that the date?

Was it with Kyoto in 1997 that we started trading human life for continuing with our addiction to consumption at the cost of our children?

Was it at Copenhagen in December 2009, when we started to trade our children’s lives? Or was it earlier?

Was it in late 2008 and throughout 2009 / 2010 where the economic crisis as they called it, was seen of more concern than the lives of our children, mine; yours; and theirs?

As you can plainly see, I have been vexed with these questions for many years now. My awakening was at my 17 year old daughter Emma’s bedside in February of 1999 when after a massive, unexpected, and sudden asthma attack, could not breathe... by the time we had called the ambulance and it arrived, with sirens blaring and lights flashing she was rushed to the hospital; we had lost her twice. She had died; she was revived and in intensive care for quite some time. As we sat by her bedside in constant vigil over the next two weeks or so, there was not one thought or doubt in my mind that I would have willingly traded places with her in a heartbeat. I would have traded my life. My wife and I wanted our children to have the future we dreamed of for them, from the very moment we brought them into the world. For me, this never changed.

Do you remember yours?

We now know, all did not have an awakening, or we would not be; where we now are.

Would we could, return to that date, we would surely want to change the future we have left for our children to inherit. Wouldn’t we?

Wouldn’t we, now looking back with 20/20 hindsight have risen up as a single human voice; a voice of collective humanity demanding a safe future?

Wouldn’t we now looking back with 20/20 hindsight have taken the power to change to a safe future away from those that didn’t care for our children, mine; yours; and theirs?

Did I fail Emma? Did you fail those you loved? Did they fail theirs? What was the date?

We knew the price of everything, but the cost of nothing.

What was the date, and what was the price we put on our children, mine; yours; and theirs?

You may not be able to answer my questions, at least my problems shared are my memories aired.

Until tomorrow ….Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you all.

Letters of horror and of hope.

2009-03-19T19:29:00.000-07:00

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.

January 4th 2030

The solitude he had chosen today, may, he thought one day come to an end. No longer the young environmental activist of earlier years, he often felt tired. He laboured to maintain the basic infrastructure of the place he now called home.
The sustainable energy supply from his solar system and the water he relied on to give him life. He often thought of abandoning his security here for other northern regions. Maybe one day he would see a reason to do so.

The time of day had now come for him to venture out; even if only within his virtual reality view of the shattered world. Would there be word today to raise his hopes. Would he receive a hologramletter?

He turned on the main monitor. The stored photovoltaic power built slowly. His hopes were high. As full power supply was reached, his spirits soared. The transmission materialised – It was Anthony!

Greetings Bob:
January 4, 2030.

It is amazing to have seen your message. What has it been, just over ten years since we have spoken, a few months before the Big Thunder. I still see the coverage of it in my nightmares, all that ice cascading into the sea. We tried to warn them, remember, way back in 09. I told you my crazy little theory then that someday an earthquake would cause the increasingly brittle ice of Greenland to crack up and run into the sea.

I am in Alaska now; actually, holding up with four scientists in parts of the HAARP compound. This place is amazing. They had to have alternative uses in mind when they constructed it. It is our hope that someday a computer genius will happen along, in order to break some of the security codes. I would love to read all the classified information in the system here. It is a rather long story, how I got here. I will give you the nuts and bolts of it now. Right after the Big Thunder, my son and five of his buddies came to me seeking leadership. They had heard me more than once expanding upon the prospect of this event, when we were all camping and fishing on the islands of the Mississippi. I miss those quiet times late at night, when the only real threat was West Nile from mosquitoes. It seems almost surreal now. My son and his buddies are ex-special forces, which perhaps, is why I am still alive today.

We tried the eco-village lifestyle a couple of times over the years. Marauders came in the first time, stealing and wrecking everything when we were on a fishing expedition. The second time, I and the men were on a recon mission securing medical supplies from an abandoned military installation. We had several places for the women and children to hide in, had great alarm systems to alert them when marauders came around. They were caught out in the woods picking berries beyond the perimeter. I will spare you the details of what we found. It was all I could do to keep the group together after that. They were thirsting for blood revenge.

For years we travelled north, sort of a vigilantly anti-marauder squad. I kept the group together by allowing them to attack only when we caught the marauders plundering and attacking others. The J-team, my boys squad, wanted to wipe out camps along the way. It would’ve been a suicide mission. They are good, but not that good. Long story short, on a recon mission near Juneau we ran across 16 a-holes pinning down and shooting at four women held up in an old barracks. It didn’t take long for the squad to neutralize the situation. We found four women scientists who were conducting a recon search for supplies. Rosa is their leader she was the one who mentioned your message. It seems she was a freshman in college when she read your book. You made an impact Bob. She became a paleoclimatologist. I didn’t tell her we once worked together.

Our little group has expanded from 11 to 67. There is so much to tell you about. However, I hear an argument brewing as the hunting party is returning. About half the group are strict vegans, I am not in that number. My boy, Rosa, and I make up the ruling consul. If these people only knew, I make it up as I go along; it is very lonely at times. For the past seven years I have not run across anyone older than 44. We, my friend, are relics – you at 77 and me at 67.

I have to run, but let me pass this on first. They, the science squad, have come to a conclusion about Big Thunder. It is now their scientific consensus that after the ice cascaded into the ocean Greenland’s land mass shifted upwards. The result was extensive methane releases, hence no ice age, unleashing the onslaught of disasters that brought civilization to its knees.

It is very heart warming to know there is someone out there who can recall the good times. I will write later. Right now I have to play Kissinger.

Anthony

P.S. Before I run, Bob, there are valleys here that look like the Garden of Eden. We have a botanist in the group, Viki. She has found new plants species. I never mentioned to you that I suspected rapid climate change caused evolution to make leaps and jumps. Through all the devastation we have witnessed, it is amazing to see new life springing forth upon the earth. Sadly, we will never live to see what the next dominant species of the planet will be.

The tears streamed down his face as he replayed the message.

Stopping to see each of the images as Anthony described them.
Each of the touch screens were a virtual tour of the memories and current images, that Anthony’s hologramletter narrated. The views gave horror, sadness and many vivid emotions. The closing images of the valleys; of the Garden of Eden that Anthony could see from his compound, gave Bob hope in Anthony’s final message. Some had survived and the planet was evolving slowly. He replayed the message once more. Tomorrow when power supply permitted he would reply.

With some remnants of sadness still hanging over him, he reached forward to turn off the monitor.

He paused; the monitor’s incoming transmission light flickered.

His spirits again soared, it was Suzanne!

Greetings Bob,

I hope that this communication will find you well. Since my finding you, I've been spending time to transcribe my audio recordings from the years so that not only can I look back at all that I have experienced, but also to put it into some semblance of what it has been like to share with you and others. I've kept logs of my thoughts and experiences, photos and notes on this micro, knowing that maybe the day would come that I could share this with someone.

The occasional giggle escapes me because sometimes I have to laugh when I indulge in using this computer -- it was the last item I purchased before tendered currency became obsolete. I can even remember the ad, "The last computer you'll ever need, with infinite power and infinite speed." Catchy little slogan as it was -- I have to say they were right, it hasn't faltered even once since I bought so long ago. Sometimes too, I laugh when I remember finding you on twitter. I'll save the reminiscent thoughts for another time...

I've been able to salvage enough supplies to sustain me now for I think at least a few months, knowing of course that everything must be conserved as long as possible, but now is the time to also find a way to create a permanent living environment, my wandering days have taken their toll. I have a difficult time reminding myself at times that I'm not 30 or 40 years old anymore. Where did the years go? Oh wait I remember, we were trying to survive our own self-destruction... that too I'll save for later, at least for this communiqué, the focus on this message must be on the present.

I want to share with you what I am facing and existing in, before what I've been through, so this brief transmission will give you a bit of a tour of my explorations here since I arrived. As you can see in these images, this complex is quite massive, probably one of the city's older complexes, the skywalks connecting at different levels were clearly not in the original plans of these buildings, and it hasn't had the solar retrofits on any of the buildings, or at least none yet that I've explored.

Two days after my transmission to you I stumbled onto a remarkable discovery ~ I've been digging and searching through basements and lower levels but when I came into this building, I was drawn to the upper floors. Would you look at all this!!! Micro cells, old alkaline batteries, and solar panels still encased in their original boxes. I just couldn't contain my excitement on this find and decided that I had to contact you as soon as possible with it!

I'm not sure how I will be able to put this all together, but I know that I will find a way to use these sources. Any advice in implementing these items into my living conditions would be greatly appreciated. I hadn't done the installation work on what I had lived with before, so my experience in getting it all operational is almost non-existent.

I'm hoping that tomorrow the haze clears enough for me to be able to begin to retrieve much of what I found, but for now I must be patient and content with the fact that I am here, I have survived, and God willing, I will be able to share more of what life has been, is, and will be again soon.

Ever in friendship,
Suzanne

As he finished her letter the supply gauge displayed ZERO amps remaining.

He would need to wait to see through her eyes and revisit her memories, until later.

He had this to look forward to, and much to occupy his thoughts, until then.

A time of quiet reflection.

2009-03-17T21:55:00.000-07:00

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.

The night had passed with refection on how far we had come from the beginning to where we now were, in the short history of man.

As he sat there in the dim luminescence provided by the plants he had propagated, he read the excerpt from his book.

It was of the sobering description of man’s time on earth from David Brower, an eighty-five-year-old retired executive director of the Sierra Club. David had put us, our history as a species, our agricultural revolution, and our Industrial Revolution into a thoughtful perspective by compressing all geological time, from the initial formation of the earth some 4.5 billion years ago, right up to now into the six days of biblical creation.

Using that compressed time scale (one day = 750 million years), Earth is formed by a solar nebula at midnight, the beginning of the first day Monday. All day Monday is spent getting geologically organized. There is no life until Tuesday morning about 8:00 a.m. Amazingly, life, beginning with that first spontaneous cell somewhere in the primordial oceans, lifts itself by its own bootstraps, and survives. The prokaryote bacteria appear quickly then proliferate, into mind-bending diversity, ever more complex. About Tuesday noon the blue green algae already begin to create oil deposits.

Millions upon millions of species come during the week, and millions go. What begins as a very toxic and hostile environment gradually is detoxified and sweetened as each species, through its metabolic processes, prepares the hostile environment for the next species, and the next, gradually sweetening earth’s evolving biosphere and preparing the way for those that preceded us, and for us.

Thursday morning, just after midnight, photosynthesis—gradually building since Tuesday—gets going in high gear. Oxygen begins to accumulate in the atmosphere and the protective ozone shield begins to develop. Soon after, early Thursday morning in the wee small hours, more complex eukaryote cells, like those that will come to make up our own bodies, appear. Life begins then to really flourish and evolve into more diverse and complex forms.

By Saturday morning—the sixth day, the last day of creation—there’s enough oxygen in the atmosphere and sufficient ozone shield in the stratosphere that the amphibians can come onto land, and there has been enough chlorophyll manufactured for the forests and other land vegetation to begin to form coal deposits.

Around four o’clock Saturday afternoon the giant reptiles appear. They hang around for quite a long time as a class of animals goes, until 9:55 p.m., nearly six hours. (That would be really long for a species. None has lasted that long and our species is not likely to either!). Just a few minutes after they are gone, a bit after 10:00 p.m. Saturday night, the primates appear. (Incidentally the Grand Canyon begins to take shape only about sixteen minutes before midnight.) Australopithecus, the first species on that branch off the main primate branch, the one that eventually leads to us, shows up in Africa at 11:53 p.m., seven minutes ago.
Homo sapiens arrive at 11:59 and 54 seconds—That is us!

ARRIVING ON THE SCENE JUST SIX SECONDS AGO!

The last six seconds at the end of a very long week, that’s how long we’ve been here. “Let the Party begin.” But the party becomes a binge when, just a little over one second ago, 1.2 seconds in geological time, we (our forefathers) throw off the habits of hunting and gathering and settle down to become farmers, and begin to change and sacrifice the environment to suit, and feed, our appetites.

A third of a second to midnight: Buddha. A quarter of a second to midnight: Jesus of Nazareth. One-fortieth of a second ago, the Industrial Revolution ushers in the age of technology; the party picks up steam, so to speak, and kicks off the great carbon blow-out that will characterize the first Industrial Revolution.

An eightieth of a second, we discover oil and the carbon blow-out accelerates. One two-hundredths of a second ago we learn how to split the atom, and the party gets very dangerous, indeed. I would show a timeline for this week, but the last one-fourteenth of a second would not be discernible. If the timeline were one mile long, the Industrial Revolution would occupy the last .003 inch!

One human lifetime, about 0.001 inch.

And now it’s midnight, the beginning of the seventh day.

God is resting while we work.

As he finished reading and he put the book down, the words of an old song back from 2008 came to him ‘How far we’ve come.’ – ‘I believe the world is coming to an end, Oh well I guess we’ll just pretend.’

He walked over humming it to his hydroponic vegetable garden – a rye smile came over his face as he remembered being told that plants responded to music.

The morning would soon come and the day would pass, while he waited to see if any transmission would arrive from somewhere in the world. A hologramletter that would allow him to see through others eyes and memories, the present as it was and the past how it had been.

He picked up the book once more and read the words.

“Will we ask with 20/20 hindsight what could we have done? Or will we with 20/20 foresight, do what needs to be done?”

He now knew the answer to his 21 year old question.

Am I alone with my thoughts today?

2009-03-12T21:15:00.000-07:00

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.

It was approaching the time of day he looked forward to the most. His daily receipt of hologramletters.

He walked to the bank of video screens and turned on the main monitor. Who if anyone would he hear from today? The screen came to life. There was what seemed like an eternity as he stood and waited. He feared today would be one where he was left alone with only his own thoughts.

Then as he was about to give hope away, a transmission came to life. The image took his breath away as he looked on the face of a friend he had long since thought he would never see or hear from again.

The voice and images sent were from Suzanne.

As he listened to the voice seeing the images of where she had found refuge from the world’s problems his spirits soared.

He switched on the other monitors and now he could walk with the pictures as if he were there.

A diary of her daily life, her personal trials for survival were now unfolding before his eyes.
Although the message was brief he could pause to see on the various screens the scenes she was describing.

He could see as if through her eyes as she recounted her memories and her life as it now was.

The hologramletter read.

Hi Bob! It’s Suzanne here.

Dear Bob,I'm amazed that I have found you, after all these years, you're the first that I knew from the past that I've seen.

It seems forever since I've had the luxury of electricity. Only a few short days ago did I find the last part needed to repair a broken-down generator I found once able to make my way back to what used to be a metropolitan area.

It's been a difficult road this almost 2 decades - the hardest part of survival being able to find clean water and food supplies to sustain me through this journey. I've been in this city for several weeks now, cautiously exploring and yet to find no other living souls. I have a few plants growing up here in this office suite I've settled my residency in. It must have been a high paid executive's office.

Sitting here looking out over the desolation, (it's obvious that this city was deserted long ago, maybe even before the cataclysmic change at the end of 2012) I can't even imagine what the previous resident of this office may have been thinking as things were coming to an end.

So here I find myself, now scouring through what little is left of world wide web, the most expansive communication network at the peak of our "technological" age finding more of a ghost town than the one I find myself living in. How stable this connection will be I can't say, though I will keep in contact as often as I can.

It's funny, I can still remember how mind-boggling and overwhelming the technology that was going to change the world (and of course did as we witnessed our own destruction)... now it seems not much more than a shattered shell of a memory, and all the kings horses and all the kings men that which consumed every possible natural resource, polluted and destroyed civilization, could not fix it and put it back together again.

We saw it coming, and I joined your cause to enlighten the world ~ we tried to get them to listen, take action, and change their ways, but as we sit here now, we know it was too late.

Oddly enough, I still have hope that there will be redemption, that life can survive and once again flourish on this planet ~ we've made it this far, however few of us there are, where no one was supposed to make it at all. Maybe, just maybe, now we have the chance to teach those that are left so that nature can heal and live again, albeit not in our lifetime, maybe in the centuries to come.

If only in our dreams...

Ever in friendship,
Suzanne (ByDezin)

January 2030. A call to hope.

2009-03-12T20:44:00.000-07:00

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.

He stood looking down on the once busy city streets.

The sky is dull even though long ago the pollution for the coal fired power stations that pumped electricity to the dependant urban population have ceased to emit their deadly carbon dioxide. He remembered the promises of the pro-coal lobby and the politicians back in the first decade of the 21st century. ‘We can continue with business as usual – we are investing in clean coal technology and carbon capture and storage’

He researched this in depth back in those days and tried to alert people to the absurdity of their claims.

The streets below are now deserted, long since flooded by rising sea levels. The assurances of the science community that the risks of sea level rises of several inches by 2100 now in 2030 seemed like a science and political conspiracy. As they waited during those years to present their peer reviewed verifiable reports to policy makers based on observed outcomes of climate change; climate change didn’t wait with the same patience.

He has only distant memories of streets bustling with people all mindlessly going about their commercial activities. Working day in and day out to earn more money to buy more and more consumer goods they couldn’t afford and didn’t need.

Many resources had become extinct during the second decade of the 21st century. Resources just like the fragile natural environment that most had just taken for granted. Use once and then throw away, had been the normal practice of modern day life with no one hearing the message of conservation. The bubble of consumerism without consideration of overshoot had to bust. The population by 2010 had grown to needing 2 – 3 planets to support it.

He remembered when in 2006 he read the example of the carrying capacity and the outcome for St Mathew Island in the Bering Sea when stocked with twenty-nine reindeer in 1944. Specialists had calculated that the island could support 13 to 18 reindeer per square mile, or a total population between 1,600 and 2,300 animals. By 1957, the population was 1,350; but by 1963 with no natural controls or predators, the population had exploded to 6,000. The original calculations had been correct; this number vastly exceeded carrying capacity and was soon decimated by disease and starvation by 1966 there were only 42 reindeer alive of these last 42, save one very sick male, were all female.

Like other past civilizations the overshoot of their business as usual and living as usual habits had now caught up with the global population of man. By 2050 in a mere 20 years time projections suggested a mere 200,000 would remain in isolated pockets of human inhabitation around the planet.

He looked around him at the room in which he spent most of his time. The bank of power cells he had collected took constant care in order that the solar power he collected from the roof on the high rise he now called home would not let him down when he needed supply. No power was wasted as had been in the days long since passed into history.

He walked to the hydroponic garden room and plucked a leaf from one of the lettuces he grew. He had been careful to collect the seeds each time they had gone to flower, painstakingly pollinating them by hand. Mother natures bees had long since gone. The day for their end of birth long since passed.

In the second decade of the 21st century there had been much genetic engineering of crops by multinational corporations like Monsanto. They like the coal lobby had green washed the public and the politicians of the day with their assurances that seed modification genetically modified not to produce viable seed for future crops, was in the interests of feeding a swelling global population. Their tampering with nature had only one outcome.

So now at least in this isolated desolate city the only green remaining was in that room.

It was approaching the time of day he looked forward to the most. His daily receipt of hologramletters.

The previous day it had been New Years day January 1st 2030. He had sent out a call to all he was still connected to. His hologramletter had read:-

Well it’s now January 1st 2030.
Thanks to all of you for your daily hologramletters, I look forward to them every day.

There seems more time in the day these last few years to put my thoughts down and to keep in touch with the few of you that are left. Sadly many of my friends and yours have fallen by the wayside. Their homes swallowed up by advancing deserts or inundated with rising sea levels. Some have sarcome to starvation and lack of clean drinking water and many to disease. I know a few must have survived by moving to the remaining isolated areas that can still support life, but many have lost contact and I fear we will never hear from them again.

As I sit down this New Years day to write this letter to you my friends, I look back on the last few years since the publishing of my book ZERO Greenhouse Emissions -The Day the Lights Went Out – Our Future World and ponder what more I could have done to change the future, with a sense of sadness. Then I was only 56 now I am a 77. I have reached what they once called three score years and ten and passed it by seven long years. But what a time it has been.

Years have passed since the hope for our planet hinged on this or that politician being elected to make a change but none did.
I remember in 2009 when the first African American President was elected to the United States. President Obama just like my hopes and dreams has now passed into history. They say the mistake he made was to focus efforts on trying to save an economic system that was inevitably destined for demise. A system that relied not only in preserving the way of life of the American population that could not be saved under the way that they had lived, but missed the point that these issues were transitory, but the climate crisis was not.

I look back now with sadness that all were listening to today’s problems but ignoring those that would strike tomorrow. We had the chance back then but failed. I thought if enough woke up – bought my book and realised the truth then, we would become the army of concern for a safe future that would change our future to one that was not finite. As I sit here now I’m saddened that we missed that opportunity.

We will more than likely be described by those that survive this time in the short history of man, as those that could have made a change, but could not be bothered. Those that could have made a difference, but just didn’t care about others.
Those that could have saved humanity, but just kept on consuming.
Those that could have secured a safe future, but just kept bickering about who should be first.
Those that could have saved humanity, but preferred to go shopping.

I don’t know what more I could have done. Even now; looking back on the last 21 years, I don’t know what more; I could have done.

In 2008 when I wrote the book, I thought I could make a difference. I pushed for every mother of every child, every father of every child, to read it to understand how we were putting their children – not just theirs, but mine and yours in peril. They were deaf to the pleas. I, as with many others worked tirelessly to wake them up. Wake them up from the illogical sleepwalk they were on. They slept on. Many of these other crusaders for change have now gone. I still lament the passing of James Lovelock, Al Gore amongst others. I miss their wisdom and their passion.

So here we are in 2030 with the outcome of our global sleepwalk and that of our political masters back in those days. Here we are in world of irreversible of climate change. Here we are in a world of atmospheric concentration of CO2-e of 1,000ppm at the level of 55 million years ago. At the level as we are seeing now where all ecosystems have failed and only a few of us still survive. They say there may be as few as 200,000 of the 7 billion of the worlds population in 2010 left by 2050. I know I won’t be one of them.

It is amazing looking back that we fell for the claims from Industry and from world politicians that we could go on as we had and there would be no outcome to our lives or the planet. I know many at the time believed these messages and went on as they always had. Sad isn’t it that so many have died because of this ignorance and complacency?

I remember in the first decade of the 21st century when they saw the Polar Regions heating up at three times the global average and they just said that further evidence was needed before verifiable scientific reports could be presented. Then the West Antarctic ice shelves collapsed and they said well we thought they might. Millions then perished.

I remember at the same time they were telling us that the permafrost in the Arctic was melting and would release billions of tonnes of methane into the already overburdened carbon pool in the atmosphere, but no one listened. I remember at that time when we were at 390ppm that the world had been a very different place to when levels had been that high before. We knew that at 390ppm in 2008 the concentrations of CO2 were almost identical to those in the Pliocene atmosphere 3 million years ago and that global temperatures then were 3 degrees higher than the average in that first decade of the 21st century, but we just went shopping.

So we let emissions keep rising. We allowed the polluters of our fragile planet to keep polluting, we allowed ourselves to keep going on as we had. And then it hit. We didn’t think it would; but then as they say Shit Happens.

I’ll write tomorrow. Stay safe – stay indoors. Much hope to you all.