MANS' ILLOGICAL SLEEPWALK

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.

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.

"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

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.

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

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.

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?