2030 Seems Like Only Yesterday
Let's party like it's 2099.
Unsplash doesn’t have any problem with happy pictures.
When I first became conscious of the imminent collapse, most of the predictions still gave us a cut-off date of 2100.
A few years passed, and that date was gradually lowered until it reached 2030. People started to get justifiably worried. That’s too close for comfort.
Then, the most amazing thing happened. The number started going back up despite the increasing severity of extreme events. It almost seemed as if each unprecedented drought or flood or hurricane added years to the predicted collapse date.
It went up to 2040, then 2050, then 2070, and now it rests comfortably at 2100 again.
I feel so much better knowing that nothing really bad will happen in my lifetime.
By 2040, I’ll be 85 years old, a doddering old fool making inappropriate comments in public, oh wait, I do that now.
By 2050, I’ll be 95 years old, probably pissing myself in the grocery store and not understanding why everyone is staring at my crotch
By 2070, I’ll be long dead, and depending on what really happens after you die, beyond worrying about anything.
By 2100, the only thing left of this world will be Keith Richards, who doesn’t have an expiration date.
There was a very brief moment when everyone, including scientists, knew we were in big fat trouble. Things were happening, and they were happening fast. No one seemed to understand how this great acceleration could have taken place. This lasted for around 5 years.
Then it all changed
Now there are articles every day telling us that scientists are, once again, baffled by events. Whatever they learned in the last few years vanished into the ether.
They are spending their time doing the really important work of producing a methane free cow. A noble endeavor to be sure.
“I saw the best minds of my generation, starving, hysterical, naked,” and producing methane free cows.
What a marvelous world.
All the important things in our lives, like the next season of The Bachelor or Bachelorette, new blockbuster movies, going on vacations to New Zealand, watching kids grow up, consuming massive amounts of resources so we can get our packages delivered by tomorrow, asking ChatGPT funny questions just to see what it will say, and pretending that we care about things will all be intact until we die.
Isn’t that a relief?
We can sit back and enjoy ourselves, secure in the knowledge that the unimaginable suffering of millions, perhaps billions, of people won’t interfere with our Christmas celebrations until we’re long gone.
Of course, we’ll miss all the “benefits” of a “sooner than expected” collapse. Things like not having to pay off our credit cards, not having to go to work, and not having to worry about where the rent money is going to come from.
But, hey, I’m willing to make a few sacrifices if it allows for another 75 years of delusional thinking.
Get out there and enjoy all tomorrow’s parties.
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Well, B, The Honest Sorcerer, apparently still sees significance in 2030 as the edge of our current civilization’s Seneca Cliff. I suspect Richard Crimm would agree that 2030 will show us extended episodes of the worst to come. Ugo Bardi is quite likely onboard with B and Richard. What say you, about you and me agreeing with them that the day the SHTF is essentially a mere blink of the eye away? I believe The Archdruid was correct when he prophetically suggested that we should “collapse now and avoid the rush.”
The change that you sense has little to do with the collapse that we are entering with the pedal to the metal but shrinking attention spans. Our ability to count has been reduced to base three. One, Two, Three, Many. Five is infinity.