Concrete

*



A storm raged above the city, making of the sky a darkly boiling mass. Fissures of lightning split the gloom with an eye-blinding brightness, as though they were the concentrated blues of the everyday sky fighting to prise the blackness of the clouds apart and shine upon the ground again, however briefly. The westerly waters of Crater Lake leapt against the city's ancient harbour walls and surged amongst the deserted outer docks. It made even the ships within the sheltered inner quays roll and shift uneasily, their hulls compressing the cane fenders to make them creak and crack in protest, while their tall masts swung across the black sky like a forest of disputing metronomes.

Iain M Banks. Inversions.



They slogged it out, our politicians, while from his balcony he watched a woman walk past with a ferret on a lease. They were locked here for the summer. Every day seemed a million years long. From his alcove in the north Bondi cliffs he watched as the dolphins leapt clear of the water. All was not lost; because he was here, bewildered, unexplained, watching the lovers on the rocks while out to sea the dolphins leapt and leapt, creating cries of astonishment from those on the shore observant enough to see. Some were blind to everything but the luxury of the heat. Or the cosiness of nearby cafes. For Lease, shouted the sign outside one of the upmarket townhouses overlooking Australia's most famous beach. Hordes of back packers moved to and fro.

It had been wetter than normal, cold over summer when normally the beach baked in the Great Australian heat and tourists glared pick with the unaccustomed shock of the sun. It sounds terrible, but I've never loked at him that wahy, the loud grating voice said behind him. Eighty percent of blokes... He looked to see who was talking; and saw a chunky blond, far from annerexic, overtaking him, not drawing breath despite his proximithy to what should have been a private conversation. If there had been any decency in the world. A Wicked van is turning in the cul de sac outisde his apartment; and they, too, with their brightly coloured exhortations: "Don't Drink and Drive, Smoke Pot and Fly" says one, with marijuana leaves painted all over it. Almost everyone laughs as they walk past.

There was a whole pod, or more accurately a series of pods, moving up the coast. Sometimes more than half a dozen of them would be in the air at any one time. They were all heading in the same direction, north, and as they leapt through the waves seemed to know precisely where they were going; some watery highway. I can tell you're not drinking, you've got hyour stride back, a neighbour had told him. And the festive season kept cheering and cheering, the bouncing waves, the tumult and the shouting, the drifting luminescent smoke from the fireworks, the Rabelassian scenes of excess spilling out from every luxury apartment in town; another mercedes convertible turning in the cul de sac; another spritely, high maintenance blond taking up more space than she deserved.

There was so much sickness all around him; evil contempt; deranged soldiers; gleaming, bulging eyes; and yet all that was in some suffering, subterranean world which bore no relationship whatsoever to this court circle of indulgence, the glittering wealth of the inner ring, the frothy lives and fruitless disputes. Oh how they talked, those excited girls, as they walked up and down the beach; past the fat businessmen having their once a year splash in the sea with their overweight children; the handsome Italians, the chattering Spaniards. Sometimes he walked past a pure stream of French. American tourists stretched themselves on the rocks, flaunting their hard handosme bodies in front of fauning girlfriends; emoting, moving. He watched everyuthing from his aerie; and could never enter.

A man with his shirt off smokes a cigarette on his balconhy opposite. The park is quiet; the neighbourhood kids off somewhere, causing trouble somewhere else. There wasn't any of the dark despair that had illuminated every wating moment in the inner west; here the saddest thing in sight was a lone gum tree spiking towards the sky, a remnant of a former green valley. The suburbs oldest houses were little more than a hundred metres away; and everything spoke of other lives, of paths which should have been taken, common sense decisions which would have made old age so much more comfortable. Everything had blossomed and everything had died. Trust no one3 remained the simplest motto. Surrender yourself to this simple program, the didacts said, and all he could think was, they're mad, they're mad.

Finally the last of the dolphin pods passed in front of him and the sea resumed its steel grey monotony, the currents visible from this great height, his jealousy of the common man paramount. It is the illusion or the ambition of every alcoholic to be able to drink normally, he heard someone say. Each foot in front of the other meant a failed life; a time that had passed. He couldn't wait to get away, to begin again. To reconstruct a different person. To no longer be derelict inside his own soul. The final splash of the dolphins and the great bay once again settled into its eternal piece, the murmur of holidayu makers, the bustling of the clubs, the memories of recent celebrations fading as the suburb returned to work. Everyone else had a life. He had observer status. It was time to move on. He could hardly control his desire to leave paradise; much less enjoy the moment.



THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/waylon-lewis/john-mackey-whole-foods-c_b_409842.html

But I'm finally losing it, and he's finally losing me.

The below excerpt is from a riveting just-released profile in The New Yorker. It represents Mackey's latest foot-in-mouth jaunt through self-delighted devil's-advocate frankness:


...One of the books on the list was "Heaven and Earth: Global Warming--the Missing Science," a skeptical take on climate change. Mackey told me that he agrees with the book's assertion that, as he put it, "no scientific consensus exists" regarding the causes of climate change; he added, with a candor you could call bold or reckless, that it would be a pity to allow "hysteria about global warming" to cause us "to raise taxes and increase regulation, and in turn lower our standard of living and lead to an increase in poverty." One would imagine that, on this score, many of his customers, to say nothing of most climate scientists, might disagree. He also said, "Historically, prosperity tends to correlate to warmer temperatures."

I don't want to be lost, Mr. Mackey. I love that a libertarian entrepreneur with guts to speak his mind, a la Apple's Jobs, is in charge of one of the greatest green success stories since...well, ever.

Still, as Al Gore said a year or so ago, the time for argument is past. There's a clear consensus among scientists--90% agree that Climate Change is significantly caused by human activities. 94% agree that it's a real and present danger, not a far-off hypothetical fear for science fiction writers to have fun with.

If Climate Change were an "Evil" empire or terrorist group--and let's not kid ourselves, it represents the possibility of a far more pervasive, lasting threat than either to all of us, and our precious economies around the earth--we'd gird ourselves for war. We wouldn't tolerate cynics. Support the troops!, we'd cry. It's time for that same sense of pulling-together, of focus.

It's time to go to War against Climate Change.

http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/secondhandsmoke/2010/01/03/global-warming-hysteria-britain-facing-coldest-winter-in-100-years/

This can’t be right. As much of the USA chatters in the deep freeze–N. Carolina facing a once in a generation cold snap–weather folk in the UK warn it is facing one of the coldest winter in 100 years. From the story:

Britain is bracing itself for one of the coldest winters for a century with temperatures hitting minus 16 degrees Celsius, forecasters have warned. They predicted no let up in the freezing snap until at least mid-January, with snow, ice and severe frosts dominating. And the likelihood is that the second half of the month will be even colder…

Weather patterns were more like those in the late 1970s, experts said, while Met Office figures released on Monday are expected to show that the country is experiencing the coldest winter for up to 25 years.

Oh dear. That’s almost as far back as back when “the scientists” were predicting a new ice age. But at least the polar bears will be happy.

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/editorial/outlook/6795858.html

Now that Copenhagen is past history, what is the next step in the man-made global warming controversy? Without question, there should be an immediate and thorough investigation of the scientific debauchery revealed by “Climategate.”

If you have not heard, hackers penetrated the computers of the Climate Research Unit, or CRU, of the United Kingdom's University of East Anglia, exposing thousands of e-mails and other documents. CRU is one of the top climate research centers in the world. Many of the exchanges were between top mainstream climate scientists in Britain and the U.S. who are closely associated with the authoritative (albeit controversial) Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. Among the more troubling revelations were data adjustments enhancing the perception that man is causing global warming through the release of carbon dioxide (CO2) and other atmospheric greenhouse gases.

Particularly disturbing was the way the core IPCC scientists (the believers) marginalized the skeptics of the theory that man-made global warming is large and potentially catastrophic. The e-mails document that the attack on the skeptics was twofold. First, the believers gained control of the main climate-profession journals. This allowed them to block publication of papers written by the skeptics and prohibit unfriendly peer review of their own papers. Second, the skeptics were demonized through false labeling and false accusations.

Climate alarmists would like you to believe the science has been settled and all respectable atmospheric scientists support their position. The believers also would like you to believe the skeptics are involved only because of the support of Big Oil and that they are few in number with minimal qualifications.

But who are the skeptics? A few examples reveal that they are numerous and well-qualified. Several years ago two scientists at the University of Oregon became so concerned about the overemphasis on man-made global warming that they put a statement on their Web site and asked for people's endorsement; 32,000 have signed the petition, including more than 9,000 Ph.Ds. More than 700 scientists have endorsed a 231-page Senate minority report that questions man-made global warming. The Heartland Institute has recently sponsored three international meetings for skeptics. More than 800 scientists heard 80 presentations in March. They endorsed an 881-page document, created by 40 authors with outstanding academic credentials, that challenges the most recent publication by the IPCC. The IPCC panel's report strongly concludes that man is causing global warming through the release of carbon dioxide.