The future is very visible in the world all around us, and the prospects ahead are frightful.   Although Americans continue to be detached from the menace posed by the Great Powers, even our own, there is no chance as the world’s freshwater, fish, fruit, wheat and grain are diminished by ravaging insect hordes, heat, fire and chemical contamination, that these Great Powers, who have gone the fascist direction overnight in the past century, will sit still and allow themselves unmoved to meditate into extinction.  There will be a war. Judging from the many indications, spoken and unspoken, about AIDS, it may come quickly in a form that takes the vulnerable in horror by surprise. In representing the plight of Greta Thunberg, I chose a statue from the incendiary, despicable University of Washington, that of the girl in 1000 Cranes who believes she will recover from nuclear poisoning if she folds 1000 paper origami cranes, and of course she dies before she does.  It is made all the sadder by the fact that the story comes from the cruel, cruel mind of Japan. Little, angry Miss Thunberg is an object of entertainment for the world’s police, boxed into her Alamo as part of the grand spectacle. They don’t know how to see it for reality, they just can’t.

         It is impossible to reason with society, I know this from sad experience.   In theory there are outlets, media in Seattle, newspapers in Pittsburgh, touring spokespersons.   The momentum is clearly a headlong crash into a vomit bag situation that may force the Earth to push the reset button and do without human beings, our stories, our studies, our sex acts, our paintings and our poetry.   The Earth was fine without us. The combined weight of our individually sad stories, the tears of our children, the songs of our birds, very likely will have no effect on a stubborn planet.   

        The obstacles, the refusal to lead, the refusal to hear, are so dirty of purpose, disdainful in cynicism and traditional as folkways that it has become a pecuniary curiosity to see how anyone argues themselves out of the idea that we are committed to bringing doomsday, almost as though a class picnic.   I collect Botany tee-shirts, little manuscripts, browse the replies to editorials, noting the antics of the mad hatters in my society, many of whom think that belief in Climate Change is a notion of commies. Reasoning with them is as futile as sitting around waiting for the Beatles to say something about it.

       There are blocks and measures in places to obstruct what could possibly intercept the trajectory of this outrage in the making.  One of the most terrible problems we face is that exposure to trauma, starvation and poison virtually never bring out the best in people.   During the Dust Bowl years the few people who had anything at all blamed the families with their noses and lungs choked with dust for being freeloaders.   We have weeded out the Franklin Delano Roosevelts. America won’t have such a man in office. Obama’s first act was to forgive the auto barons. Had he refused, and pushed us towards mass transit, maybe there would be some reason not to laugh at his strutting and pretense.

          I approached members of his company finance, in the Geffen Corporation, in the late 70’s and 80’s, with ideas about addressing the problems of the environment, but Robert Fripp and Genesis ringleaders didn’t want to hear it, they wanted to rub themselves panting about seedy stories that Pittsburgh Catholic Worker sent their way about me, full of lies.  Seattle was the same way. The ringleaders of the so-called Green Party have only one sinister objective: not being upstaged. They couldn’t care less about public safety, valuable opinions, education, right to know laws, the environment, thinking they do is just a scary laugh.

        It’s easy to find war criminals these days.   They even argue their unique status. Important issues always take second fiddle to sexual prattle in our society.   In the 80’s, a Pentagon official told me, “It is widely believed in the Pentagon that the earth just isn’t going to make it, but who cares, I’ve lived a good life.”  A few people have and I’ve never known one to think beyond themselves. I was sufficiently alarmed to put it directly into print, but UW and their ghouls had in mind a sexual ordeal on behalf of pornographers in the Warhol estate, extermination tripping, a scary, cruel, frightful criminal, a genuinely odious, ripper hatter animal, all sanctioned by Police, named Amanda Harcourt had been hired by Penis Gabriel to run riot over me.

         The cosmic atomic bullshitters in crafty legend lands like Obama are extraordinary for their determination to spit on anything that smells of idealism.   From the beginning, Trump made a big hue and cry about Fake News, heaping derision as he earned it himself. A huge, mentally fantastic, golden spray of Fake News has attended my every waking moment for decades, the bizarre, finagled, understated, ripper hatter yarn by Penis J. Sinfield that I cudda saved John Lennon and that I wasn’t brutally tortured as a child.  Central to both stories is someone named Rudy. Curiously, the murderers in King Crimson had an ultimatum. I would forgive the armed, adult, fascist murderers who molested me without end as acceptance of the AIDS attack in appeal to their crowned and cowering egos. Surprisingly, I almost had when I first approached these sadists in the 70’s, thinking that I was the only victim.  I had been told to move on long enough that I thought it was the only thing I could do.

        The death knell of our species is coming with a ray of light from the AIDS pyre beaming from the forehead of Queen Elizabeth, lisping of never never land goon squads in holy war.    This gang who put a cameo of Trump in the film Network in the mid-70’s when King Crimson issued their plan in the name of Gail Burstyn where they were sure they could find it with the help of Fox and several university professors affiliated with Warhol when the cackling time was ripe for their justified, justified poison, Extermination tripping gang plan, are a network who used sexual services for Catholic slander purposes we call the Cartieri Method.  Cartieri would gesticulate, give the finger, insult, abuse and mock, then, if you did it back, assault you in slaughtering blows. No one dares call the attackers by their given name: The Axis.

       No one’s going to be able to save the world from these rotten chauvinists, not mine, not yours and not for the children.   If they were anything other than the animals that they are, they might have listened in 1980 when I appealed to them in trust to consider using Pentagon Disney powers to start building a Botanical Renaissance.  They said no. It’s irrational and it is irresponsible as adult, mature citizens of a Republic not to truly hate them very bitterly. But it won’t save us, and they have known that a long, long time.