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weil-weil-lautre · 4 years ago

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By Jonathan Franzen September 8, 2019

“There is infinite hope,” Kafka tells us, “only not for us.” This is a fittingly mystical epigram from a writer whose characters strive for ostensibly reachable goals and, tragically or amusingly, never manage to get any closer to them. But it seems to me, in our rapidly darkening world, that the converse of Kafka’s quip is equally true: There is no hope, except for us.

I’m talking, of course, about climate change. The struggle to rein in global carbon emissions and keep the planet from melting down has the feel of Kafka’s fiction. The goal has been clear for thirty years, and despite earnest efforts we’ve made essentially no progress toward reaching it. Today, the scientific evidence verges on irrefutable. If you’re younger than sixty, you have a good chance of witnessing the radical destabilization of life on earth—massive crop failures, apocalyptic fires, imploding economies, epic flooding, hundreds of millions of refugees fleeing regions made uninhabitable by extreme heat or permanent drought. If you’re under thirty, you’re all but guaranteed to witness it.

If you care about the planet, and about the people and animals who live on it, there are two ways to think about this. You can keep on hoping that catastrophe is preventable, and feel ever more frustrated or enraged by the world’s inaction. Or you can accept that disaster is coming, and begin to rethink what it means to have hope.

Even at this late date, expressions of unrealistic hope continue to abound. Hardly a day seems to pass without my reading that it’s time to “roll up our sleeves” and “save the planet”; that the problem of climate change can be “solved” if we summon the collective will. Although this message was probably still true in 1988, when the science became fully clear, we’ve emitted as much atmospheric carbon in the past thirty years as we did in the previous two centuries of industrialization. The facts have changed, but somehow the message stays the same.

Psychologically, this denial makes sense. Despite the outrageous fact that I’ll soon be dead forever, I live in the present, not the future. Given a choice between an alarming abstraction (death) and the reassuring evidence of my senses (breakfast!), my mind prefers to focus on the latter. The planet, too, is still marvelously intact, still basically normal—seasons changing, another election year coming, new comedies on Netflix—and its impending collapse is even harder to wrap my mind around than death. Other kinds of apocalypse, whether religious or thermonuclear or asteroidal, at least have the binary neatness of dying: one moment the world is there, the next moment it’s gone forever. Climate apocalypse, by contrast, is messy. It will take the form of increasingly severe crises compounding chaotically until civilization begins to fray. Things will get very bad, but maybe not too soon, and maybe not for everyone. Maybe not for me.

Some of the denial, however, is more willful. The evil of the Republican Party’s position on climate science is well known, but denial is entrenched in progressive politics, too, or at least in its rhetoric. The Green New Deal, the blueprint for some of the most substantial proposals put forth on the issue, is still framed as our last chance to avert catastrophe and save the planet, by way of gargantuan renewable-energy projects. Many of the groups that support those proposals deploy the language of “stopping” climate change, or imply that there’s still time to prevent it. Unlike the political right, the left prides itself on listening to climate scientists, who do indeed allow that catastrophe is theoretically avertable. But not everyone seems to be listening carefully. The stress falls on the word theoretically.

Our atmosphere and oceans can absorb only so much heat before climate change, intensified by various feedback loops, spins completely out of control. Some scientists and policymakers fear that we’re in danger of passing this point of no return if the global mean temperature rises by more than two degrees Celsius (maybe more, but also maybe less). The I.P.C.C.—the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change—tells us that, to limit the rise to less than two degrees, we not only need to reverse the trend of the past three decades. We need to approach zero net emissions, globally, in the next three decades.

This is, to say the least, a tall order. It also assumes that you trust the I.P.C.C.’s calculations. New research, described last month in Scientific American, demonstrates that climate scientists, far from exaggerating the threat of climate change, have underestimated its pace and severity. To project the rise in the global mean temperature, scientists rely on complicated atmospheric modelling. They take a host of variables and run them through supercomputers to generate, say, ten thousand different simulations for the coming century, in order to make a “best” prediction of the rise in temperature. When a scientist predicts a rise of two degrees Celsius, she’s merely naming a number about which she’s very confident: the rise will be at least two degrees. The rise might, in fact, be far higher.

As a non-scientist, I do my own kind of modelling. I run various future scenarios through my brain, apply the constraints of human psychology and political reality, take note of the relentless rise in global energy consumption (thus far, the carbon savings provided by renewable energy have been more than offset by consumer demand), and count the scenarios in which collective action averts catastrophe. The scenarios, which I draw from the prescriptions of policymakers and activists, share certain necessary conditions.

The first condition is that every one of the world’s major polluting countries institute draconian conservation measures, shut down much of its energy and transportation infrastructure, and completely retool its economy. According to a recent paper in Nature, the carbon emissions from existing global infrastructure, if operated through its normal lifetime, will exceed our entire emissions “allowance”—the further gigatons of carbon that can be released without crossing the threshold of catastrophe. (This estimate does not include the thousands of new energy and transportation projects already planned or under construction.) To stay within that allowance, a top-down intervention needs to happen not only in every country but throughout every country. Making New York City a green utopia will not avail if Texans keep pumping oil and driving pickup trucks.

The actions taken by these countries must also be the right ones. Vast sums of government money must be spent without wasting it and without lining the wrong pockets. Here it’s useful to recall the Kafkaesque joke of the European Union’s biofuel mandate, which served to accelerate the deforestation of Indonesia for palm-oil plantations, and the American subsidy of ethanol fuel, which turned out to benefit no one but corn farmers.

Finally, overwhelming numbers of human beings, including millions of government-hating Americans, need to accept high taxes and severe curtailment of their familiar life styles without revolting. They must accept the reality of climate change and have faith in the extreme measures taken to combat it. They can’t dismiss news they dislike as fake. They have to set aside nationalism and class and racial resentments. They have to make sacrifices for distant threatened nations and distant future generations. They have to be permanently terrified by hotter summers and more frequent natural disasters, rather than just getting used to them. Every day, instead of thinking about breakfast, they have to think about death.

Call me a pessimist or call me a humanist, but I don’t see human nature fundamentally changing anytime soon. I can run ten thousand scenarios through my model, and in not one of them do I see the two-degree target being met.

To judge from recent opinion polls, which show that a majority of Americans (many of them Republican) are pessimistic about the planet’s future, and from the success of a book like David Wallace-Wells’s harrowing “The Uninhabitable Earth,” which was released this year, I’m not alone in having reached this conclusion. But there continues to be a reluctance to broadcast it. Some climate activists argue that if we publicly admit that the problem can’t be solved, it will discourage people from taking any ameliorative action at all. This seems to me not only a patronizing calculation but an ineffectual one, given how little progress we have to show for it to date. The activists who make it remind me of the religious leaders who fear that, without the promise of eternal salvation, people won’t bother to behave well. In my experience, nonbelievers are no less loving of their neighbors than believers. And so I wonder what might happen if, instead of denying reality, we told ourselves the truth.

First of all, even if we can no longer hope to be saved from two degrees of warming, there’s still a strong practical and ethical case for reducing carbon emissions. In the long run, it probably makes no difference how badly we overshoot two degrees; once the point of no return is passed, the world will become self-transforming. In the shorter term, however, half measures are better than no measures. Halfway cutting our emissions would make the immediate effects of warming somewhat less severe, and it would somewhat postpone the point of no return. The most terrifying thing about climate change is the speed at which it’s advancing, the almost monthly shattering of temperature records. If collective action resulted in just one fewer devastating hurricane, just a few extra years of relative stability, it would be a goal worth pursuing.

#sorry for this essay it's for my #diss #quote #franzen #climate change #archivist #and i don't want to lose the text

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creativejourneysbct · 4 years ago

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My Very First Vlog (assessment)!

For our first Intro to Creative Tech assessment we were tasked with creating a 4-minute vlog explaining why we chose the Bachelor of Creative Technologies, what we expect from it and what we plan to do with it in the future. After weeks of consistently adding ideas to a rolling list of points to include, I spent ages trying to tidy up all those ideas into a coherent script that I used for my final video.

For the video itself, I decided to go with a simple vlog style format consisting of me talking to the camera. Initially, I did this to try and avoid having to do too much editing and use my presenting skills to my advantage. In the end, I did a bit of a mix as I still incorporated a bunch of additional clips and photos for added visual content to help illustrate the points being made.

In the end, I created a video that I’m proud of, but wish it could’ve been longer.

I definitely had a range of mixed feelings throughout this project. During the initial creative process of just putting down ideas of things to include, I was really enjoying it. I only felt a sense of stress when it came time to put all those ideas together and realized that it was way too long for four minutes. It was challenging having to pick things to remove as I had become so attached to all the different points over time. It took me way longer than expected to get a script together that was short enough- this was the most stressful part of the process by far. Especially since 40% of the grade depends on this video- I was so scared of cutting points that would potentially cost me marks. I often just wound up reading and re-reading the script a dozen times to only take out a couple of words each time. It was only when it came crunch time as the deadline approached that I really started slashing away at the word count to get it to a more reasonable length. Again, this was kind of disappointing to me, and I feel as though the result may feel a bit shallow as a result, but that’s the nature of adhering to a time constraint.

The filming part I actually loved though, as this mixes well with my background in performance and acting so that was probably the most fun.

The second most fun part - that I wasn’t expecting- was the editing process. I actually quite enjoyed lining up all the additional clips to align with the dialogue and cutting down the footage whenever I paused to make it sound smoother. The tinkering and playing around part of the process engaged me more than expected.

Thus, even though the content may have been a bit shallow compared to what it used to be, I was really happy with the final product as the filming and editing went well. It actually inspired me to potentially make more of this kind of content for my own personal projects as there were a lot of things that I would’ve love to have included but couldn’t due to the time constraints.

Some areas that I could’ve improved on are as follows;

The initial script should’ve been shorter from the start. As mentioned earlier, I constantly added ideas to it since the assignment was announced, so when it came time to finally sit down and finalize the script it was way too long, and I consequently spent most of my time cutting it down. This resulted in more breadth than depth than I would’ve liked, and next time I’d focus on fewer points and unpack them more. The issue is that I had become attached to all the ideas I’d written, so I couldn’t remove enough. And I’m still somewhat annoyed by the points ideas that I did have to remove. Going forward I’ll try and start with a select few points and expand on them, rather than having kids and shortening them all.

Another area that could’ve been improved on for the script is the style of writing used. I found that when I wrote the initial script, I just wound up writing an essay, which sounded very robotic and unauthentic when being read out to the camera. I found that writing the script while saying each line out loud did wonders in creating something that sounded more natural. Next time I’ll use this approach from the start, as this is something I found out towards the end and would’ve saved me a bunch of time had I implemented it from the very beginning.

Editing- I’m quite happy with the editing I did but would’ve loved to add a backing track for the dialogue -as it can sound quite eerie talking against pure silence - and maybe a cool song at the beginning and end. I also would’ve played around with text in the videos for headers to add more structure. In the end, I decided to leave these elements as we aren’t being graded on the editing, but I’d still like to learn those skills for my own personal gain.

Even with the limited editing I did on this video, I spent ages tweaking all the additional clips to align exactly with the points being made through the audio. And I honestly loved it, even if it was time-consuming. I have to say that this project probably stressed me out the most but it was also the most enjoyable

So it’s something I can look into for future video-based projects, whether for this course or just personal enjoyment.

The equipment used was also very basic and I would love to have been able to use a proper microphone and a decent camera. For this, the only equipment used was a phone stand, with my phone’s selfie camera being the main camera. Again, we’re not being graded on this, but as a personal improvement for future video based projects, I’d love to have proper crisp audio and video. Of the two of these I’d say audio is the most important, so I might invest in a reasonably priced microphone down the road. The lighting also could've been improved, and I’ve seen decently priced ring lights that would enhance the lighting dramatically, so maybe one of those too. The iPhone camera quality is good enough that it doesn’t justify spending large sums of money on a high quality videocamera, so this would definitely be last on the priority list.

All in all, this project was an interesting introduction to the world of vlogging that - while stressing me out a tad - has inspired me to potentially do something more like this further on in the degree or in my personal life. Without the same level of restriction, or having a better understanding of what to do script-wise, it would be a lot less stressful and time-consuming so I’d be able to spend more time having fun with the filming and editing, which were easily the best parts of this project.

TLDR; I had fun with this one but wish it could’ve been longer. Irony

Here’s the final product! - https://youtu.be/5YruZeokUGI

#ctec502

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imaginesoverreality · 7 years ago

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Let Me Prove It To You - Let Me Show You Part 3

Author’s Notes: I’ve been having a pretty shitty week, so I created a world where pretty men like Roman make life better by praising you and giving you lots of orgasms. Also, thank you so much for all the support and kind words about parts 1 and 2, I really appreciate it! There may be a part 4? I got more ideas.

Word Count: 2,888 (sorry it’s so much shorter than last time, I didn’t have a lot of free time this week).

Warnings: Smut. I mean have we seen Roman Godfrey/ Bill Skarsgard?? He deserves all the smut he can get! Also grammar mistakes, cause I’m human.

Part One: Let Me Show You

Part Two: Put on a Show for Me

It was a backhanded comment, something most people would overlook and laugh off, but Roman couldn’t let it slide. He hated anytime you put yourself down. He could feel his blood boil in his veins out of anger because to him, you were the only part of his life that was good and wholesome. Being with you made him proud of the man he was for the first time in his whole life. It was unfathomable to him that you could somehow see the goodness in him and not be able to see it in yourself.

Roman was standing by the window in his office at home, going over the presentation he was going to have to suffer through the next day, when you came in. He looked up from his file, his eyes slowly gazing up the length of your legs, to the bottom of your tight black pencil skirt, that stopped midthigh, dragging along the flowy silk top that showcased your cleave tastefully, and then to your beautiful face. Your hair slicked back to the messy bun with wisp pieces falling down effortlessly. A vision of you as a sexy teacher or librarian had him biting his lips. You plopped your stuff down on one of the armchairs by the door and made your way over to him. Taking your hair down in a huff of annoyance at the day’s events. The billionaire watched your every step as your black leather pumps clicked against the hardwood.

“Well, I fucked up yet another job interview. Maybe I’m destined to work minimum wage for the rest of my life” you declared, flopping down ungracefully in the chair at his desk. You spun around to face him. He was leaning against the glass like a god, hair slicked back and sporting a dark purple dress shirt, black vest, and pressed slacks, despite working at home. Slowly, Roman closed the yellow manila folder and gave you his full attention. “Who knows, maybe one day I’ll win waitress of the year! Most fries served in a single hour! You think I’d still look good in that skirt once my legs get all wrinkly?” you teased, lifting your legs up and pretending to give them a good look. Roman scoffed, shaking his head and telling you to knock it off.

“You’re the smartest person I know. Anyone with half a brain can see that.” He turned back to his file and proceeded to continue his work. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, and what good has that gotten me,” you mumbled under your breath. The tone of your voice made Roman realize he was finished with the files and that you were pressing task at hand. You sat there, not paying the young CEO very much attention, instead envisioning yourself at a desk like this one at your own company. Calling the shots, walking down the street with your head held high, knowing that you earned everything you had and that your hard work and determination got you there. Roman moved in front of you, leaning down and resting both hands on the arms of the chair so he was eye level with you, which snapped you out of your daydreams.

“You need to believe me. You’ll get the job. All those dreams you told me about will come true.” His big green eyes that you love didn’t blink once. He tried desperately to be a source of encouragement for you. Roman didn’t work to get where he was and he was paying for that now. Having to work twice as hard as everyone just to understand what the board members were talking about, trying to understand the financial statements that everyone thought he was too dumb to read. But he knew you could make it because you had put in the work while he was busy being a playboy. However, the mocking smile you sported was starting to wear down his patience. You rolled your eyes at him and laughed. “Oh Roman, next you’re gonna say Prince Charming is going to burst through those doors and rescue me from this evil world. I know you bought me a ball gown and everything, but we have to get back to reality.” You pressed your hand on his chest so you could get up from the chair. But Roman wasn’t giving up that easily. His large hand took a hold of your shoulder and pushed you back down in the chair gently, but forcefully.

“You told me that you believed in me and my strength. Then believe me now. You’ll make it.” Roman whispered, searching your face to ensure you were listening to him. You shook your head, still not believing you deserved his belief in you. For one, you never did anything to deserve or earn it and you knew deep down that you weren’t good enough for him. “Roman, you’re wasting your time on me. Maybe Olivia was right, maybe you do deserve better”, you confessed defeatedly. “The type of woman you should be with is accomplished and beautiful. She’s someone worthy enough to stand by your side. That woman isn’t coming home smelling like bacon grease every night.” You let out a breath of exhaustion and got up once more. This nagging voice has been in your head since the day he came into your room and gave you the most intense pleasure you had ever felt in your entire life. And the more he did for you, the more gifts and praises he showered on you, the louder the voice became. You wanted him, yes, but you also wanted him to move on. You were honored to be part of his list of conquests, but he deserved someone better. You pushed Roman out of your way and walked around Godfrey’s towering frame.

“That’s bullshit”, He growled.

Taking hold of your arm and freezing your movements, Roman pulled you back into his chest. You could almost feel the anger rumbling inside of him, his breathing was getting heavier. “Do you think I would have just any woman stand by my side in front of all those investors? Do you think I would spoil anyone with jewelry and French lingerie? Do you-“ he took a deep breath trying to calm his fury. His words started slipping through clenched teeth. “Do you really think I would give anything with two breasts and a pussy an orgasm cause they asked?” Roman’s large hands slid up your back, taking a strong grip of your hair and pulling your head up to face him, the strength of his hands made your heart race with excitement and he made sure he had your complete attention. “You’re mine. And if I own it, you speak about it with the utmost respect. Am I clear?”

Slowly, you nodded your head and Roman let go of your hair. Your eyes blinked rapidly in shock, but the throbbing in between your thighs shocked you even more than his words or actions. His strength, his dominance, and his claim over you, left you breathless. Furthermore, you had never seen him this angry before. Yeah, you’d see him make a snide remark at Olivia from time to time, but the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed should make fear run down your spine. But instead, he just left you breathless. Deep in your heart, you knew the brunette would never hurt you, no matter how strong his build was.

Roman started pacing back and forth. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a few quick puffs before putting on the ashtray on the windowsill behind him. It was still lit, the red tip leaked smoke as its owner abandoned it to his thoughts. You weren’t sure if you should stay or not, so you opted to take your stuff and go. As you started to walk away, Roman took a quick glance at you, then back at his desk, before haphazardly pushing everything onto the floor. Important documents, books, and random desk supplies came crashing down, making you freeze midstep and jump out of nervousness.

“Get over here” he pointed to the spot in front of him, breathing heavily. You could feel his eyes on the back of your head as you turned on your heel. He ran his smooth hands through his hair, messing up the nearly perfect cut, as he watched you approach him. Once you two were inches apart, he took hold of your face and claimed your lips. He moved roughly, biting at your lips and pressing his body against yours. You were so engrossed with the efforts his lips to leave a bruise on your own, that you didn’t even notice him unbuttoning his vest and shirt, ridding himself of the garments. He broke the kiss, leaving you heaving against his desk, as he leaned over to make sure he cleared the last few items from its glass surface. And when he returned his attention back to you, he had no problems lifting you onto the desk’s edge and wrapping your legs around his waist. Once again, he leaned down to capture your lips, slipping his fingers through the strands of your hair and pulling your head up to his level. Roman’s unoccupied hand slid down to the bottom of your shirt to lift the garment free from the skirt’s constraints and pulling it over your head, unfortunately breaking the kiss once again. In seconds he moved to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess.

“You don’t think you deserve me? Baby, do you even know how wrong you are?” His body moved so fluidly against yours as he took hold of neck giving him better access to kiss its smooth skin once more. “I’ll prove it. Would you like that sweetheart? Would you like me to prove how much I want you?” he whispered, teasingly, in your ear. Roman’s hands graze up your thighs under your skirt, rubbing circles with his thumbs, before taking hold of your damp panties and guiding them down the length of your legs, making sure your heels were undisturbed. Once freed, he held the dampened piece of lace fabric in his hand, marveling at it, before looking back at you.

“You know,” he started to confess his eyes focused intently on the darkened spot, “after that night at the ball, I kept those panties I gave you. I could smell you on them for days. It would get me so hard. Seeing you around town, knowing that when I got home at night I would jack off to the smell of you. The proof of how much you wanted me.” You moaned at his words, he bit his lips as his hands pried your legs open as far as they would go under the limitations of the skirt. A single finger slipped inside you, not all the way, but enough for the tycoon to feel his affects on you. Your breath hitched as he pushed it a little further before letting it slip out. He grazed the finger across his swollen pink lips before slipping it completely in his mouth. He let his eyes close momentarily savoring your taste before looking up at you through his lashes.

“And now I get to taste it from the source”

Mouth open wide, and chest heaving, you groaned at the sight before you. If Roman didn’t touch you soon, you might just cum from witnessing his sinful behaviors. Smoothly, his fingers reached behind you and took hold of the skirt’s zipper, nothing but the sound of it coming undone and heavy breathing could be heard echoing off the dark grey walls. You lifted yourself from the table, allowing him to rid you of the garment before he fell to his knees before you. Like a knight indebted to his queen, Roman was more than willing to satisfy any and all of your desires. His large hands slowly slid up your calf, pausing at your knew to give each one a soft kiss, before continuing up your thigh. He pried your legs open easily and placed one of your legs over his broad shoulder. You let out a soft hiss as he bit the soft skin of your thigh, leaving a small indentation that he soothed quickly with his tongue.

The sight before you was something you prayed you would never forget. Roman Godfrey, the most powerful man in Hemlock Grove, on his knees looking up at you. His sturdy frame that usually towered and intimidated all who stood by him, was now in service to you. Large green eyes stared up at you, watching you as he let his broad tongue glide over your opening before moving upwards towards your clit. Circling the swollen nub and giving it an open kiss. A shiver ran through you as you realized that he was warming you up and you were already tingling all over. And with no more reservations, Roman held both your legs open and buried his face between them. Sucking your clit between his swollen lips, he began alternating to broad strokes of his tongue. Instinctually, your legs started quaking around his head and the heel of your pumps began to dig angry red marks into his shoulders. Roman let out a satisfied moan before releasing you from his mouth. He watched you for a second, head thrown back in pleasure and grasping at your lace covered cleavage.

“Take it off. And open those pretty lips” he ordered. You two moved in unison. He sat up higher so two fingers could slip easily into your mouth, as you reached behind you and freed yourself from the bra’s constraint. He pulled his fingers out and drew small circles around your opening, smearing your arousal around in tight circles. He kept circling into you met his gaze, his green eyes locked onto yours. He wanted to watch you as he slipped inside. And the sight he was greeted with was better than he fantasized. The long digits slipped inside causing your eyes rolled back in ecstasy and your mouth to fall open.

“Fuck, Roman” you praised. He was able to reach your sweetest spot in one thrust of his fingers. The Godfrey smiled up at you before returning those gorgeous pink lips to those bundle of nerves he was so fond of. Once he curved his fingers, your orgasm was now only seconds away. “Roman, I can’t hold it,” you warned him, turning your head back and forth. Your fingers took firm hold of his hair, ensuring he stayed anchored at your most tender spot. He groaned, encouraging to pull at it harder. Before you knew it, your thighs were shaking, your heart was racing, so fast you could hear it in your head, and you started clenching around his fingers. Something else was building up inside you that you weren’t familiar with, but Roman refused to let up. You made a soft whine that was caught off by your body’s attempt to breathe, but his fingers stayed curved, manipulating the nerves inside of you.

And then it hit you. Your thighs snapped closed around Roman’s head and your heels dug so deep into his shoulder that he was convinced you drew blood, but he didn’t give a fuck about that. No, what he cared about is the burst of wetness that coated his finger and lips. All he thought about for days was seeing if it was possible to make you cum so hard that he would be able to taste you all over him. He lifted himself up from the floor to take your still quivering body into his arms. You convulsed a few more times as he circled your clit once more and then released you. He continued to hold you until you came down from your high. The billionaire’s heart was racing out of his chest, but he ignored his desires in order to make sure you were ok. Once you’re breathing was somewhat normalized, Roman lifted your chin so you could look at him. His green eyes were blown with arousal and the evidence of how much he wanted you was poking into your stomach. Both your legs were still wrapped around his naked hips and your arms circled around his neck so he could kiss you deeply. You leased Roman from your lips’ hold and he opted to rest his forehead on yours.

“Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to do that? God, there are so many things I want to do to you, for you.” He breathed out. “Please let me” he looked down at the floor, almost ashamed that he was begging. You nodded in agreement, making Roman look up with a smile. You were done letting everyone else dictate who you should and should not be with. This man wanted you so badly it hurt. The evidence was written all over his face and his body and you were tired of denying his, and your, affections. So with a big sinful smirk, you took hold of him through his slacks, making his eyes close and his jaw go slack in pleasure, you quipped an eyebrow and whispered teasingly,

“I’m your’s, arent I?”

#roman godfrey #Roman Godfrey smut #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård imagine #bill skarsgard smut #hemlock grove #hemlock grove smut #hemlock grove imagines #my writing

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hollywoodjuliorivas · 5 years ago

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The evil of the Republican Party’s position on climate science is well known, but denial is entrenched in progressive politics, too, or at least in its rhetoric. The Green New Deal, the blueprint for some of the most substantial proposals put forth on the issue, is still framed as our last chance to avert catastrophe and save the planet, by way of gargantuan renewable-energy projects. Many of the groups that support those proposals deploy the language of “stopping” climate change, or imply that there’s still time to prevent it. Unlike the political right, the left prides itself on listening to climate scientists, who do indeed allow that catastrophe is theoretically avertable. But not everyone seems to be listening carefully. The stress falls on the word theoretically.

Our atmosphere and oceans can absorb only so much heat before climate change, intensified by various feedback loops, spins completely out of control. The consensus among scientists and policy-makers is that we’ll pass this point of no return if the global mean temperature rises by more than two degrees Celsius (maybe a little more, but also maybe a little less). The I.P.C.C.—the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change—tells us that, to limit the rise to less than two degrees, we not only need to reverse the trend of the past three decades. We need to approach zero net emissions, globally, in the next three decades.

As a non-scientist, I do my own kind of modelling. I run various future scenarios through my brain, apply the constraints of human psychology and political reality, take note of the relentless rise in global energy consumption (thus far, the carbon savings provided by renewable energy have been more than offset by consumer demand), and count the scenarios in which collective action averts catastrophe. The scenarios, which I draw from the prescriptions of policy-makers and activists, share certain necessary conditions.