one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.
the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.
like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.
but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.
so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.
i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?
but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?
sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?
and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.
nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.
the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!
and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.
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This is based off of that one tiktok from @sorruna where it’s the audio from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse.
——
Dick Grayson was a sneaky, intelligent little shit.
He was also dumb. These things are not mutually exclusive.
To this day, one of his best kept secrets- one of the many, many that he had now- was something he’d take to his grave.
Or to Jason’s grave, at least.
Dick sat down and began telling the story to ears that would never truly hear it.
——
Batman’s voice rumbled behind him as Dick, in his Robin suit, stood blankly on top of a roof.
“I know you snuck out last night, Robin.”
Dick froze, train of thought about his dinner derailed. Holy busted, Batman! Quick! Play dumb!
“Who’s Robin?” He asked, the years of performing in front of a large crowd coming to save his ass.
Not that dumb!
Batman sent him a dry look, reprimand already poised on his lips. Dick, however, was nothing but a good performer. Nay, a dedicated performer.
Quick! Do something out of character! He shouted at himself, panicking visibly. He stepped backwards, an idea appearing in his head. In his defense, it sounded like an amazing idea at the time. He had no idea it would blow up into a Justice League issue. If he had known… Dick would have lied better, probably. There was no way he was going to let B bench him for weeks!
“Who the fuck are you?!” He yelped. Dick apologized mentally to Alfred and his parents. Batman paused, stunned.
“That’s my question. Who are you?!” Bruce asked, immediately hostile. His son doesn’t curse. Well, not in any normal way anyways. Dick quickly backpedaled by yelling at him with a heavy Vlax dialect, missing his parents terribly as he screamed stranger danger in rudimentary Romany. After this, he was going to have to convince Bruce to get him a language tutor. He refused to forget one of the only ties he had left to his parents.
“Wait, wait- you’re my son.” Bruce replied back, in perfect Romany. He looked more convinced but still skeptical.
“My dad is a circus performer! Not a flying rat!” Dick screeched back. He couldn’t help but feel touched about Bruce seeing him like a son.
“Oy! Keep it down out there, you assholes! Some of us like our sleep, damn!” A random Gothamite screamed out of their window.
“Yo, shut the fuck up! The vigilantes are helping to keep the rent low, motherfucker!” Another Gothamite shouted back.
….
Needless to say, Bruce quickly brought Dick back to the cave- with precautions to make sure he didn’t figure out where the Cave was if Dick was actually someone else.
——
“You would have loved it, Little Wing. B was running around like a headless chicken. The memory loss protocol was actually made because of me, you know.” Dick chuckled, sniffling as he talked to the carved gravestone.
It did not reply.
——
The blood tests came back. Yeppers, Dick sarcastically thought, who woulda thought I’m me?
Reinforcements were called in.
Meaning, Batgirl.
“Watch him while I contact Justice League Dark.”
“You think it’s magic?” Barbara asked.
“Yes. There was no one else near our vicinity that could affect Dick like this. He has no head wounds.”
“Eesh. Okay, go. I’ll watch him.”
Bruce disappeared in his zeta tube, looking harried. So, to everyone that’s not a Bat, he looked absolutely terrifying.
“What did you get yourself into now, Boy Wonder?” Barbara sighed. Dick was careful to keep any signs of recognition out of his face.
“Stop calling me that! Where are my parents?!” He asked back. Barbara coughed and looked uncomfortably away.
That’s right, Babs. I’m pulling out the orphan card. Feel bad. Dick hid his feral grin.
“They’re… uh, busy.” Busy being dead, Barbara thought, immediately wincing at her own thoughts. Apparently, Dick thought the excuse was lame too, and he sent her an incredulous look.
“Would you like refreshments, Master Dick?”
“What?”
Alfred held out some cookies on a platter, giving Babs a quelling look as she tried to reach for his share.
“Oh, wow, these are really good!” Dick said as he shoveled cookies into his mouth. He tried to replicate the reaction he had when he tried these for the first time, and from Alfred’s satisfied look, Dick nailed it.
——
“Robin doesn’t remember who he is.” Batman rumbled as he all but dragged Zatanna and Constantine by the scuff of their jackets towards the zeta tubes.
“Hey, wait-”
“We have no time.” Batman snarled, tossing the two magic users into the zeta. He punched in the destination.
When they got there, he glared at the two magic users until they got into the cave.
“Damn, Bats. Really living up to your name, huh?”
“Not bad,” Zatanna said as she looked around.
“Robin,” Batman- Bruce- reminded them. He did a quick glance over to check on his kids, and found them satisfactorily uninjured. Though, Barbara was looking worse for wear. Bruce quickly found out why as she stalked to him.
“You deal with him.” She muttered. “I’m going home.”
Bruce blinked and nodded. “Get home safe.”
Zatanna and Constantine followed Batman as he walked towards Robin. It was odd to see the normally laughing child frown.
“It’s you! The kidnapper! Where are my parents?!”
Bruce winced which, for him, was akin to a full body flinch and recoil. No wonder Barbara was so tired.
“Fix it.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Batsy.” Constantine grumbled.
“Well help, Batman. Though… I’m not sure if he should be doing that.”
Bruce sharply turned his head back to where Dick was. Emphasis on was. Because now, he’s halfway up the giant dinosaur the Robin had insisted they keep.
“Robin, get down from there!”
“Stranger Danger!” Dick hollered back.
Batman- Bruce Wayne- sighed.
“That’s high level magic,” Zatanna hummed. “I can’t feel anything, but I know for sure that he won’t die. Magic like that either dissipates naturally or…”
“Lasts forever,” Constantine finished.
Bruce groaned, shooting off a grappling line and swooping upwards to catch Dick as he fell from the giant dinosaur.
——
“I pretended to get my memories back later,” Dick chuckled. “And pretended to forget the whole thing. Bruce was so relieved that I stopped knocking things over and trying to do cartwheels in high places that he totally forgot I snuck out.”
Dick patted the headstone.
“But between you and me? I’m pretty sure Alfred knew. I think B pissed him off that week.”
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