LIGHTSTRUCK

Aubrey Butterworth has a new best friend. But the fourteen year old is keeping her a secret. The friend’s name is Ko. She’s a lot older, fast, funny, incredibly strong; she’s what humans would call “gifted.”   Oh, she also has dazzlingly luminous wings that span fourteen feet and she speaks directly into Aubrey’s mind. 

YA speculative fiction, sci-fi and fantasy, magical realism, urban fantasy.

 A coming-of-age story, a deep-sea adventure, a search for the truth, and a hero’s quest to turn the world upside down—as Aubrey once says,  “When I grow up I’m going to change the world.”  Not that he would have ever imagined the dangerous adventure he would soon be cast into. 

“Lightstruck” for YA fans searching for something slightly different takes the reader to an entirely new world, right under our noses, sort of.       

Indeed Aubrey Butterworth has a secret. But how could he know of the arcane society that’s been hunting his new friend for generations, and that they are already watching his every move? 

 

SNEEK PEEK INSIDE THE BOOK

LIGHTSTRUCK

Copyright 2021 by David Marsh

PROLOGUE

When he was eight or nine, he once told his mom, “when I grow up I’m going to change the world.” Not that Mom desired to dampen his spirit or enthusiasm, she just desired Aubrey to strive for real possibilities.

Be a doctor. A lawyer. The president. 

So on the morning of that fateful midsummer day, if someone told Aubrey: hey, kid, you  are about to change the world; really you are; you’re about to turn the world upside down, spin it on its heels and change humanity forever, he’d have laughed or scoffed or furrowed his brow. 

 You can rule the world but you cannot really change it. Mom’s argument: Did Galileo, the original astronomer and the father of modern science, really change the world? Did Newton’s understanding of gravitation and motion alter the way human beings live? Did Darwin, Einstein,  even Hitler—did any of them everlastingly change the world? No, because knowledge is not change, it’s growth, and even the cruel and lopsided eventually yield and all is level again.

Change the world, huh! Little old Aubrey! Well, not that little, thirteen-year-old chubby faced Aubrey whose mop of ginger hair spiked northward as if electrically charged however he combed it, because, well, what’s the point of combing? Nothing-all-that-special-Aubrey was going to change the world? Right! It would be a snake oil salesman saying it and Aubrey would know that such braggadocio couldn’t even for a half-second be true.

 And he would have been wrong.  

And if the same snake oil salesman predicted, today you will die, but don’t worry, you’ll be right back again— well, surely that would be even more absurd! Right?     

But by mid afternoon, as the sky darkened and the ocean rumbled, the making of the hypothetical snake oil salesman’s prediction began to thread a realistic path. 

-1-

Death

The thunder was deafening, as loud as he’d ever heard. Aubrey and his sister stood inside the fetid  crabbers’ cave entrance, swilling tidewater tugging at their shins, his sister’s fingers nervously digging into his forearm, her long hair, teeshirt, and khakis sodden. At least they was out of the rain.  Mute lightning fissured the sky once again, way across the ocean.  Aubrey tried to smile, as if he was enjoying it. But the Oregon sky was getting darker by the second, and the sea was turning angry, nothing like the glassy pond it had been when they’d hiked down to the forbidden beach two hours ago. He felt a knot growing in the pit of his stomach. They shouldn’t be there.  It was sneaky. Grandma had forbidden them. But Grandma had also kept them cooped up for a month, ever since Mom’s funeral. She had guarded their movements with a hawk’s eye, curbing them from going anywhere and doing anything. Didn’t she know you can’t tell anyone how to grieve? 

“We have to head back! Now!” Autumn’s voice echoed eerily around the cave.   She wiped a strand of wet hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand.   

“In this rain?” Aubrey flicked on the flashlight app on his iPhone, thinking, she’s right!  She’s so very right! But also thinking it’s going to blow over, any minute now. Safer in the cave.  He aimed his iPhone’s light up at the crusty cave ceiling, then steadily around the cave—at least as big as the church hall back in Oxnard, California.  Only the church wasn’t a pool of black water and it didn’t have a foul dead fish smell. “It’s just a burst cloud.”

“How do you know?” Autumn shook her head, raindrops flying off her. She shivered involuntarily, her anxious eyes roaming the slimy onyx walls that stretched deep into the darkness.  The abandoned rowboat that they’d discovered in a rock pool was bobbing up and down a few feet away.  “If we hadn’t spent an hour digging out your crappy rowboat,” she quipped.   

“But we did, Autumn. And you thought it was a good idea dragging it here—”

“You said the forecast was the best ever. I would never have—”

—Blinding white light slammed into the cave. He caught Autumn’s jaw dropping; he knew her heart had to be skipping in utter terror as lightning shadows resembling hunchbacked goblins leapt out of the far wall, then disappeared.

 “Aubrey! This is one of Grandma’s storms! We have to run for it!” 

 He shook his head, forcing another grin, for her sake.  “You really want to head back in this?” The rain out there was roaring even louder than the surf.  But rain was unlikely to kill them.  Lightning however— “We’re safe in here, safer than out there.”

 “What if the water keeps rising?” Her nod to him was knowing. 

“Then we’ll just have to book it!” Her eyes shone like pools of lapis lazuli as he inadvertently brushed his phone’s flashlight beam over her face.  By appearance, no one pegged them as siblings. At twelve, she was slender,  tall for her age, shimmering chestnut hair to the small of her back, and strikingly pretty, everyone said. Contrast that with him, fifteen months older and as ordinary as a plain doughnut—his own opinion, not hers.  “Hey…no water.” His flashlight beam was on the floor of the rowboat. 

“So.”  

“Well, at least if we have to…if the water rises.”

“Ride out on it? Are you—arghhh!” She screamed—maybe he did too—because the cave was exploding— a wipeout of light so harsh he couldn’t see anything, the loudest simultaneous thunderclap burrowing through the soles of his feet into his flesh and bones, all the way to his eardrums, weakening the security of his bladder. He felt his sister’s hand latching onto his forearm again,  her fingers digging deep into his flesh.  “We’re not safe in here!”    

“It’s okay. We are. It’s safe.” The thunder was still rolling and rumbling, so were his ears. He tapped her hand, affectionately, doing his best to ignore her fingernails digging into him.  

“Aubrey…we have to make a run for it! I think I’ve peed my pants.”

He didn’t tell her that she wasn’t alone in that regard. His mind flashed to Grandma’s tales of snap-of-the-finger killer storms. But surely the cave was safer than on the exposed beach or the bluff’s ridge or in the trees at Ranger’s Forest which they’d have to race back through to get home.  “I think it’s going to blow over. I do. I think we wait five. If it doesn’t, then yeah, we’ll   go like crazy. Okay?” 

Biting her lip nervously, his sister nodded in agreement, gradually releasing his arm, drawing from him a discreet exhale of relief. 

Claws of lightning snaked open the sky once again.  But the thunder that followed wasn’t nearly so loud; it was like a bed sheet ripping slowly. Only the rain kept dumping, hissing, glassy, never-ending sheets. Aubrey couldn’t even see the two offshore sea stacks—the killer pillars, a half mile from the beach. Why oh why was the forecast so screwed up?  Why oh why did he twist Autumn’s arm into this adventure?  It’s just that Grandma had them so cooped up. Mourning was one thing, prison another. But deep down in his gut he knew that  if it hadn’t been for Grandma’s kindness, they’d have been raffled off into foster care.  Yes, she’d looked scary as all hell, riding her boosted wheelchair into the facility in Oxnard, California, where they’d been holed up for a week, dressed head to toe in black, a complete stranger then, and yes he’d wondered were they being rescued or captured, but the truth was Grandma was, well,  just Grandma.  

“Aubrey, it’s up to my knees.”

Aubrey chewed on his lip, although his decision didn’t need further deliberation.  “Okay, we’re going to book it, fast as you can!” He reached for her hand, when he spied a wave,  almost on the beach, taller than anything he’d seen all afternoon,  much taller, a tall green boiling monster!  “Hold onto me!” He cried, taking a tighter hold of Autumn’s hand.  He tried to wade with her to the left wall but he felt her hand twisting out of his grip. He glimpsed her eyes opening wide in alarm.   

“Aubrey!” she shrieked, pulling away from him, paddling her arms, paddling furiously.

With a deafening roar, the wave swamped Aubrey, bullish water up to his waist, then chest, then neck. He tried to keep his feet planted on the sandy floor, but he was twisted and grabbed viciously, relentlessly,  icy bubbles suddenly snapping at his ears and nostrils. He was underwater, frigidly cold, like needles stabbing him all over. Exploding back to the surface, his eyes shot to his sister, one second hanging onto the side of the rowboat, then colliding with the cave’s back wall.  Electricity jolted his elbow, his arm slamming into the side of an object,  his fingers brushing over something muddy, a stalagmite maybe. He grabbed whatever it was, drove his fingers into the muck, desperately drawing his feet back onto the sandy floor. “Autumn!” He saw her swinging her leg over the boat’s gunwale, rolling onto the boat, out of his sight.  “Autumn, get off the boat!” He shrieked. “Get off now!”

Autumn’s face rose over the rim, her eyes glazed in shock. Did she not know the boat was locked in the freak wave’s retreat? “Jump!” He yelled. “Jump!” He drove his legs against the churning current, knowing he must pull his sister off the rowboat before she raced past him, but as he lunged, the boat pitched and his fingertips bounced off the side! And just like that Autumn was outside the cave!  “Autumn!”  He waded furiously through the entrance, foamy seawater up to his chest, then neck, then his feet were no longer touching sand.  “Jump! Jump!”  he cried, swallowing seawater.  She was half-standing up in the boat, barely discernible in the thrashing rain.

“Go back!” She shouted.  “It’s a rip! It’s going to push me back in!” 

“No, get off the boat now!”  How quickly the ocean had changed, misty canyons running sideways, confused hills rising and dropping, colliding in explosions of whitewater.   “Autumn! Jump! Swim to me!” He was kicking with all his might, gulping salty breaths. Autumn was still twenty feet  away, engulfed in a fog of sea-spray, riding up a hill, then over it.  She looked like a mime artist, not even real.  A skinny fern frond was suddenly in her hand, skillfully plucked from the ocean. She tried to reach him with it. 

Not nearly close enough. 

 “Swim back to the beach!” She shouted. “It’s going to ride me back in!” 

“No, it’s not!  Jump!” A fog of fear began sneak into Aubrey’s consciousness. Only once in all his years had he ever felt such raw unmitigated fear, like a demon rising in his throat.  He and Autumn had been playing catch on the road, when Autumn tripped and hit her forehead on the curb. He’d never seen so much blood, running down the side of her face, onto her tee, onto the pavement. She was telling him not to worry, that it looked worse than it was. With her hand on the side of her face, blood gushing through her fingers, she was calm and he was freaking out. If he hadn’t been able to flag down a car and get rushed to the hospital, Autumn would not have survived. It wasn’t the blood loss, they said, it was the knock to the side of her head that caused her brain to swell to twice its normal size.  After that,  Mom surprised them with cell phones—think of them as EpiPens, she’d said, life savers, not mindless chatter boxes. 

 Life savers. Stay calm. Think smart. 

Up he went in the clutches of the swell, down into a black crater. He realized something anew was rising in his throat, then projectiling out of him. Sweeping the yucky stuff away from his chin and neck, he felt a resurgence of adrenalin pumping through his veins.  Thinking smart, he lowered his head, and pulled himself underwater, swimming with powerful breast strokes, for certain closing the gap. Only when he surfaced, his heart sank. He was no closer to Autumn. His throat was raw from bile acid, his stomach aching.  

He didn’t see the rising wall.  

Walloped from behind, an unfathomable heft bore down on him, like bricks and mortar driving him head over heals down,  hose-water blasting up his nostrils, salty venom ripping at his throat and eardrums, hissing foam smothering him, mummifying him.  He kicked furiously for the surface, but the surface wasn’t coming. Maybe he was heading the wrong way, kicking down instead of up. Which was up?  Where was the surface? Hislungs were screaming! He couldn’t hold on any longer!

No!  Hisbrain screamed!

 A morsel of air in the foam!

No!      

Have to!

***

Autumn’s heart had stopped beating, held in stasis, waiting, hoping. Thirty seconds had passed, at least thirty seconds since Aubrey had vanished from her sight. Even her mother’s passing hadn’t created such a heavy emptiness. He was gone! She had witnessed her brother’s death!  She broke into an uncontrollable wail but even that was snatched from her, drowned out by the howl of the storm and the shriek of the mighty ocean driving her out to sea. It dawned on her that her fate was also sealed, soon to follow her brother, alone and— 

 Aubrey? 

“Aubrey!” She cried.  “Aubrey!”  Alive!  Somehow he’d gotten ahead of her, only few feet away, treading water, his arms feeble in attempt. How much more could he endure? She attempted to reach him with the flimsy frond only it was snatched out of her grasp by the jealous sea. She leaned over the boat’s gunwale, her fingertips almost touching his fingertips, when she spied two ghostly figures staring at her! The bigger ghost, black and glistening, reached for her. She shrieked,  recoiling from the specter as a blur of barnacles skidded away from her at the last moment—like a false roller coaster scare, an explosion of seawater slamming into her face.  “Aubrey! Aubrey!”  He’d been pulled by the same sideways wave, away from the ghostly killer pillar sea stacks. Sliding onto her stomach, a weatherbeaten oarlock digging into her ribs, she reached for him.  “Grab me!” 

  “Back up!” Aubrey yelled, a scorch of seawater whipping his words back into his face. Ducking under her arm, his placed his hand on the boat’s gunwale, a steadying purchase for  a moment, allowing his eyes to fall shut, coughing up a soup of bile, trying to shake off the blurriness in his mind.  

“Grab me! I’ll pull you up!”  She cried.

“No! You’ll capsize! Stay low! Get to the bow!”   

Aubrey knew he needed the right wave, the perfect wave. Exhausted and frozen, every bone in his body stiff and aching, he knew he had but one shot at it. 

Capitalism – I’m not an expert

Capitalism. Socialism. Mixed Economy.  Three different economic/political systems. For the masses they conjure epochal realities of various nations suffering or prospering.  Capitalism for most means free enterprise, while socialism means government decides who gets and who doesn’t.   How often have I heard: “There isn’t a better system than Capitalism.” “I’m proud to be a Capitalist even though I live paycheck to paycheck” Perhaps, it could even be you saying it. It used to be me. 

The longer I live, the more I witness poverty, strife, bankruptcies due to medical nightmares, sudden job loss, individual bad luck, bad timing, a silly mistake, I’ve grown to  realize that Capitalism only works for the richest of society who can weather the harshest of circumstances. But what’s better than Capitalism? Is there anything better?  I’ll give you a hint. It’s definitely not Socialism.    

 I’m not an expert on political systems. I’m not one who believes government should have the power to dictate how much a person or corporation should make. But I do believe in fairness. I also believe in an old phrase: No man is an island.   

Let me talk about fairness. Who pays more at a car dealership, a person with good credit or a struggling waiter with so-so credit?  Who pays 29% bank card interest rates, millionaires or hard-on-their-luck Americans who sometimes use their cards for food, gas, and emergencies?  Who makes money on the stock market, people who can afford to gamble, or a single mom who can barely get by with a minimum wage paycheck? As a percentage who pays more tax, the average millionaire or the average factory worker?

Only obstinance, a head in the sand would deduce a different reality: Capitalism favors the wealthy and wealthy minded. But what’s wrong with that? If you’re not wealthy, play by the rules, get into the system, and profit by it. Really?

What about the hand you are dealt? Child of a middle-class family / child of a convicted drug felon living in squalor. Rich kid who goes to a good school, poor kid who barely gets an education.  Note: I’m not suggesting that poor kids cannot receive a good education anymore than I’m suggesting that rich kids get the best education. 

Again, I’m not an expert on these things but I’ve lived for six decades and have seen the gulf between the haves and have nots grow exponentially.  I’m certain our inequitable taxation system is part of the problem. I’m also certain that without regulatory mechanisms wealth hoarding will continue to plague our society.  

 “I started the business! It was my brainwave! My sacrifice!” The business owner who says this is correct.  But could the business have grown without employees? 

No man is an island, right — imagine a society that lived by this;  Imagine a society that looked poverty in the eye and said “I cannot allow this.” Imagine a society where you couldn’t find a business with 50 or more employees that didn’t have a profit sharing plan.  Imagine: a livable wage as an anachronism, welfare an instrument for the needy rather than a strain on the economy.  Is this a Utopian pipe dream?   

Factually, profit sharing already works well in many companies. I keep hearing the argument against livable wages but in the fifties and sixties wages were indeed livable; one working person in the family earned enough for a mortgage, food, clothes, car, and for the family to live well. How about taxes? Specifically, is it possible for to have a fair taxation system?  I’m absolutely convinced that income tax prevents economic honesty. Too many individuals, corporations, partnerships, dodge, evade and avoid income tax. The main problem with income tax is the tax forms; they’re too easy to rig, especially if you have a high-priced accountant preparing the forms. The solution: do away with it. Instead adopt a very comprehensive usage tax system. 

With a usage tax everything purchased, rented, invested into, would be taxed, hopefully nominally. You wouldn’t be able to avoid the tax, dodge it, right it off or defer it. You still might be able to defraud the government by selling something at a pretend lower price but overall Usage is a fair taxation system that would cause corporations, super-corporations, individuals, investors to pay a fair share. No deductions. No tax free. Perhaps waivers or rebates for the needy. Unfortunately, the system might be a daunting endeavor to implement. 

Wall Street. The lynchpin of American Capitalism—I believe it needs a massive redo. While investing for a rainy day, saving for retirement, and planning your kids school days are noble practices that must be kept alive, Wall Street and the banks have been given a free range to muck up peoples lives for too long.  

Back to my opening statement: Capitalism. Socialism. Mixed Economy!  Adam Smith who invented Capitalism believed in a free trading market that would benefit all; I don’t believe he ever imagined his idea would become the benchmark of greed. Karl Marx believed that Capitalism would eventually destruct. But his vision of equality that he termed Socialism was tunneled; he couldn’t see the coming doldrum that would spread across his nation like an inky cloud suffocating the people’s innovation and drive. Socialism has never worked.  Those that think of Sweden and Norway are misguided—they are not Socialist nations. Social democratic theorist Eduard Bernstein who termed the phrase Mixed Economy, believed that a system of public and private enterprise working cooperatively was the way to go, fearing that ultimately Capitalism would reshape itself into Socialism. Is he right?

But in some ways these systems are just names. The Montagues and Capulets in Shakespeare’s play were warring families who hated each other, and thus caused the death of lovers Romeo and Juliet.   It’s not the name is it? It’s what the bigwigs in charge do! And they call it a name.  

Entrepreneurism is nowhere to be found as a political /economic system. But it sounds good to me. Investmentism? No such word. But it kind of befits the Capitalism we see in America today. If you have the money to invest and you do, you’ll make money and your money will make money. Forget the rest. Survival of the fittest. Bla bla bla!

Maybe there really isn’t a better system than Capitalism.  Perhaps New Capitalism. After all, it’s not the name. It’s the policy.

But what do I know? As I said, I’m not an expert on these things. 

 

 

The Genesis Engine

The Genesis Engine is the 2nd volume of a YA trilogy that unfolds on two worlds, present day Earth and a planet known as M, as seventeen-year-old Jack Paige from Los Angeles California learns that he’s really Samdan, born on M, and destined to save both worlds from the grips of a sinister corporation.

While the first and third volume take place almost entirely on Earth present day,  “The Genesis Engine” is set on the planet M.

 

 

Movie review – “Room”

What do they say, better late than never? In the following case, maybe. I just watched the movie “Room” -2015 – starring Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay, a film that has won numerous awards including an Oscar for Brie Larson. I now see why there are so many average and even negative reviews. But first,  “Room” is an extremely well crafted movie. The subject matter is disturbing and unfolds deliberately, even slowly, as the two lead actors pull you into their bleak world. Larson plays Joy, an abducted woman—taken seven years prior, at seventeen. Now with a five-year old son named Jack, fathered by her abductor who still repeatedly rapes her, Joy and her son are imprisoned in one room, that houses a tub, toilet, stove, an old TV, and rodents on the floor. I’m not going into  elaborate story details here, as there are so many existing reviews that have covered this ad infinitum.  “Room” is structured as most feature films are, in three parts, however they are strangely time-alloted. The first parts deals with Joy and Jack living in squalor, and it’s very detailed. The second part deals with escape; and it provides the only nail-biting tense moments of the entire film.  But the movie then morphs into a drama of trashed lives, focusing heavily on guilt and shame. And oh boy, some of this stuff is really top-heavy. It’s one thing when your father can’t even glance at his grandson because he’s what, un-kosher, fathered by a rapist, a symbol of pain, or whatever, but when the mother/grandmother can’t hold her lip and engages in a vituperative row with her daughter —for God’s sake the poor girl’s only just got home— and then moments later a TV show host (think Diane Sawyer) interviews Joy and asks the most insensitive series of questions: “didn’t you think of giving up Jack when he was born?” the question’s purpose designed to promote Joy’s feelings of guilt, I just about couldn’t take any more. Come on, film makers, get real. The monster rapist would have just flushed the newborn down the lavatory.  These in-your- face contrivances consume the latter part of “Room.”  So on the whole, while there are excellent performances, phenomenal confinement scenes, and the last scene is poignant, what I just watched is a flawed film that was almost a masterpiece.

Global Warming hardly ever mentioned anymore

Front page news of the world’s troubled economy, gas and oil wars, middle east tensions, have all usurped our planet’s condition in terms of global importance. Some will argue that the global warming press coverage commonplace just five years ago wasn’t justified, that it was media hoopla. To believe that is akin to burying your head in the sand.  Global warming isn’t better than it was in 2007. It’s worse!  According to the Global Carbon Project, an international collaboration of scientists, in 2010 global emissions of carbon dioxide jumped by the largest amount on record. Yet for the most part, in 2012, global warming warnings continue to be tempered, distorted, and ignored. While the preponderance of the world’s scientific leaders believe that global warming threatens the existence of all life forms on this planet, skeptics continue to voice loud contrary opinions. Disproportionately, a large number of these skeptics are from the governing institutions of of the United States who continually ridicule international efforts to curb global warming.

Five years ago I posted an article relating to the contentions of global warming. I wrote the article after I had eavesdropped on a conversation at a coffee shop between two 20-somethings. The peak line for me went something like this.  “Global warming, yeah, yeah, global warming, keep it coming, it keeps me warm in Boston. I need it.”  For most of America, global warming is esoteric, overblown, false, no big deal, or catastrophic. If the conversation is serious, two core questions arise: Is it man made? Does it threaten our existence? The problem for the green movement is that science cannot completely agree, and thus the mission for a cleaner planet gets murky. The mission itself gets polluted.  If you’d like to read the article, it’s right here:

 God-given Commonsense view on Global Warming

David Marsh, April 6, 2007

LOS ANGELES, California – The deadly cyclone that tore through the island of Madagascar last month affecting more than 130,000 people was caused by global warming, claims a local scientist —

The BBC’s green bashing documentary “The Great Global Warming Swindle,” which aired last month in Great Britain is now causing a flash storm in the United States —

The divisive debate on global warming is one of the most puzzling and mind boggling I’ve experienced. Temperature anomalies aside, from my eyes, our world does not look even remotely as clean and lovely as it did 30 years ago. I remember swimming in the glorious French Mediterranean when I was a kid, and the sea looked and felt nothing like it does today, oily and green. As a kid, the night skies were alive with millions of bright twinkling stars, the air in the city still smelled of trees and flowers, not nausea inducing gas fumes, and the Antarctic was a continent of ice. So I know first hand that the planet has changed significantly over these years. It’s been polluted, and the polluting continues. You don’t need to be a scientist to figure out that our planet is reacting to pollution, you just need to use your God-given commonsense.

Most of us pick up our news intake in mini bytes, a few minutes at the computer, another few flipping TV channels, a conversation at the water cooler. Not surprisingly, when we hear a seemingly sensible argument debunking the entire global warming theory, it tends to muddle our thinking. Point in case: myself. After watching Al Gore’s “Inconvenient Truth” I pretty much thought to myself, well, that’s it, game over. Then I started hearing the other side, scathing counters by the likes of CNN’s Glenn Beck and journalist Robert Tracinski who wrote a post “Guilty Until Proven Innocent” in which he slams certain media outlets for calling carbon dioxide a pollutant, and my thinking of doom and gloom began to soften, which arguably might be a good thing.

The problem is the debunkers tend to do more harm than the alarmists. The debunkers tend to make people forget commonsense, so much so that when the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) released their latest findings on Global warming, almost every person I spoke to about the report, and it wasn’t a few, laughed it off. These people, it seems, would rather drown in their polluted cities or maybe die of thirst in the same places rather than entertain the notion that our planet is conveying some sort of message.

Let’s play the devil’s advocate for a moment. Let’s say the IPCC has it all wrong, and that the changes in our climate are temporary and very normal, a view akin to the stance of the recent BBC documentary. Governments will spend fortunes needlessly implementing environmental changes, many industries will be forced to conform to the new paradigm or fold, people will have to curb their environmental onslaught, new clean power inventions will overtake the old systems, the skies and oceans will take on a cleaner look and feel, and smog and fuel stinking streets will become memories of the past. What a terrible thought, huh?

Though technically correct with his commentary on what carbon dioxide is, right wing journalist Robert Tracinski and others of like mind who decry global warming activism, are guilty of making millions of Americans lethargically indifferent to environmental pollution, which, rightly or wrongly, is locked hand in hand with global warming. Keeping the status quo is not a good thing. Debunking the hundreds of climatology scientists who are 90% certain that human produced carbon gases are contributing to global climatic changes is not a good thing. Even if the less than 100% degree of certainty in a court of law would result in a verdict of reasonable doubt, does the world really want to let global warming go free, which means letting polluters go free? Can humanity afford to guess with our future? Surely it makes more sense to err on the side of caution, even if the climate concerns are overstated.

What really amazes me is why there are so many outspoken voices against global warming awareness from individuals without any vested interest in the automotive industry or the oil industry, in fact from any major pollution causing industry. To the millions of plain, hardworking people in America who believe wholeheartedly that global warming is hyped, not so bad, a hoax, a liberal minded ploy, all I can say is this: Are you ready to bet your life on it, and the lives of your children and grandchildren? How sure are you that we are not on the verge of massive species extinction and what makes you think man is exempt?

While some scientific/media reports paint an alarming picture of our future on this planet, and others make light of the subject, and while the political posts use each viewpoint at whim, bending and distorting the facts, you would be hard pressed to find a practicing, employed scientist who rejects the notion of man’s involvement in global warming. Even Dr. John Christy, one of the leading climatologists in America, most notably recognized for his outspoken contrary opinions on some global warming issues, has publicly stated that “It is scientifically inconceivable that after changing forests into cities, turning millions of acres into farmland, putting massive quantities of soot and dust into the atmosphere and sending quantities of greenhouse gases into the air, that the natural course of climate change hasn’t been increased in the past century.”

As the climate debate rages on, as fierce as the weather in the southern hemisphere this year, we seem to lose perspective of one of the core values of the green movement: loving the earth. Even if carbon dioxide is not the cause of global warming, the pollution from industry, from cars and boats and planes definitely affects all living things on our planet, and not in a positive way. So the bottom line is this: If commonsense tells you global warming awareness will lead to planetary respect, then maybe you’d like to pass on this message of hope and change. If on the other you don’t feel we should err on the side of caution, feel free to e-mail me why we should carry on as normal, and by all means pick up my novel “Into the Abyss” not so much about global warming as global respect.

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