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Did I ever mention the time that I discovered myself in a school hall alone with Al Gore? Well no, that’s stretching the truth . . . a woman in a wheelchair was also there, and our hosts, two or three members of the Green Party. The event was a public screening of The Inconvenient Truth. We were the only two citizens to turn up, either because snow was forecast or because no one was concerned.
We met again a few months later (no, not Al Gore – the woman with wheels). Again it was under the auspices of the Greens, but in a hired church nearer the centre of town. This time it was to view What a Way to Go: Life at the End of Empire. Perhaps the publicity had been better. Or maybe the weather wasn’t as threatening. Or could it be that people were starting to care? Whatever, this time our group amounted to a couple of dozen.
From the opening chords to the closing credits, I sat enthralled. To focus more closely I slid forward, resting my chin on the row in front. Strangely, I couldn’t stop grinning. This was fantastic! Of all the environmental documentaries I’d seen that year – during which time the price of oil had doubled from $60 to $120 per barrel – this one had the greatest impact. It socked me to the core. It stirred my innards with the power of pornography. It moved me. I felt enthused, elated and excited. I wondered whether the effect was universal, but when I looked around the room I saw only doom and gloom. Though I’d experienced an epiphany, I felt obliged to tone my reaction down. How to make sense of this?
In one respect WAWTGLATEOE is only another TEOTWAWKI flick. True, I share the sentiments of those who groan, “I’m sick of all this shit. Bring the apocalypse on!” but that didn’t explain why ‘the middle-aged white guy’ grabbed my gonads so tightly. Maybe the message came at the right time at the right place – I was ready to receive and appreciate its grander, more over-arching reach; it covered a lot of ground by saying less (although not at a slower pace!). Probably, though, I warmed to it because of the interviewees.
Over the months I’ve become acquainted with a great bunch of people: Heinberg, Quinn, Jensen, Kunstler, Prieur, Orlov and Baker. I’ve read their writings online and in books, and I’ve listened to them speak in videos and through podcasts. I’ve even contacted them by email and had replies. These guys are veritably family (there’s space for them in my lifeboat). On the Peak Everything coin, they’re the human face. The privilege of having come to know them is the plus that I glean from the global situation.
There’s nothing like the end of the world to wake people up. I used to identify more with writers who lived a thousand or more years ago –authors who felt nearer and dearer to me than most people living. But now I’ve come to know a like-minded group – people prepared to examine and if necessary modify their worldview. That groks!
Each has his or her take. They come at the issue from their own angle, and everyone has something to contribute. Everyone speaks and, what’s better, everyone listens! They all value and respect the sum and range of their collective diversity.
I share Tim Bennett’s premonition that I’m living through the end of the world. That vision has held me hypnotized. For more than a year I’ve been farting about, scrambling from one peak oil fix to the next (it’s a drug as well as pornography). I believe that What a Way to Go has finally shaken me free. Thanks for that, Tim and Sally!
During the last part of WAWTGLATEOE Tim strolls along an ever-narrowing road. I seem to have taken such a path too. Along the way I’ve discovered my voice. I’ve a perspective, and I’ve something valuable to say. That is the reaction that Way to Go has chain-started in me.
