The War Against Reality

I didn’t like reality so I rebelled. And I was in a position to change things.

Really, nobody likes reality. I mean, we are all mortal and terrified of death. Who’s idea was that? Why should we accept reality? Give me one good reason.

As it turns out, I was profiting handsomely for what we’ve been doing for decades—taking natural resources and labor and producing energy. It looked like a win-win-win to me. To lots of people.

Naysayers were slightly annoying but easy to ignore. Me and my friends, we kept drilling. The money flowed. We used our money to live a lavish life, control policy, keep labor costs low and, when convenient, buy political office directly.

Hey, I became Secretary of Energy. Why the hell not?

The other side won some battles, but we never stopped digging, drilling, mountaintop removing, fracking and otherwise getting our hands on fossil fuels. We were and continue to be pretty much in charge.

Oh, that doesn’t keep us from complaining. Me and my pals make a spectacle of crying like babies—the socialists are taking over and ruining everything! And THEY (certainly not WE) are insane.

And you know what? We win all the arguments. THEY are always reacting, responding to our never-ending barrage of attacks. THEY are always on the defensive. THEY never lay a glove on us.

But there’s that damn Mother Nature. The snow storms. The heat waves. The earthquakes. Every goddam thing. One after another.

We blame everything, and I mean EVERYTHING on our opponents. And, hey, they take the bait every single time! They repeat our charges, re-broadcast them, debates them and remain ALWAYS on the defensive while we plow ahead. I can’t believe how easy this is! And how they NEVER learn!

So, yeah, the planet will be pretty much uninhabitable by 2050 but I’ll be dead by then. Why should I care? And I have plenty of people supporting me, defending me, even though their children and grandchildren (and even my own) will—because of me—be doomed to trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic hell hole.

The war continues. You are all bit players. Pawns, really. It’s my game and I’ll never have to face reality, except at my personal end. No, reality is your problem.

And you’ve decided to bow to me instead. Idiot.