Contributing Monkie G Living Staff Monkies
Published on February 14, 2009
We’re all going to die!
According to leading scientists, our world has made minced meat of most of its former tenants. Fossil records indicate mass catastrophic climate change has occurred on Earth five previous times throughout her many revolving days of existence. Climate change that looks a lot like the end of the world. Or at least the end of our world.
Now, some scientists are predicting we are moving aggressively towards Climatic Revolution Number Six. (And no, it’s not on the Beatles White Album.)
That’s right. We’re not just gonna die. We’re going to be consumed. Burned up. Used as fuel for the great space machine.
Relax; it’s not the end of the world. The world will go on turning. It’s the tenants who get forcibly evicted. Extinction style.
But that’s just the way the world turns, right? We have nothing to do with that, right?
Wrong. Today, according to gloomy scientific predictions, humans are tilting the scale in extinction’s favor. With our melting ice caps, deforestation, and general ecological devastation, we’re facilitating our own annihilation. The last time the earth corrected itself, some 65 million years ago, it was the result of an Everest-sized asteroid which jacked up the earth’s spin cycle enough to result in a 70% species loss. Today, in our post-industrial/pre-apocalyptic world, we are seeing species loss occurring on a similarly destructive scale. Species loss is soaring. And there are no guarantees we won’t be one of the consumed.
It’s ironic, isn’t it, that Homo sapiens Latin translation actually means “Wise Human”, or “Knowing Human”? Yet if we are to live up to this translation, if we are going to live at all, we must become wise to the fact that our survival will rely on co-habitation, not deforestation.
Relatively speaking, we are a young species. Homo sapiens are but babies compared to Papa Eco-system. And Papa Eco-system is but a we-one compared to Great Great Grandmother Earth. And Mama Earth is barely a twinkle in the eye of the patriarch Galaxy.
And yet here we are thinking we matter.