Paxman Has Potty Mouth
Source: feedproxy.google.com
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The Mayor's Broke-Ass Challenge
The Mayor's Broke-Ass Challenge
Hey everyone! I know this will seem like a waste of a post to those of you out there who live the high life in your Trump condos and wipe your ass with endangered chinchilla pelts, but this is a post for the rest of us: broke-asses. Well, wait - let me clarify; I work a very decent job and I am by no means sleeping on a poo-stained mattress every night or limiting dental care to scratching at my teeth with my fingernails. But when I need to save money for something large, I really have to curb my spending. I don't usually spend a ton of money on clothes (most come from second-hand stores), I don't often drink, don't smoke, don't have a car. So guess where all my money goes? That's right - expensive foods. I wouldn't ever spend more than $20 on a hair cut, but I don't think twice about blowing $100 through cheese. I really want to buy a new bike (I have it picked out and everything!) so I need to start saving where I can. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to The Mayor's Broke-Ass Challenge!
I used to think that saving money on food and drinks was limited to those making pruno in the penal system, but it doesn't have to get that bleak. JOKING! It does get that bad; I'm going to suffer from organ failure within the week, I know it. I started in the produce section looking for cheap fruits and vegetables. EPIC FAIL. Why is fruit so pricey? No wonder the poor kids I grew up with thought the 4 major food groups were noodles, cheez, bread, and pudding: tomatoes just weren't in the budget. Citrus was out because most are priced per piece; $1 for an orange? I'm sorry, I didn't realize I lived in Communist Russia. It's times like this that I wished I lived in a warmer climate where things grew all year and not just two months in the summer. I finally found a good deal - $1.99 for a pint of strawberries. Sure, they were imported from another country, but beggars can't be choosers when it comes to cheap food. Plus, they didn't look like they had dead scorpions in them, so they went into the basket.
With one item in my basket I moved onto personal care stuff. I knew I needed soap, but my usual brand is too expensive - $2 per bar - so I needed to sniff out a deal. I decided to go with the ghetto brand - Jergens - and then sunk even further by finding the generic version of Jergens. It's called Pure and Natural, which means that I'll probably break out in a rash the very first time I use it. BUT I got 8 bars of soap for $2.29. That means that each bar only cost $0.28 - that's some fucking cheap soap. I'm starting to think they were definitely made by Chinese laborers in a 200-degree factory with no washroom breaks. Well have to see how terrible they are (although they do smell good).
Dinner was clearly going to come in the form of a can, and there is no better cheap canned dinner than something homemade from the love of my life, Executive Chef Hector Boyardee. And just like my soap purchase, I went even one step cheaper by getting a can of No Name pasta. Okay, time for another Canadiana lesson for my American readers. In Canada, we have two grocery giants: Metro and Loblaw (okay, that's not totally true. We also have Italian supermarkets like Brunos, Weston Fine Foods, and Longos, and super WASP-y Sobeys, but in general, go to any town in Canada and you'll find a variation on Loblaws or Metro). No Name is the generic-of-the-generic brand, meaning Loblaws has a generic brand called President's Choice, and this is the even more generic, white trash brand. And they don't even disguise it; you know how some generic brands try to church up their names to sound all "hey! We're not what the poor kids have to buy! We're just like the name brand!"? Yeah, No Name doesn't give a shit; they tell you exactly what you're getting. For example:

I'm dead serious with that packaging too - it makes you feel like you're buying wartime rations. My No Name Beefaroni ("Macaroni and Beef", which sounds like something your mother would make if she worked the night shift at a casino) rung in at a cheap $1.39. This is where I'm scared, people; I am very picky and very good at telling the difference between brand-name and generic foods, as well as differentiating between common items (I can smell a cola and tell you whether it's Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi). Which means No Name Macaroni and Beef is either going to be a piss-poor substitute at best, or the most vile thing I have ever put in my mouth (and I did work down at the docks in college. HEY-O! I'll be here all week).
I also picked up a can of $0.99 No Name beans, but I have tried them before and they're delicious (but really, how do you fuck up beans, amiright?)
For the past while at work I have been eating out or bringing whatever from home, or just eating a late breakfast that will tie me over till dinner, but it's not really working for me. I think I'd like to have a decent lunch from here on out, so I picked up some cheap soup ($1.99 for a box. Yes, my soup came in a box. FUCK OFF) and it was on sale, so double score; lunch for two days, $1 per lunch. Again, this isn't a risk because it's Knorr soup, which is delicious. In case you were wondering, I bought broccoli and some kind of ground-up vegetable/potato soup. I have tried both before and they are really good but give me tummy shames (read: make me a little windy).
Lastly I knew I needed cereal, since I go through cereal like a child left alone on Saturday morning. On Saturday I bought a Family-sized box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch: by last night it was all gone (4 days. I'd like to say that's a new record, but my personal best has been a family sized box of Lucky Charms in 24 hours. Not my proudest moment). My old budget would have allowed me to pick out whatever my heart desired. $7.99 for a tiny box of All Bran Strawberry Bites? Don't mind if I do! But my days of $8 cereal are over, so it's back to Welfare Choice for me. Now, here's a little known fact about cereal shopping: try to find a box of anything for under $3. I know, right? Aren't the ingredients mostly grains and sugar? To the best of my knowledge those are pretty cheap, so why is cereal so pricey? Blargh. Nothing was really on sale; they did have a decent 2 for $6 deal, but that just encourages me to bowl-after-bowl binge. So I bought what was cheap ($2.94) and plentiful (500g) and decent sounding (President's Choice Raisin Almond Crunch). I haven't tried it yet, but I'm sure it's not going to be terrible. I mean, it's going to be a very shitty cousin of Raisin Bran, but isn't everything really just a shitty cousin of Raisin Bran? (What? Exactly).
Rounding out my shopping trip was a splurge - 1% plain yogurt. It was only $2.09 and will last me all week, but I felt shameful for not buying the hyper-discounted, nearly expired kids yogurt tubes. I would have saved $0.75, but lost something much greater (parasite-free intestinal walls. Also, dignity).
Everything came to $16.93, which kind of surprised me. I thought I could go much lower. 9 items for almost $17? I must be doing something wrong. Next time I want to make a goal for myself - say $15 and 12 items. I don't know if I have a hope in hell of achieving that kind of a lofty goal, but goddamnit, I'm going to try. This just in, I need a fucking life.
Hey everyone! I know this will seem like a waste of a post to those of you out there who live the high life in your Trump condos and wipe your ass with endangered chinchilla pelts, but this is a post for the rest of us: broke-asses. Well, wait - let me clarify; I work a very decent job and I am by no means sleeping on a poo-stained mattress every night or limiting dental care to scratching at my teeth with my fingernails. But when I need to save money for something large, I really have to curb my spending. I don't usually spend a ton of money on clothes (most come from second-hand stores), I don't often drink, don't smoke, don't have a car. So guess where all my money goes? That's right - expensive foods. I wouldn't ever spend more than $20 on a hair cut, but I don't think twice about blowing $100 through cheese. I really want to buy a new bike (I have it picked out and everything!) so I need to start saving where I can. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to The Mayor's Broke-Ass Challenge!
I used to think that saving money on food and drinks was limited to those making pruno in the penal system, but it doesn't have to get that bleak. JOKING! It does get that bad; I'm going to suffer from organ failure within the week, I know it. I started in the produce section looking for cheap fruits and vegetables. EPIC FAIL. Why is fruit so pricey? No wonder the poor kids I grew up with thought the 4 major food groups were noodles, cheez, bread, and pudding: tomatoes just weren't in the budget. Citrus was out because most are priced per piece; $1 for an orange? I'm sorry, I didn't realize I lived in Communist Russia. It's times like this that I wished I lived in a warmer climate where things grew all year and not just two months in the summer. I finally found a good deal - $1.99 for a pint of strawberries. Sure, they were imported from another country, but beggars can't be choosers when it comes to cheap food. Plus, they didn't look like they had dead scorpions in them, so they went into the basket.
With one item in my basket I moved onto personal care stuff. I knew I needed soap, but my usual brand is too expensive - $2 per bar - so I needed to sniff out a deal. I decided to go with the ghetto brand - Jergens - and then sunk even further by finding the generic version of Jergens. It's called Pure and Natural, which means that I'll probably break out in a rash the very first time I use it. BUT I got 8 bars of soap for $2.29. That means that each bar only cost $0.28 - that's some fucking cheap soap. I'm starting to think they were definitely made by Chinese laborers in a 200-degree factory with no washroom breaks. Well have to see how terrible they are (although they do smell good).
Dinner was clearly going to come in the form of a can, and there is no better cheap canned dinner than something homemade from the love of my life, Executive Chef Hector Boyardee. And just like my soap purchase, I went even one step cheaper by getting a can of No Name pasta. Okay, time for another Canadiana lesson for my American readers. In Canada, we have two grocery giants: Metro and Loblaw (okay, that's not totally true. We also have Italian supermarkets like Brunos, Weston Fine Foods, and Longos, and super WASP-y Sobeys, but in general, go to any town in Canada and you'll find a variation on Loblaws or Metro). No Name is the generic-of-the-generic brand, meaning Loblaws has a generic brand called President's Choice, and this is the even more generic, white trash brand. And they don't even disguise it; you know how some generic brands try to church up their names to sound all "hey! We're not what the poor kids have to buy! We're just like the name brand!"? Yeah, No Name doesn't give a shit; they tell you exactly what you're getting. For example:

I'm dead serious with that packaging too - it makes you feel like you're buying wartime rations. My No Name Beefaroni ("Macaroni and Beef", which sounds like something your mother would make if she worked the night shift at a casino) rung in at a cheap $1.39. This is where I'm scared, people; I am very picky and very good at telling the difference between brand-name and generic foods, as well as differentiating between common items (I can smell a cola and tell you whether it's Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi). Which means No Name Macaroni and Beef is either going to be a piss-poor substitute at best, or the most vile thing I have ever put in my mouth (and I did work down at the docks in college. HEY-O! I'll be here all week).
I also picked up a can of $0.99 No Name beans, but I have tried them before and they're delicious (but really, how do you fuck up beans, amiright?)
For the past while at work I have been eating out or bringing whatever from home, or just eating a late breakfast that will tie me over till dinner, but it's not really working for me. I think I'd like to have a decent lunch from here on out, so I picked up some cheap soup ($1.99 for a box. Yes, my soup came in a box. FUCK OFF) and it was on sale, so double score; lunch for two days, $1 per lunch. Again, this isn't a risk because it's Knorr soup, which is delicious. In case you were wondering, I bought broccoli and some kind of ground-up vegetable/potato soup. I have tried both before and they are really good but give me tummy shames (read: make me a little windy).
Lastly I knew I needed cereal, since I go through cereal like a child left alone on Saturday morning. On Saturday I bought a Family-sized box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch: by last night it was all gone (4 days. I'd like to say that's a new record, but my personal best has been a family sized box of Lucky Charms in 24 hours. Not my proudest moment). My old budget would have allowed me to pick out whatever my heart desired. $7.99 for a tiny box of All Bran Strawberry Bites? Don't mind if I do! But my days of $8 cereal are over, so it's back to Welfare Choice for me. Now, here's a little known fact about cereal shopping: try to find a box of anything for under $3. I know, right? Aren't the ingredients mostly grains and sugar? To the best of my knowledge those are pretty cheap, so why is cereal so pricey? Blargh. Nothing was really on sale; they did have a decent 2 for $6 deal, but that just encourages me to bowl-after-bowl binge. So I bought what was cheap ($2.94) and plentiful (500g) and decent sounding (President's Choice Raisin Almond Crunch). I haven't tried it yet, but I'm sure it's not going to be terrible. I mean, it's going to be a very shitty cousin of Raisin Bran, but isn't everything really just a shitty cousin of Raisin Bran? (What? Exactly).
Rounding out my shopping trip was a splurge - 1% plain yogurt. It was only $2.09 and will last me all week, but I felt shameful for not buying the hyper-discounted, nearly expired kids yogurt tubes. I would have saved $0.75, but lost something much greater (parasite-free intestinal walls. Also, dignity).
Everything came to $16.93, which kind of surprised me. I thought I could go much lower. 9 items for almost $17? I must be doing something wrong. Next time I want to make a goal for myself - say $15 and 12 items. I don't know if I have a hope in hell of achieving that kind of a lofty goal, but goddamnit, I'm going to try. This just in, I need a fucking life.
Ben Stiller Updates His Facebook status
Ben Stiller Updates His Facebook status
Ben Stiller is always making us laugh... Well his awkward yet funny impression of him updating his facebook status through video is no different.
Just for fun one of my favirote clips of Ben stiller... his dead on impression Joaquin Phoenix. Love it! If you've never seen it you will too.


Source: feedproxy.google.com
Ben Stiller is always making us laugh... Well his awkward yet funny impression of him updating his facebook status through video is no different.
Just for fun one of my favirote clips of Ben stiller... his dead on impression Joaquin Phoenix. Love it! If you've never seen it you will too.
Source: feedproxy.google.com
Y-3 Show with Reggie Bush
Y-3 Show with Reggie Bush
Kim wore Martin Margiela cream blazer with funky shoulder pads with Temperley leather leggings and YSL shoes along with gold talons, which sit on the tip of the finger with nails attached made by Bijules.
Source: kardashianfashion.blogspot.com

Source: kardashianfashion.blogspot.com
CULT MOVIE REVIEW: Collapse (2009)
CULT MOVIE REVIEW: Collapse (2009)
Forget Orphan, Pandorum or Zombieland, the Chris Smith documentary Collapse is one scary-as-hell movie. Basically, it's a talking-head documentary about the end of the modern world. And it features one riveting speaker at center stage: a man named Michael Ruppert.
Some critics and journalists uncharitably term Ruppert a conspiracy theorist and others have labeled him an alarmist. Yet there's one thing you absolutely can't dispute after watching this film. The man is absolutely spell-binding; electric.
When Ruppert expresses himself, he does so with such great confidence, such incredible intelligence, you virtually hang on every syllable. He's profound and he's compelling, but, of course, what we really want to know is this: is he also right? Is he predicting the shape of things to come?
Over an 82-minute span, this former Los Angeles Police officer and self-described "cartographer" -- who maps how the world really works, not the way we think it works -- describes in excruciating detail why the end is nigh not just for America, but for the entire industrialized world.
For human civilization itself.
The lynch-pin, of course, is Peak Oil. Oil is the very commodity that allows for the production of plastic, that enables modern farming, that helps us build electric plants and nuclear reactors, and more. Take oil out of the human equation, and suddenly everything from the food distribution chain to commuting to your day-job is right out the window. Goodbye Wal-Mart. So long, Target.
What's worse, according to Ruppert, is that the world has no realistic Plan B. There's no back-up paradigm to keep society solvent, secure and productive once oil runs out. Ruppert also alleges that the CIA has known about Peak Oil since the 1970s, and that Dick Cheney's secret energy task force in 2001 concerned this very topic; how to secure the oil fields of Iraq in what is, essentially, a resource war end-game.
In riveting fashion, Ruppert escorts the audience right through every detail of the Peak Oil scenario, explaining why A.N.W.R. drilling, Arctic Drilling and even new Iraq pipelines are -- at absolute best -- momentary solutions to the crisis. Furthermore, Ruppert dismisses Ethanol, electric cars and other "alternatives" with withering but indisputable logic. Without oil, you can't make tires, he reminds us, so what the hell are electric cars going to ride on? Finally, Ruppert does hold out some sliver of hope for solar and wind power.
Late in Collapse, Ruppert mentions Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's five stages of grief, and notes that the modern world is now firmly ensconced in the stage between denial and anger. And that more anger is on its way, as more of us realize a paradigm of "infinite growth" is contrary to the very laws of physics.
To boil down "infinite growth," what Ruppert is saying here is that our economy isn't going to get better...not so long as money and oil are finite commodities. What he's saying is that we're in for more wars to control the last drops of oil. What he's saying is that our way of life is unsustainable.
And if you watch Collapse, you'll see a man who is absolutely anguished over what he believes. Ruppert's beliefs have made him Public Enemy Number #1 to many in rigid ideological circles (think Cheney), a pariah to others, and just a nutcase to the masses. Given this, Ruppert seems to have made no recent emotional attachments to other human beings, though he loves his dog, taking long walks on the beach, and rock'n'roll music.
Collapse concerns global apocalypse, but in some meta-fashion, it's actually about Michael Ruppert's personal apocalypse. What he knows -- or what he thinks he knows -- keeps him isolated, alienated and marginalized. And he will absolutely not compromise his beliefs. No matter what. He likens himself to a German citizen in Hitler's Third Reich; one who could see, ultimately, Hitler's destination and the pain and trauma it would cause the world. If Ruppert were living in that time and place, he would never put down his beliefs and go along with Group Happy Think. And he feels the same way today: he's not about to stop conveying his message of collapse when there's the chance -- even a slim chance -- that he will be heard by someone who can come along and change things.
"We're trapped by old ideas," Ruppert states at one point (and I may be paraphrasing a little). He insists we need a President like Thomas Jefferson who will spark a revolution. Not a violent, physical, bloody revolution but one of fresh ideas, of new thoughts. We need to tear down the conceits we have blindly accepted for decades and start again, he says, with the concepts of balance and sustainability replacing dead ideologies like socialism, communism and -- yes -- capitalism. As Ruppert points out, all of those systems of belief are predicated on the idea of infinite growth.
Throughout Collapse, Michael Ruppert makes his case in a compelling manner, and one bordering on arrogance. When questioned repeatedly about "human ingenuity," he never really answers. Isn't it possible to *think* our way out of this brewing crisis? He doesn't seem to think so, but the movie suggests that Ruppert is as trapped in his old ideas as are the people he so vociferously criticizes. He has -- for good reason, no doubt -- lost hope. He sees only a coming "suicide" of the human race on the horizon.
I agree with Ruppert on the facts (about Peak Oil, about the love of money being the root of all evil, and on the need for a new renaissance in human thought), yet throughout the film I couldn't completely buy into his doomsday interpretations.
Here's why: human beings remain adaptable and inventive. Oil has brought us great riches in the last 120 years, but it wasn't "oil" that imagined X-Rays, CAT scans or MRIs. It wasn't oil that mapped the human genome in less than twenty years. It wasn't oil that conceived the cure for Polio, or invented the Internet. Resources are limited here on Earth, it's true, but the human mind's capacity to grow, evolve and seek new knowledge is infinite. There are probably a million minds in America today working on the problem of Peak Oil, and also considering realistic energy alternatives.
Necessity is the mother of invention, and the great sweep of human history has always been towards improving the human condition. I don't believe we're going to sacrifice everything we hold dear because oil runs out. We will transition (a term Ruppert also uses) -- and there will be some tough times -- but I believe we will endure, and ultimately prosper. That's why my favorite part of Collapse involves Ruppert's stirring lecture on two countries that have been forced to transition: North Korea and Cuba. In North Korea, Ruppert tells us, there was starvation and death after the collapse of the Soviet Union, primarily because it was a top-down, centralized country. In Cuba by contrast, the government liberated and encouraged the people, telling them to take local ownership of their own survival and food-growing facilities. That's actually what happened, with a sort of mini-boom of organic gardening taking hold across the nation.
So yes, ninety-nine percent of all life forms that have ever evolved on Earth have suffered extinction.
But again, alone among these life-forms, man boasts the capacity to re-build the world to his liking; and even seek resources beyond the limits of the Earth. Our understanding of our universe is growing at a rapid pace; perhaps even a rapid enough pace to out-march dangers like over-population and Peak Oil.
Ruppert would no doubt call me a Pollyanna (or at the very least ask me what energy source will power our rockets when oil runs out...) but, as Collapse makes plain, for this man the sky has already fallen. The film neither endorses nor rejects Ruppert's view of things, but instead paints a picture of a man who could be a modern Cassandra...or who may have trapped himself in a purgatory of his own depressing construction.
As citizens of planet Earth, we should deal with cold, hard facts -- yes. But we should also realize that no single doomsday outcome is pre-ordained. To quote a famous science fiction franchise, there's no fate but what we make. And even though we're silly, argumentative creatures, we've accomplished amazing things during our ascent. We've touched the stars.
A thousand years ago, there are many people who would have said such an accomplishment was against the laws of physics too. But we did it, and we're still here. How did we do it? Creativity, imagination, team-work, a sense of belief in ourselves, in our community. Michael Ruppert understands these elements are important, but he is so alone in his own life, it appears, that perhaps he doesn't give these variables the weight they deserve when calculating catastrophe.
See this movie and decide for yourself.

Some critics and journalists uncharitably term Ruppert a conspiracy theorist and others have labeled him an alarmist. Yet there's one thing you absolutely can't dispute after watching this film. The man is absolutely spell-binding; electric.
When Ruppert expresses himself, he does so with such great confidence, such incredible intelligence, you virtually hang on every syllable. He's profound and he's compelling, but, of course, what we really want to know is this: is he also right? Is he predicting the shape of things to come?
Over an 82-minute span, this former Los Angeles Police officer and self-described "cartographer" -- who maps how the world really works, not the way we think it works -- describes in excruciating detail why the end is nigh not just for America, but for the entire industrialized world.
For human civilization itself.
The lynch-pin, of course, is Peak Oil. Oil is the very commodity that allows for the production of plastic, that enables modern farming, that helps us build electric plants and nuclear reactors, and more. Take oil out of the human equation, and suddenly everything from the food distribution chain to commuting to your day-job is right out the window. Goodbye Wal-Mart. So long, Target.
What's worse, according to Ruppert, is that the world has no realistic Plan B. There's no back-up paradigm to keep society solvent, secure and productive once oil runs out. Ruppert also alleges that the CIA has known about Peak Oil since the 1970s, and that Dick Cheney's secret energy task force in 2001 concerned this very topic; how to secure the oil fields of Iraq in what is, essentially, a resource war end-game.
In riveting fashion, Ruppert escorts the audience right through every detail of the Peak Oil scenario, explaining why A.N.W.R. drilling, Arctic Drilling and even new Iraq pipelines are -- at absolute best -- momentary solutions to the crisis. Furthermore, Ruppert dismisses Ethanol, electric cars and other "alternatives" with withering but indisputable logic. Without oil, you can't make tires, he reminds us, so what the hell are electric cars going to ride on? Finally, Ruppert does hold out some sliver of hope for solar and wind power.
Late in Collapse, Ruppert mentions Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's five stages of grief, and notes that the modern world is now firmly ensconced in the stage between denial and anger. And that more anger is on its way, as more of us realize a paradigm of "infinite growth" is contrary to the very laws of physics.
To boil down "infinite growth," what Ruppert is saying here is that our economy isn't going to get better...not so long as money and oil are finite commodities. What he's saying is that we're in for more wars to control the last drops of oil. What he's saying is that our way of life is unsustainable.
And if you watch Collapse, you'll see a man who is absolutely anguished over what he believes. Ruppert's beliefs have made him Public Enemy Number #1 to many in rigid ideological circles (think Cheney), a pariah to others, and just a nutcase to the masses. Given this, Ruppert seems to have made no recent emotional attachments to other human beings, though he loves his dog, taking long walks on the beach, and rock'n'roll music.
Collapse concerns global apocalypse, but in some meta-fashion, it's actually about Michael Ruppert's personal apocalypse. What he knows -- or what he thinks he knows -- keeps him isolated, alienated and marginalized. And he will absolutely not compromise his beliefs. No matter what. He likens himself to a German citizen in Hitler's Third Reich; one who could see, ultimately, Hitler's destination and the pain and trauma it would cause the world. If Ruppert were living in that time and place, he would never put down his beliefs and go along with Group Happy Think. And he feels the same way today: he's not about to stop conveying his message of collapse when there's the chance -- even a slim chance -- that he will be heard by someone who can come along and change things.
"We're trapped by old ideas," Ruppert states at one point (and I may be paraphrasing a little). He insists we need a President like Thomas Jefferson who will spark a revolution. Not a violent, physical, bloody revolution but one of fresh ideas, of new thoughts. We need to tear down the conceits we have blindly accepted for decades and start again, he says, with the concepts of balance and sustainability replacing dead ideologies like socialism, communism and -- yes -- capitalism. As Ruppert points out, all of those systems of belief are predicated on the idea of infinite growth.
Throughout Collapse, Michael Ruppert makes his case in a compelling manner, and one bordering on arrogance. When questioned repeatedly about "human ingenuity," he never really answers. Isn't it possible to *think* our way out of this brewing crisis? He doesn't seem to think so, but the movie suggests that Ruppert is as trapped in his old ideas as are the people he so vociferously criticizes. He has -- for good reason, no doubt -- lost hope. He sees only a coming "suicide" of the human race on the horizon.
I agree with Ruppert on the facts (about Peak Oil, about the love of money being the root of all evil, and on the need for a new renaissance in human thought), yet throughout the film I couldn't completely buy into his doomsday interpretations.
Here's why: human beings remain adaptable and inventive. Oil has brought us great riches in the last 120 years, but it wasn't "oil" that imagined X-Rays, CAT scans or MRIs. It wasn't oil that mapped the human genome in less than twenty years. It wasn't oil that conceived the cure for Polio, or invented the Internet. Resources are limited here on Earth, it's true, but the human mind's capacity to grow, evolve and seek new knowledge is infinite. There are probably a million minds in America today working on the problem of Peak Oil, and also considering realistic energy alternatives.
Necessity is the mother of invention, and the great sweep of human history has always been towards improving the human condition. I don't believe we're going to sacrifice everything we hold dear because oil runs out. We will transition (a term Ruppert also uses) -- and there will be some tough times -- but I believe we will endure, and ultimately prosper. That's why my favorite part of Collapse involves Ruppert's stirring lecture on two countries that have been forced to transition: North Korea and Cuba. In North Korea, Ruppert tells us, there was starvation and death after the collapse of the Soviet Union, primarily because it was a top-down, centralized country. In Cuba by contrast, the government liberated and encouraged the people, telling them to take local ownership of their own survival and food-growing facilities. That's actually what happened, with a sort of mini-boom of organic gardening taking hold across the nation.
So yes, ninety-nine percent of all life forms that have ever evolved on Earth have suffered extinction.
But again, alone among these life-forms, man boasts the capacity to re-build the world to his liking; and even seek resources beyond the limits of the Earth. Our understanding of our universe is growing at a rapid pace; perhaps even a rapid enough pace to out-march dangers like over-population and Peak Oil.
Ruppert would no doubt call me a Pollyanna (or at the very least ask me what energy source will power our rockets when oil runs out...) but, as Collapse makes plain, for this man the sky has already fallen. The film neither endorses nor rejects Ruppert's view of things, but instead paints a picture of a man who could be a modern Cassandra...or who may have trapped himself in a purgatory of his own depressing construction.
As citizens of planet Earth, we should deal with cold, hard facts -- yes. But we should also realize that no single doomsday outcome is pre-ordained. To quote a famous science fiction franchise, there's no fate but what we make. And even though we're silly, argumentative creatures, we've accomplished amazing things during our ascent. We've touched the stars.
A thousand years ago, there are many people who would have said such an accomplishment was against the laws of physics too. But we did it, and we're still here. How did we do it? Creativity, imagination, team-work, a sense of belief in ourselves, in our community. Michael Ruppert understands these elements are important, but he is so alone in his own life, it appears, that perhaps he doesn't give these variables the weight they deserve when calculating catastrophe.
See this movie and decide for yourself.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Oops la raie des fesses de Kim Kardashian en bikini
Oops la raie des fesses de Kim Kardashian en bikini
Source: hot.curul.fr
Source: hot.curul.fr
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