He meets a Dutchman dressed in oddly antiquated clothes. The man calls out his name, and together they haul a keg up the mountain. Hearing thunderous noise, they approach a hollow where men with long beards are playing nine pins. Without asking how they know his name, he drinks some of their liquor and soon falls asleep.
His world, when Rip Van Winkle awakes, is changed beyond recognition.
Our world is Winkled.
At first glance, birds and trees don't seem much different, yet they're missing some species that have gone extinct. Insects still hum, although outdone by the drone of engines that never sleep. As always the sun shines, with sunsets getting more spectacular. In fact, photographers go to photosynthetic places where the air is more difficult to breathe. And now many roads are here, concrete ribbons packed with machines that jam together on occasion. Drivers emerge to yell, point guns, and shoot at each other.
Had Rip awakened near Highway 101, instead of in colonial America, he might be getting crazy. Oh, this is not to say that we're entirely off the rails, gone off like spoiled sausage. At upper levels of a caste system still in place, it hasn't gone like that.
There are clothes washing machines, TV dinners, restaurants, anti-cavity tooth paste. online reservations, mobile phones, antibiotics, libraries with colleges attached, clothes that shed dirt, freedom from religion, water proof shoes, more than twenty brands of milk all kept refrigerated, certificates of deposit, gas powered lawn mowers, free concerts in the park, ball point pends, pizza parlors (Pizza And Pipes), public transportation, emancipated barbers, barrels of Sherry, chocolate milk, free band instruments for high school kids, shingles that don't rot.
Millions of years of dead plants kept underground leave a legacy.
Extraction and refinement costs are part of the price for fossil fuel. But for that ancient oil laid down by nature, free is as good as it gets. It has been a profit trove, building the wealth of nations, corporations, and modern humanity, all taken for normal now. Hardly raises an eyebrow, except for climate change.
Since the weather is disruptive, we hear talk of replacing fossil fuel with fusion power. Containment of the fusion reaction, if achieved on a scale conducive to full scale generation, can make more energy available than any previous method, with little radioactive waste. It cannot entail the risk of runaway fission, meltdown as at Cherynobyl or Fukushima. The raw material, deuterium, is available in ocean water.
What if energy is no longer a scarce resource?
Let's say the pandemic ends. Green house gasses are brought down soon enough to mitigate climate change. Nuclear energy is phased out. Solar energy becomes more efficient and utilized. Fusion power is mastered. Arable land and world population are brought into balance, The MAD launch on warning posture is replaced by mutual sanity.
Odds of survival for planet earth and its creatures could improve. Would life be better?
Not necessarily. With notable exceptions, life got easier with the oil bonanza, yet we have riots and mass murders with increasing frequency. The cornucopia of consumption does not ensure satisfaction. The obvious need for something else, if only dully felt, seems to pose yet another threat. Subconscious thought is powerful. In addition, the physical adjustments listed above are what might happen. We don't know what will happen.
Nonetheless, how we live is changing. Some of us are aware that climate change is due to human action and have decided not to field cattle. Cow farts are methane, a powerful green house gas. It's OK to not eat meat. Produce is transported by fossil fueled vehicles. It's OK to grow your own. A consumptive life, driven by oil bonanza advertising, influenced by group behavior, is not. A creative life, not focused on physical things, is.
Waking up might not be easy. The climate problem means there isn't much choice. In great danger, says the I Ching, lies opportunity. With this imperative comes the opportunity of addressing the fundamental weakness of modern civilization – its physical benefits are unrelated to our ancient needs. The idea, I think therefore I am, is too cramped. Identification with the cosmos seems foreign, forgotten. The me that perceives me includes more than itself.
Cow farts aside, some people have quieted down enough to remember. It is possible, even collectively, that we'll take this last chance.
