It feels as if January whipped by, and that it lasted forever. A lot happened, because a lot can happen in 30 days. Some of it good, some of it not so good, but all of it got me here to today, so there’s that to be said for it.
For some reason, regardless of the complete fabrication of the information or its import, I always check whether Phil-of-the-town-that-I-can’t-be-bothered-to-look-the-spelling-of-up saw his shadow.* Since many of you come here from Facebook, you may already know I asked earlier if anyone knew the last time Phil-etc. didn’t see his shadow. You may also have deduced, from my grumpiness, that he did, in fact, see it. Yet again.
There is a rational part of my brain that knows that this, together with astrology and 10-day-weather forecasting, is about as reliable as straight up wishing, just on a public forum. Then there is the… slightly twisted? Trivially paranoid? Part of me that has decided it’s all a plot to keep people thinking that climate change is a myth. The Almighty Phil-etc. has prognistimicated that there will be more winter. Damn those lying liberal hippies for taking up my valuable brain-space with their crack-pot theories.
I am not, by nature, an activist. This is because activism, as a practice, requires 1) a great deal of energy, and B) a confrontational nature. While the former may occasionally happen when the stars align properly and Cariad is playing Final Fantasy CCCLVII, the latter so rarely happens that we’re just going to smile and nod and move along now.
Which brings me to Environmental Economics. No, really, it does, hear (read?) me out. It was a class I took, roughly an age ago, that was actually quite good. Brooks Hull, long may he live and confuse students, taught it, and while I think I did pretty abysmally, I learned a good bit. One of the “granted” conditions that we had to accept at the beginning of the class was that only people matter. Not animals, not forests, only people. Which is entirely as it should be, because it wasn’t an ecology class, it was economics, which is, essentially, a study of things that happen as a result of human behaviors, interactions, and reactions.
For some reason, I always thought about the polar bears.** As in, who will speak for the polar bears?! Who are busy, and generally possessed of a confrontational enough nature that no one has volunteered to ask them questions about environmental economics. At least, no one who made it back alive, anyway. Maybe the moose got them. Anyway, the point here, and I swear it was a much sharper one when I started, is that it always made me sad, in this class, that by talking about the economics of the environment, polar bears were unimportant, in the “human scheme” of things.
My reaction to which, I finally decided, was that it just goes to prove that the “human scheme” of things, is really quite unimportant, when it comes right down to it.
* I am not going to divulge how many times I had to reread that sentence in order to determine the correct verb usage.
** Always floating along on a Looney-Tunes-esque rapidly shrinking little ice-floe.