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Something to ponder, by Jim Hopkins
The voice was marinated in testosterone, deep as a Texas well and dangerously smoky, like coal – or so Dr Russel Norman would allege. Fortunately, the Green Leader of the Joint Party had just left, leaving behind a pamphlet-denouncing cubicle farming in New Zealand. Cows, cars and coal; mortal sins of modern man, it seems. “Hullo?” The voice was brusque. It was clear the caller didn’t suffer daydreaming fossil fools gladly. “Alan Titchall speaking, editor, Energy NZ. Is that the always cheerful Jim Hopkins”? “Seldom cheerful now, AT.” “Why so?” “The world can play havoc with a chap’s cheerfulness on any given day, sir. You wake up, still breathing, the birds are singing, the mice have left some muesli, you’re full of joie de vivre or equivalent French affliction, then, just so you know what’s what and who Hone’s haranguing, you turn on the wireless and, wallop, in the blink of a nanosecond, a whole headful of dopamine goes down the dunny!” “Dopamine?” “The chemical we produce when we’re happy, sir. The brain’s own party pill.” “Our readers aren’t into that.” “No, but you could argue that innovation and exploration are two of our biggest buzzes. And your mag’s full of innovators, sir...with the possible exception of Transpower who can’t even deal with the odd cranky cocky. Unless they’ve got a police escort...” “They were dealing with a strange bloke.” “That makes it one-all, doesn’t it? The point is, Energy NZ is a great dopamine dispenser. Full of good news... Getting Power from Refuse, Mining Heat, Frozen Gas Riches, Another Step for Tidal Energy, Deep Sea Wind Farms ... the list is endless. And there’s great ghosts haunting your pages. Faraday, Tesla, Edison, Einstein, Oppenheimer, Daimler, Brunel. All of whom will be sharing their dopamine with the angels when they read Energy NZ.” “Y-e-e-e-e-e-s...” He sounded dubious. “So why are we so miserable? If the world was even halfway rational, we’d be as optimistic as a Victorian in the Crystal Palace. Because we’re Victorians too. Their revolution is ours and we should be as proud as they were. This is another age of astonishments and wonders. Sure, we’ve switched from steam and steel to silicon and chips but the result’s the same. Hadron, Hubble, hybrids, GE, GM, gee whiz, transplants, telephones, television (perhaps not), kevlar, condoms, contraception, lunar landings, lasers, tasers, razors...” “Don’t go on.” “...and even, dare we say it, nuclear power. “We’re the healthiest humans ever, living longer, richer. And that’s world-wide, however bad some places still are. We ain’t perfect, but we ain’t broken either. We should be over the moon, not giving up on the journey. We’ve harnessed the atom, the sun, the wind and the tides. We’re splicing genes, using stem cells, cloning life. We’re not gods but, gosh, we’re getting close. We should embrace that. We should be the happiest people alive.” “Really?” “Yes! By any reckoning, being gods beats being victims. Not that you’d know it. Everyone’s a victim now – except Catholic priests. We’re awash with victims, up to the bleedin’ gunwales, sir. “If you can’t be a celebrity, be a victim – or both. That’s our style. It used to be just the nutters yelling, ‘repent, The End is nigh,’ now it’s half of Hollywood and nearly every ‘expert’ in town. An apocalyptic flock bleating about global warming and peak oil. “There’s no such thing as peak oil, sir. The problem’s being solved now!! The only question is what comes next. But that doesn’t suit the fear breeders. Gloom and doom are the opiates of the anxiety industry. And we’ve swallowed this codswollop hook, line and stinker. Instead of celebrating our genius, like the Victorians, we’ve got our heads stuck up our Nostradanus, terrified we’re killing the planet. “Well, bollocks! We’re not. And someone should say so. Now, what prompted your call, AT?” “Well...” (long pause.) “I’d planned to ask you about doing a column.” “And?” “We’ll see.” There was a click and the line went dead.
Energy NZ Vol.4 No.2 March-April 2010 |
“Hi.”