Ivern Ball said that.
This page isn't to argue the toss about climate change.
It's to try and get our heads round the fact that we may have missed the boat, and we need to understand what that means. For us - our lives, our sense of purpose, our status, our security, our identity, our sense of collective community, our politics, and our next steps - and for everyone else. No-one knows the answers, here. We're just trying to look at the wall. Maybe for the first time.
Some of the stuff on this page may make you sad; or angry; or confused. Probably all three and more. That's ok. We all feel like that. Me, I'm incandescent, and (in the words of James Murray, below), fucking terrified.
But as Kate Marvel (below) says:
"I have no hope that these changes can be reversed. We are inevitably sending our children to live on an unfamiliar planet. But the opposite of hope is not despair. It is grief. Even while resolving to limit the damage, we can mourn. And here, the sheer scale of the problem provides a perverse comfort: we are in this together. The swiftness of the change, its scale and inevitability, binds us into one, broken hearts trapped together under a warming atmosphere.
"We need courage, not hope. Grief, after all, is the cost of being alive. We are all fated to live lives shot through with sadness, and are not worth less for it. Courage is the resolve to do well without the assurance of a happy ending. Little molecules, random in their movement, add together to a coherent whole. Little lives do not. But here we are, together on a planet radiating ever more into space where there is no darkness, only light we cannot see.""
We're organising an opportunity to come together and see where our respective dust has settled (or not) about this, and these articles, in October - watch this space for more. All comments welcome - here and on the FB page .