Archives for category: Movies


From Dave R – to http://www.care2.com/causes/global-warming/blog/is-this-really-the-age-of-stupid/

“I just got back from the global premier of the film The Age of Stupid, which included a live simulcast to over 500 theaters in 45 countries as a tie-in to climate week and the UN climate meetings in New York.

The movie is set up as a series of modern day vignettes looked at through the eyes of an archivist 45 years in the very bleak future, who can only wonder at why we were so stupid. To be honest, I was a bit skeptical that this film would cover any new ground: There are only so many ways to represent the potential dangers and damage of climate change, many of which were covered via Al Gore’s Inconvenient Truth and Leonardo DiCaprio’s 11th hour (and in the case of a few scenes, the lightweight and unbelievable “The Day After Tomorrow”.)

But I was impressed by the honest treatment of the complexity of the issues surrounding action on climate change. The film acknowledges that it isn’t as easy as simply turning off the ‘carbon tap’. The aspirations of billions for a middle class life, the entrepreneurial spirit, the contradictions between what we need to do for a living and what we believe, and even the simple unwillingness of many to accept aesthetic inconveniences (even while expressing concern over the climate) are all featured, providing an interesting human face and counterpoint to the growing body of scientific evidence and urgency for action. The film is full of ironies, such as the segment on a young Nigerian woman who points out the injustices of Shell Oil in her community, while selling diesel and wistfully aspiring to the “American good life”, which of course is powered at least in part by Shell.

Most of the characters seem to feel “trapped” in a lifestyle that they know is unsustainable, even as the evidence of the planetary impact mounts around them. Perhaps we are not living so much in an “age of stupid” as an age of covet or inertia? Whatever the case, these are very real behavioral barriers to tackling the climate issue. For the “haves”, we need to somehow increase the sense of urgency without waiting for the kind of planetary apocalypse to occur that the film projects. For the “have nots “, as I have mentioned before, using climate action as a tool rather than barrier for development is also a way to encourage positive change.

The post film discussion was equally interesting, featuring the film’s director (Franny Armstrong), Kofi Annan, the head of the IPCC, and many others. All seem generally alarmed at how much hangs in the balance in the next few months, both with US climate policy and worldwide commitment in Copenhagen. There was also a strong and consistent call for serious lifestyle change and economic retooling in the west as a matter of self preservation and social justice.

Finally, Ms. Armstrong rolled out a “10:10” campaign, urging a voluntary commitment to reduce emissions 10% by 2010. While the idea to send a message of public will is a strong one, the target is pretty tame, requiring little change, inconvenience or financial commitment, and is simply not enough. If anything, it may send a message that true public will is lacking.

Has she fallen into one of her film’s traps of symbolic gestures over real change? Or perhaps as a Brit, she has does not fully appreciate that for the average American, 10% is easy. While Europeans have already captured the low hanging fruit, we clearly have not. For this “side of the pond”, I have been a proponent of 20:20 or more, which is 20% via reduction and 20% more via offsetting.

Whatever your commitment, all of this attention is well timed. A strong populist message to the UN and the climate delegates needs to be sent!”

Read more: global warming

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Friday, March 27, 2009 – Bill and I took a vakashun day; saw SlumDogMillionaire at local theatre ($2.00) a ticket for matinees, grabbed a sandwich at Corner Bakery, walked. beautiful.

Attaching some pictures of Chico in March, and we’ll go back up April 1st, Wed for 3 weeks and then hopefully down for a while. way to look thin: stand pressed against huge tree; it’s bigger than me; whaddya know.

I’ve been remiss in writing these days. Have read many first time books, most of which I think are great. The last one I read is Trail of Crumbs, Kim Sunee, and there’s an accent over the first e; do they still refer to that as accent agu? Have to ask my French speaking friends. The author interspersed or ended each chapter with heavenly recipes, but I am not a big cook and since we are in a small pool house with no oven, glanced over them. I love memoir; each so differnt, courageous to write!.

Finished my second book Writing on the Fly – it has one good blurb and i am getting two others, or in the process of finding same.
I weave things in regarding the Baha’i Faith and I like my writing in this book, more contemporary, edgy, i’m pleased.

I just watched Tess of the D’urbeville’s and cried at the end. Thought I had no tears left in me, but it was wonderful. i read Thomas Hardy in my early days and liked him a lot.

okay i’ll get back to doing this. But remember i told my book club last night they should read Spiritual Shackles, another first, but they were concerned about the length.

I read everything, more memoir, then nonfiction, and i love good fiction too; but trying to read more stuff of which I study. Not enough time. I give a free writing workshop next week for 4 hours and hi hope people get something out of it. We all need to express who we are, our voice; these are such portentous times.

Seeing Syriana
Esther Bradley-DeTally (1/04/2006)

I write poetry which speaks of white skin color privilege, of seeing underwear ads, with handsome white, thirty-somethings, trim in their Hanes, pornographic in their Victoria’s Secret. Sometimes I attempt a math-impaired Haiku; how do you Haiku frustration, absence, a feeling of Gargoyles 24, Unicorns 0. It was the film that did it. “Syriana,” a word or words manufactured like Xerox, or Aluminium, Ltd., or Pepsi moment did it. Syriana, a friend said, “means a carved-out territory, made up of whatever lands are useful to the dominant powers that need oil.”

Long story short, the film is brave, profound, staggering in its mirror of global duplicity. Some how the bad guys seem in charge, and urgency screams at us to look. Memory’s soft song, “Do you know where you’re going to? Do you know, do you know,” ribbons around my brain as my cilia pushes sounds and concepts on a direct route into my heart.

I write of daily moments: the turn of a wrist, hairs caught in a watch band, a tired dark hand clinging to a subway strap; two years of dirt on the homeless lady at California and Lake; conversation at Peets’ sitting at round glossy wooden tables, our laughter vaulting towards Peets high ceiling; moments; shattered and reassembled.

Peace seems like an illusive dancing creature these days, tossed about like an old crouton, nicely mentioned on street corners, politically correct on placards and bumper stickers. Attaining this peace seems like the sound of blossoms falling on rippled water.

If writing verse is “like throwing rose petals down the Grand Canyon,” – at least that’s what the guy who wrote Archie and Mehitabel said; what is working for justice, seeing naked structures of greed, as the guys in the back halls cavort along vortexes of greed for today and tomorrow’s oil? Danger, implosion ahead, standing on the edge of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Scene II in the years 2000 and on. Y2K had nothing on this.

And yet, a voice, voices of those who know of the coming of the Advent of Divine Justice, the witnessing of the spontaneous spawning of ordinary groups coming together for global oneness; unity, begins to be heard. Like a sliver of the moon, this force for a society promised by poets and seers and prophets of old and a prisoner named Baha’u’llah, this curved small ray of moonlight in the darkened sky with no sounds, not even of sounds of blossoms falling, is pointing towards the future; suggesting solutions.

Time will reveal the fullness of moons; our shift away from the shaking frame of a beleaguered mankind; it’s an old jail, and we have to leave; a new race of man will struggle towards its destined spiritual maturity, a webbing of clusters of ordinary people, helping one another; preferring others instead of a self; all in start relief against night’s darkness of greed and hatred. The blossoms seem noiseless but startling white as th