An intro of what we're here to talk about. The year is 2025. [ __ ] that happened fast. The sun is shining on a warm December day and the new normal of warmer than average temperatures. You sip your coffee, the second one of the day, and wonder if this spring will be as rainy as last year's because that totally [ __ ] up your garden, and come to think of it caused some serious flooding out in the Midwest. They said prices would skyrocket because of the awful harvest but you didn't seem to notice, prices continued to climb no matter what was going on. Maybe this climate change stuff is blown out of control. How the [ __ ] can you know? You're not a goddamn scientist. There was that IPCC report 7 years ago saying that the point of no return would be in 2030, and nothing seems to have changed even though that's now only 5 years away. This is a weird time, you think to yourself, where supposedly the planet is dying, and based on the wildfires in Australia and the fact that it was 40 degrees above average last week, it seems like a pretty fair assessment, yet we all still have to go to work every day and listen to some [ __ ] tell us what we're doing wrong on some report that doesn't matter. Bifurcation. That's the term you're looking for, a word you hadn't heard since grad school. The term meant for when you experience two seemingly opposite things going on at the same time. Should you save for retirement? Will retirement exist? Not that you have the money. Maybe you should invest in those buckets of MREs that supposedly last for 30 years. Is there a future for your kids, your nieces, your nephews? Speaking of which, you forgot to get one of them a birthday present, and it's coming up next week. You know they probably won't really play with it, not for long anyway, but you're obligated to do so, and in doing so, will buy more plastic to shortly fill those overflowing landfills. It feels weird. It's like you've got this sinking feeling following you around, like we're all acting like everything's normal, but deep down we know it's not, but then again, maybe it's just you. Then again, thinking back to that landfill, you know that every diaper you ever [ __ ] in when you were your nephew's age is still sitting there, not even beginning to degrade. There's some kind of poetic justice in there somewhere. You take another sip and check your phone. Work emails, ads. God damn it, somehow those [ __ ] MRE buckets popped up on Facebook as an advertisement. How the [ __ ] do they do that? Speaking of which, you figure if we really were [ __ ], all those super-rich people would want to keep the planet alive, at least for their own kids, although those same [ __ ] have bunkers scattered across the globe and are trying to get to Mars somehow. Space travel to Mars seems more feasible than global catastrophe that we have ample evidence for. You start recalling some dates. In 2030, the point of no return from that report, you'll be 43, and as early as 2040 we may begin to run out of fertilizer, decimating the ability of the destroyed soils across the planet's ability to produce food. Eight years later, the oceans will have acidified so much they will be left without fish, at which point you'll be 61. And two years later, in 2050, 80% of the world's underground freshwater reserves will be tapped out, so chances are by 63 you'll be dead or living in dire straits. Historically speaking, that's still better than most of human history. And in 2074, if you make it to 87, there might not be any farmable land left. It sounds pretty hopeless, so instead of thinking about it you light up a cigarette. You had quit a few years back, but the urge started coming back. Maybe some of it is that old mentality, smoke them if you got them, and maybe some of it is that you'd rather give yourself a meaningful outlet to focus on, trying to quit, instead of the alternative: waiting. So what can you do? We aren't recycling our way out of it, nor is driving an electric car, even if you could afford it, going to make any meaningful change. My name is Andy, and together with Elliot, we are The Poor Proles Almanac. We are poor proles, and we've got some [ __ ] to talk about. You can find us on Spotify, iTunes, and wherever you listen to podcasts. In this podcast, we're going to be tackling the issues surrounding global warming and the impending economic catastrophe of global capitalism and how that will impact community building and self-sufficiency. Our hope is you listen, learn some things, and apply some things, and call us out on some [ __ ] if we're wrong. It doesn't do anyone any good if we [ __ ] up. By no means are we experts in any of these areas, and that's kind of the point. There will come a day when you need to do things that you're not an expert in, and it requires a foundational knowledge in a significant amount of these areas. Areas such as: gardening, forest management, technology, chemistry, self-defense, engineering, community building, the [ __ ] up history that led us to where we are today, as well as plenty of other subject areas. No one can know everything, and that's part of why community is so important as we start to consider the world that will have to be rebuilt as this one crumbles. If you enjoy what you hear, you can help fund our work on Patreon and join us on Discord. With that, we look forward to this conversation, and instead of focusing on the collapse, we're thinking about what we can build instead. Together we can make a better world. For sources and to read more about this subject, visit: www.agroecologies.org To support this podcast, join our patreon for early episode access at https://www.patreon.com/poorprolesalmanac For PPA Writing Content, visit: www.agroecologies.org For PPA Restoration Content, visit: www.restorationagroecology.com For PPA Merch, visit: www.poorproles.com For PPA Native Plants, visit: www.nativenurseries.org To hear Tomorrow, Today, our sister podcast, visit: www.tomorrowtodaypodcast.org/
