George Carlin on “Saving the Planet”

Back in 2007, the inimitable, acerbic George Carlin riffed on climate change, “saving the planet,” and humanity’s temporary place in Earth’s long history. He offered a bracing antidote to the virtue-signaling attitudes of today that myopically place the self-interest of a single generation of humans at the very center of concern.

Hey, not that my grandchildren’s generation doesn’t matter to me! I ache, when I think of the world they face as they grow up. And yet, I do see everyone alive as, on a soul level, choosing to be here during this seemingly climactic era. And I sense that every single one of us has a special, unique mission to fulfill during these turbulent, dramatic, perilous times. That mission may have to do with broadcasting an overriding concern for “the planet,” or it may have to do with the need to express one’s own artistry fully, or it may have to do with inventing new technologies, or growing food, or nurturing people, projects, passions. Or how about Scott Presler, cleaning up homeless camps in Baltimore and LA? Or Rodney Smith, who mows people’s lawns all across the country?  Some people are evolved enough to truly devote themselves to others’ welfare. Others are still trying to figure out who they really are. Both are beloved. Both are of intrinsic value. As my mother (of eight) used to say, “It takes all kinds.” Greta Thunberg’s need to rope everybody into a single organism that will somehow “save the planet” is both foolish and terrifying — both because it does appear she’s being used to fulfill a globalist agenda, and in that, when we “fail,” then what? Do we feel shame, guilt, fear, hate, blame, sorrow, despair until we die? Is that how we want to live, truly live? I think not.

We need to think and feel more deeply about what is really going on during this seemingly “End Times.” It may be; it may not be. We have no idea. Because we have no idea just how powerful Earth herself is to swing herself back into balance, and perhaps, as Carlin notes, to shake us off her surface as just so many fleas.

In which case, we need to be thinking about Death. And we need to be processing our grief, rather than pretending it doesn’t exist or projecting it out in twisted form. As Carlos Casteneda’s Don Juan noted, “death sits on our left shoulder;” always has, always will. No matter what our age, we face this final shedding of the old skin sooner or later.

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