Ah, those crazy, madcap Chinese. So wise. So inscrutable. So very many of them. What are they playing at, do you suppose? For as long as I have been reading (and writing) about peak oil, I have been reading about the Chinese, and their wild push to Westernize. More cars! More roads! More power! But why? They hate the West. Why would they want to emulate a culture they find offensive? Wrong question.
The question to ask is this: Why are the Chinese so bent on using up all of the oil? I’ve long had my suspicions, so I have to ask: Do they know what they are doing? The Chinese, with well over a billion people milling about, can easily ramp up their oil use and seriously hasten the downside of global oil product after it peaks. And then they can keep demanding more oil until they force the depletion curve over a cliff. But why would they want to do that? Why would they want to do the very thing that would pretty much speed the end of Western civilization as we know it? Oh, wait – I just answered my own question there, didn’t I?
The Chinese produce something like 40 million bicycles a year. They were, until recently, quite the total bicycle society. They have functional mass transit and low energy homes. Their population is not used to being Western, so even now, it would be very easy for the Chinese to revert back to their original low-oil lifestyle with very little disruption. They could use up all the oil, ruin the West, and go right back to being Chinese and never bat an eye. They would, though, quietly smile, knowing what they had done.
The funny thing is, there’s not a thing you or I can do about it. They can play the “We want to be like you!” game until oil goes to $400 a barrel, and no one will think anything of it. No one will think to blame them. At some point, we will all be too busy fending for ourselves to see what happened and why – and who sped up the drop. But now you know: In the big dinner plate of life, we are General Tso’s Chicken.
Pass the soy sauce, Yuan.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The gloves come off. The claws come out.
You know me. I’m a nice guy, more than willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But if there is no doubt? Watch out.
On December 21, 1988, Pan Am Flight 103, from London to New York, blew up over Lockerbie, Scotland. Two hundred and seventy people lost their lives. In January of 2001, Abdelbaset Ali Mohaned Al Megrahi, a Libyan, was convicted of the bombing and sentenced to life in prison for the event. He was serving that sentence when a doctor examined him, proclaimed that he had advanced prostate cancer, and should be released on humanitarian grounds and returned to Libya to live his last days. He was released in August 2009 and returned to a hero's welcome. As of July of 2010, Megrahi is alive and well.
Now, as it turns out, Megrahi’s examination, diagnosis and repatriation were all arranged by British Petroleum in return for some consideration by Libya for a deal with BP for oil rights in that country. And that subtle shaking noise you just heard beneath your feet? That would be the Devil himself, shuddering in disgust. Even the Prince of Darkness, it seems, has higher moral standards than British Petroleum.
It’s one thing to screw up out of greed and laziness and corner-cutting and have your oil rig blow up. It’s quite another to go considerably out of your way to aid a convicted terrorist and a very unpleasant regime that quite honestly hates you anyway, just because you think you can make some money off the deal. Money made over two hundred and seventy dead bodies. Money made because you freed their murderer, and you didn’t even agree with him or his ideology. You just wanted the chance to make the money, with no concern for honor, pride, ethics or morals. This takes it to a whole new level. British Petroleum is neither lazy nor greedy. British Petroleum is pure evil.
Now it’s true that various elected officials here in the United States are looking into BP’s actions, but we are talking about things that happened in other countries, so there was really no crime committed here on US soil – unless you count the very presence of BP itself, and I do. And by now, you know merely boycotting your local BP station will have no impact whatsoever on BP the corporation. In a perfect world, which this is obviously not, BP would be removed from the US and all of its upper management, world-wide, required to finish the terms of Megrahi’s life sentence. Every last one of them. But that’s not going to happen, either. The Scottish Government will “look in to it,” as will ours, and, in the end, it comes down to this: They got away with it. BP got the guy out of prison and got him sent home, where he lives to this day. At some point, BP will quietly begin its oil operation in Libya, and at some point, someone’s going to be driving around with gasoline that should be dyed very blood red to reflect its true source.
And when it comes to British Petroleum, even the Devil has to step back in awe.
On December 21, 1988, Pan Am Flight 103, from London to New York, blew up over Lockerbie, Scotland. Two hundred and seventy people lost their lives. In January of 2001, Abdelbaset Ali Mohaned Al Megrahi, a Libyan, was convicted of the bombing and sentenced to life in prison for the event. He was serving that sentence when a doctor examined him, proclaimed that he had advanced prostate cancer, and should be released on humanitarian grounds and returned to Libya to live his last days. He was released in August 2009 and returned to a hero's welcome. As of July of 2010, Megrahi is alive and well.
Now, as it turns out, Megrahi’s examination, diagnosis and repatriation were all arranged by British Petroleum in return for some consideration by Libya for a deal with BP for oil rights in that country. And that subtle shaking noise you just heard beneath your feet? That would be the Devil himself, shuddering in disgust. Even the Prince of Darkness, it seems, has higher moral standards than British Petroleum.
It’s one thing to screw up out of greed and laziness and corner-cutting and have your oil rig blow up. It’s quite another to go considerably out of your way to aid a convicted terrorist and a very unpleasant regime that quite honestly hates you anyway, just because you think you can make some money off the deal. Money made over two hundred and seventy dead bodies. Money made because you freed their murderer, and you didn’t even agree with him or his ideology. You just wanted the chance to make the money, with no concern for honor, pride, ethics or morals. This takes it to a whole new level. British Petroleum is neither lazy nor greedy. British Petroleum is pure evil.
Now it’s true that various elected officials here in the United States are looking into BP’s actions, but we are talking about things that happened in other countries, so there was really no crime committed here on US soil – unless you count the very presence of BP itself, and I do. And by now, you know merely boycotting your local BP station will have no impact whatsoever on BP the corporation. In a perfect world, which this is obviously not, BP would be removed from the US and all of its upper management, world-wide, required to finish the terms of Megrahi’s life sentence. Every last one of them. But that’s not going to happen, either. The Scottish Government will “look in to it,” as will ours, and, in the end, it comes down to this: They got away with it. BP got the guy out of prison and got him sent home, where he lives to this day. At some point, BP will quietly begin its oil operation in Libya, and at some point, someone’s going to be driving around with gasoline that should be dyed very blood red to reflect its true source.
And when it comes to British Petroleum, even the Devil has to step back in awe.
Monday, July 12, 2010
A sheep in wolf's clothing
I can make myself invisible any time I want. I did it the other day, and it was great. I got tons of stuff done with no interruptions. No one bothered me at all. Matter of fact, people went out of their way to not see me. All I had to do was wear my BP shirt.
The Lovely JoAnn and I usually go top off our truck’s gas tank every Saturday morning after we have breakfast at Tory’s Café. Charlie’s BP station is just down the road from the café, on the corner of Highland and Belleair, and we know everyone there. It’s a Saturday morning ritual. One morning awhile back I was talking to Nan, their Saturday morning attendant, and she said she forgot to take off her BP logo shirt before she went grocery shopping, and couldn’t believe how easy it was to shop when people made a mad scramble to get away from you. Oh, really? Oh, really. Oh, I’ve got to try this. She found us a couple of shirts, and I gave it a go. It was great. People saw that shirt and couldn’t get away fast enough. I was like a seeping leper with a big grin, looking to shake their hand. It was hilarious. I got stuff done.
Of course, I had also told Nan that Charlie should be putting the monthly franchise fees that he normally pays to BP in an escrow account, seeing as how that “paying for the corporate goodwill” thing isn’t exactly working out these days. He’s really paying for being a BP station now, in many, many different ways. And I don’t see that changing for the better any time soon.
So here’s the deal: If you do happen to see someone walking around in a BP shirt, give ‘em a smile. Odds are it wasn’t their fault. Odds are they just work for a local gas station, and they got caught up in it just like everyone else. They are just as worried and angered by it all as you are - maybe more so, considering the extra level of poo they have to put up with these days, just for working for a franchised store. (They probably don’t even really work for BP itself.) So cut them some slack. It’s not like they’re clubbing baby seals. (Unless, of course, they are.)
As for me, I’ve got my BP shirt anytime I want to travel unnoticed and get things done. I can set high-speed shopping records in the grocery store and cruise through the mall unmolested by the kiosk crews. It really does work wonders, but I do draw the line: I won’t wear my BP shirt to the beach. No way.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Radio Interview 7/8/10
Check it out...had a great time doing it; hope you enjoy listening. We talked about the Deepwater Horizon, peak oil, my forthcoming book, Peak of the Devil: 100 Questions (and answers) About Peak Oil, and Jimmy Buffett.
Click here to listen.
Click here to listen.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Peak of the Devil: Part One
The first mention I saw of the Deepwater Horizon’s demise was a small item on The Drudge Report, probably the day after it happened, April 21st. I remember I wrote down the date it blew up, April 20th, on a piece of paper, in case I needed to know it later. It seemed curiously important at the time, although, from that first article, you might not have known it at the time.
About two weeks later, as it all began to unfold, I pedaled down to the beach and collected some sand in a jar. The following Monday I gave this letter to the local newspaper:
Editor:
That jar of pure white sand is still right there on my workbench, labeled “Clearwater Beach, May 2, 2010”. And for now, over two months later, the beach is still ok. However: If you look at a map of Florida and the Gulf of Mexico, you can see that the part of western Florida that sticks out in to the Gulf the most is, in fact, Clearwater Beach. The same Gulf currents that give us that beautiful sand will also send us that ugly oil. It’s only a matter of time. At least my sand is safe.
We’re used to watching hurricanes as they slowly roll across the ocean and there’s not a thing you can do about them. This is a lot like that, but unlike hurricanes, this is entirely our own fault. We can’t blame Mother Nature for this one.
Stay tuned.
About two weeks later, as it all began to unfold, I pedaled down to the beach and collected some sand in a jar. The following Monday I gave this letter to the local newspaper:
Editor:
I’ve buried both parents and I buried my dog. I’ve said goodbye to people I didn’t want to leave and I’ve left places when I didn’t want to go. Last Sunday morning I pedaled my bicycle to Clearwater Beach and locked it up at Pier 60. I walked out on the sand south of the pier and filled a small jar with pure, perfect, brilliant white sand. I put the jar back in my pack and pedaled home. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever done.
I know all things change, but to see all of this change for the worse, for nothing less than laziness and greed, is an astounding disappointment and a thorough condemnation of our misguided priorities. I won’t say I didn’t look back. The view from the top of the bridge is still beautiful - but for how much longer? A week? A month?
That jar of pure white sand is still right there on my workbench, labeled “Clearwater Beach, May 2, 2010”. And for now, over two months later, the beach is still ok. However: If you look at a map of Florida and the Gulf of Mexico, you can see that the part of western Florida that sticks out in to the Gulf the most is, in fact, Clearwater Beach. The same Gulf currents that give us that beautiful sand will also send us that ugly oil. It’s only a matter of time. At least my sand is safe.
We’re used to watching hurricanes as they slowly roll across the ocean and there’s not a thing you can do about them. This is a lot like that, but unlike hurricanes, this is entirely our own fault. We can’t blame Mother Nature for this one.
Stay tuned.
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