We have all dreamed of living for ever. Possibly even the planet, at some point, imagined itself to be invincible. Then along came humans with their revolutionary industrial activity and started upsetting the natural order. About now Mother Nature must be wondering whether she will even reach the menopause. Reality bites, sweetheart.
So how should the average human respond to this impending doom? Three choices present themselves. First up is the path of true virtue. Your every waking decision must be factored to minimize your footprint on the planet. Don’t fly. Don’t flush. Pass judgment on everyone else whilst you weep over a plate of sustainable steamed spinach at the goddamn wastefulness of it all.
Then there’s the middle-way. You recycle the odd beer can and wipe your behind with green loo roll. You cycle when sunny. Your conscience is salved. It’s a nice, comfy way but one that is taking us anywhere but a nice place.
The final option is all about the future. In short, that there is no future. Only today. Hell, optimism went out with square wheels. Treat every day as if it is your last and one day it will be. So, put your foot down like never before, it’s time to enjoy the planet. Why deny yourself its fruits? These days, self sacrifice is only for those intellectually bankrupt enough to believe they can actually make a difference. It’s far too late. Earth is in the terminal cancer ward with tubes rammed up its nose. It’s dying for a cigarette and so are you. Go on, light up and enjoy one last gasp together. Who says the collapse of planet Earth need be all doom and gloom? Take a look at the major corporations, the politicians, the neighbours across the way with their big cars and whirlpool jacuzzis. They’re all having a laugh. They appreciate the virtue of living for the moment. Ignore the do-gooders. History will articulate their actions as no more than the final Band-aid to be slapped on the Thames Barrier as it sinks beneath the rising tide.
This book is for all those who are courageous enough to cease pretending that they are doing something worthy. It’s a fifty point manifesto that’s honest enough to encourage what no-one dares admit. Ostensibly, it tells you how to f** k the planet, royally, with a great, steaming rocket shoved up its overblown behind. It tells you how to murder polar bears, mangle seabeds, eradicate honeybees, torch large forests, trigger a nuclear apocalypse, spread killer germs and become morbidly obese. In addition, instructions abound for how to create the most environmentally challenged eco-fashion label, manufacture an excessively extravagant rock band, throw the party to end all parties and, of course, how to die (because immortality doesn’t exist, remember?) in a suitably wasteful manner.
The guidance in this book is strictly reserved for those who are deadly serious about ruining the planet in the shortest time possible. Some suggestions require minimal effort; some you might, quite laudably, already be engaged in. Some demand like-minded participants, others require individuals with the rarefied wealth and political access only a few can boast. But do not fret; you’ll be surprised at the support you’ll be able to count on. There’s something here for everyone.
Even if you pursue only a modest selection of the suggestions that follow, take heart from the knowledge that you have contributed to Mother Earth’s mid-life crisis. In fact, you will have played a part in the most seismic chapter of her existence. Your dreams of immortality might not be realised, but your actions will change the course of history. Enjoy the party my friend, you did in fact make your mark on the Earth.