The world is saying no to the question of a green future. Sorry to the Greenies who frequent here - you know that even though I'm by no means a Greenie, I'm utterly sympathetic to your cause, and good on you - but that, my friends, is the case. Copenhagen was the end, as far as I'm concerned. Firstly, because the world's leaders basically showed the reality of that somewhat innate human instinct of numero uno that will, when push comes to shove, be the reason why, if our world is going to die, it will. And secondly, because we didn't even care. Because, truth be told, we're all numero uno, too. "What about our fathers and sons?" asked John Farnham. What about them? Fuck 'em. That's what we've said, now. That's how it will be.

Oh, I know, it was all very exciting when Al Gore - likeable underdog, if there ever was - first stepped onto our screens, with his little pointer stick, and ascended, before his gigantic graph, in that cool academic forklift thing. How boring had Terrorism™ become, hey? What a relief to finally have something new to get all bothered about!? But in the end, of course, Terrorism™ has such a more... workable, tangible narrative. It's immediate. Something bad happens, there's a battle, someone wins, someone loses, the black guy overpowers the evil cowboy. Sure, that's hardly the end of that particular problem - what, with the world running out of oil and all, I'm sure it's bound to come up again - but we don't mind sequels. As long as they're self-contained, and we live long enough to see the ending, and, you know... don't have to do much, but enjoy it from our lounge room, as the planes roar across our flatscreens, and the crowds chant against the evil social overlords in 5.1. That whole Climate Change™ thing... I mean, the ending could be long after we're dead. It's kinda hard to invest emotion in a movie, when you know you won't get to see the ending. And what it wants us to do is really irritating. It wants us to give up our indulgences and our lovely things. It has the audacity to come off our flatscreens. And it has the audacity to ask us to get rid of those flatscreens. Do we really wanna do that?

No. Which is just as well, really - because while we're all worried about not being able to enjoy the Western Advantage™, the world's leaders were really hoping we'd look the other way, while they sorted out the harsh reality that, you know, it's not like anyone is going to just submit to becoming a weaker nation, just because it wants to stop the possible end of the world, all the way down there, somewhere. What is that going to achieve on the global stage? It's suicide, surely. Everyone needs to do it together - and let's just get real about that happening. It aint gonna.

At least our Western leaders were kind enough to grant us the ease of not having to actually confront the reality of what was happening. Unlike, say, India, who had the audacity to be honest about how it refused to weaken itself economically on the global structure for the sake of mankind - somewhere, down there. We thought that was shocking that they would do that - how callous! What an inconsiderate government, making its people rally for the truth of why climate change policies will never actually happen! Ours, like Rudd, were much more convenient. He got in, back when it was a hot topic and such an entertaining relief from the daily Terrorism™ stories, on the green slogans of protecting our future from this new, exciting threat to our egos-slash-existence. Sure, by Copenhagen's end, we committed to basically fuck all - but at least he bothered to continue spewing out those same slogans - empty, meaningless slogans - however contrary to reality they were. Reality sucks. It has no place on our flatscreens.

And what about Obama? Mr Change™, himself! He certainly didn't disappoint in the dramatic speech stakes, did he? Something about coming to Copenhagen for action, not words - fucking brilliant! A great change, after being reduced to the comedy of laughing at Bush's stupidity as a way of side-stepping the reality of the people who own our souls. Obama is all gutsy and inspiring and stuff. I wish he was my Dad. How cool would it have been to have had Obama as your Dad, when you were a teenager? Can't you imagine it? He walks into the classroom when the teacher you hate gives you a fail, and he just demands that pass, and you get it, because how could anyone not submit to the drama of his presence? That teacher you hate acts, and gives you that pass. That's what Dad wants, motherfucker. He doesn't want words. You fucking act!!

Oh, yeah. Okay, so he sold his speeches out, and didn't actually act, at all. But, whatever. I was too spellbound by the headlines and those images of his strong, beautifully determined face, to notice. America didn't care. What, you think they got through defending themselves against the arabs, to just throw away their comfortable, cushy, meaningless lifestyle... sorry, I mean... Freedom™? After they went to so much trouble over the muslims who wanted flatscreens for themselves? Fuck, no. They're not going to defeat those Terrorists, and just to give them up, only to see the Chinese rub their hands together and sit there with the flatscreens. No way.

I was in Dick Smith, the other day, because I'm a smart man, and I know that the best time to buy electronics is the week after Christmas. And you Greenies out there are going to be so proud of me - you know what happened? I actually got into a fight! I was looking at flatscreen TVs, when I overheard one of those pimply young electronics salesmen who was fast on his way to becoming a trained, certified, moral-less prick, selling a 40 inch plasma to a naive, middle-aged suburban couple.

 

"Don't buy a plasma," I instructed then, steamrolling his pitch.

"Why not?" the woman asked.

"Because they eat electricity like nothing else - they take 40 percent more electricity than LCDs. They're destroying the world; that's why nobody buys them anymore."

Silence.

"It will cost you a fortune to run," I offered, instead. "I had one. And when I lost it in my break-up, my electricity bill went down $300! The LCD will save you hundreds, every year - that's what these guys don't tell you."

"Oh," she said, her face looking like it no doubt did when she saw those towers fall. "Oh, I don't think I'd like that."

"No," agreed her husband in the flannelette shirt.

Needless to say, the pimply young salesman didn't like this, at all. But all he could do was stick to his script. "But no, because they watch mostly sport and the kids play video games, so plasma is much more suited to their lifestyle."

"Oh, please," I laughed. "Much more suited to your commission, more like it. That's rubbish. LCD technology has now advanced, the motion problems no longer exist - you're just trying to sell the TV you can't get rid of to anyone who knows flatscreens."

Well, what could he do? He had "What the fuck is your problem, faggot? And why would you do this to my sale?" all over his face - but it's his job to smile, while sticking the knife in you, and this meant he had to continue doing so, even as I stuck mine into him. In the end, they bought the LCD. Then, to rub the salt in, I made him serve me for my own purchase.

"You're looking for an LCD, I take it," he began, his resentment literally pulling his face upwards into a snarl that could not be restrained by his role - even if his voice stuck to the perkiness of it all.

"Naturally," I smiled.

And I bought that LCD. I adore it. And you'd be thrilled to know that I downsized from my last 42 inch plasma, and went for only a measly 33 inches. And I hardly watch it, so it's not like it's really killing the planet - it's rarely turned on. And, truth be told, I only got it because since my ex had taken the 42 inch plasma, the room had felt so... incomplete. There was an entertainment unit that had nothing on it but a telephone, and a gaping big white wall that completely killed the carefully crafted aesthetic of the rest of the room. There needed to be a flatscreen there. It looked wrong without it.

I don't know what will happen to our world - whether the seas will rise and drown us all, or the sky will heat til our bodies burn away. I'm left to trust, based on nothing more than my subjective assessment of the figures in the middle of all this who tell us what is right and wrong. I will choose some for as ultimately superficial reasons, as the right-wingers will choose others. I believe in climate change. I think, no doubt, that something will happen. But I don't think we will do anything about it. And until it does, at least I know my living room is complete. Control is what we will always opt for, in the end. Just ask Obama.