I'm sick of the so-called "climate change" debate.
When did we stop calling pollution "pollution"?
I want "green" initiatives to work because I'm sick of breathing, eating and drinking pollution.
No offense, but I couldn't care less if the snows are melting on Mt. Kilimanjaro. Really.
And I'd like to own an electric car because I'm sicking of paying more and more for gasoline and hearing the chorus of cries about "peak oil."
No offense to the blue-billed flapjack of south Narnia, but I don't want an electric car in order for it to flourish as an organism.
Most documentary film watchers know of the dismal decision by General Motors in the late 90s to kill the electric car, the EV1.
My dad was a milkman in the 1950s in a small Ontario city, and drove an electric delivery truck to make his rounds. The vehicle had range enough for him to do his route and return to the dairy. The electric truck was also well able to keep up with traffic -- the speed of which is the same today as it was then.
Interesting that my father had technology available to him in the 1950s that I don't have access to today.
Engineers working on the next generation of electric decry battery life. "The batteries are too big and don't hold enough juice!"
Why wouldn't electric cars have solar panels on their roofs to make up for this?
Decades from now, after we've fried the circuit board of our civilization, people will look back on this generation and most of the generations of the 20th Century and marvel at the sheer stone-stupid fuckheadedness of our race.
Between wind, sun and waves, we've got all the power sources we need.
Instead of harnessing them, we marched behind the Dick Cheneys of the world, and their culture of built-in obsolescence, right off a cliff.
If I'm going to go off a cliff, I demand to go in an electric car.