Watch out world

Apparently I am having a baby.

This is totally unexpected but welcome, as with my medical history (severe endometriosis) we thought that if we did ever try (which we weren't doing at the time) it would be an arduous, long effort, possibly punctuated by IVF or IVM. Nature had other plans.

There are no guarantees, but if it does work out, maybe I will be a mommy mummy blogger after all!

?

What can you say about a government that pussyfoots around the banning of plastic bags (oh, we'll introduce a law in 2009 if retailers don't take action, who cares what's best for the environment and what all right-thinking people want) yet ignores the protests of millions of its citzens to take part in what many have called an illegal war.

Priorities, you're doing them wrong.

(And I'm applying for citizenship exactly why?)

Further to my post on peak oil, something to illustrate just how dependent on oil we are:

REPOSSESSION

Down the long leg of the catwalker fishnet melts

to meshwork tobacco spittle. A black liquid garter.

Asphalt picks itself up – each scaly skin spread

between kerbstones is pulling free with a bass

pop. Every city suddenly a kicked nest of adders

coiling together into a spitting rope of pitch.

All along their spines household molecules un-

crack – hydrocarbon vertebrae whose Lego atoms

snap back into line in a chiropracty of electron-volts.

Cars at last cough up. Judder to a stop. Dig ignition-

deep to sputter swart apologies across the crisp white

shirts of their hosts. And every sump on its scrap-heap

bumps and boils its box-black kettle – rejoices openly

as through the stratosphere water-vapour and dioxide

recombine: weave fine mists of oil to drop charred

tapeworms of cirrus. Videos slime in the hand like

jumbo choc-ices. CDs in the rack pucker and shrink

to mushy black peas. Dentures gum up the works

jarred into toothless gaga. Those precise blocks

and avenues of electronics crinkle dark and

mediaeval. In the fast lane of the bowling alley

a caviar cannonball splashes ten full bottles of

devil’s milk – while those of the mobile who gas

this world down to its last nook into Porlock hell

shriek as they peel hot tar from lobes – Yes every

biro mothball racquet sags bleeds gutters

till the black string vest of tributaries resolves –

untangles towards tonsured ozone. Finally

we notice. On satellite-replays Presidents track

their sloed candyfloss economies writhing round

earth’s spindle – are caught on camera in black lip-

stick salve leaning to kiss the screen goodbye – and for

that moment the globe has a single gathering purpose

as a girl glances up from her fractions to witness

those filaments merge to a mother of twisters –

merge and rise and take her place. She watches

the whole black mass lift up and out into daytime

where it balls itself – steadies a wobbling edge

against blue to sling there its low fat circle. Crude

and glossy. She sees the birth of the full black moon

that lights our ways with dark.

(copyright Mario Petrucci 2008)

Upholding standards

Tonight I wrote my first letter to the editor of the Guardian. Why? One of their articles used 'off of' instead of 'off'. I hope it was just something that the copy editor missed and not a sign of things to come. Seriously, this is the home of the English language.

(And yes, I totally feel like some outraged dowager from the Home Counties, which is amusing for a girl from Brisbane, Australia.)

Peak oil, people

Peak oil is the point in time when the maximum rate of global petroleum production is reached, after which the rate of production enters its terminal decline. If global consumption is not mitigated before the peak, an energy crisis may develop because the availability of conventional oil will drop and prices will rise, perhaps dramatically (definition courtesy of Wikipedia).

I don't pretend to have a good understanding of this, but what I am becoming convinced of is that we are almost at the point of peak oil. We're almost there. Seriously. Estimates of peak oil range from 2012 to 2017, some up to 2035. I.e. tomorrow. For most people, driving a car (in its current form at least) is not going to be economically viable anymore (which gives me hope in terms of global warming), for everyone, prices of pretty much everything that requires transport are going to rise dramatically. Air travel is once again going to be the province of the rich, which again is great for global warming but leaves this little Australian high and dry. And wars will continue to be fought, even more desperately, for oil.

I hate seeing those emails that surface occasionally telling drivers to boycott buying petrol on a certain day to protest against fuel price rises. To me it completely misses the point. Yes, there are obscene profits being made, but people, we are RUNNING OUT of oil. The price is going to go up no matter what.