In the long run we are all dead

It rained more than usual yesterday—if such a thing as “normal” even exists these days. I remember 2023—specifically February—when it rained so heavily that a landslide occurred, sweeping the walls of the lot next to my house out into the middle of the street, causing a traffic jam and widespread panic. That image is very vivid—perhaps because not much time has passed since then, and life was much the same—but I miss not being on the brink of a historic climate crisis. Frankly, I am exhausted by living through historic periods, though almost every period is historic. I don’t recall simpler times, even though I was young—which shouldn’t have been an issue.

This year, specifically, is an El Niño year, and I’m amazed that the majority of the population doesn’t grasp the gravity of our situation. The mayor of my city is cutting down trees that would serve to mitigate damage in strategic locations—areas with a history of severe flooding—and getting fined over 500,000 reais for it (fines paid out of our own pockets). Eduardo Pimentel, Eduardo Leite, Eduardo Bolsonaro—the three most scoundrelly “Eduardos” to ever set foot on Brazilian soil. It’s truly hard to avoid succumbing to fatalism these days; I wonder if that’s the answer, yet a small part of my soul refuses to give up hope. Maybe turn anprim? Nah, I wasn’t a victim of MKUltra.

I’m almost certain I have a tendency to flee from peace of mind in the same way that Eduardo Bolsonaro flees from the consequences of his crimes. If I were myself, I would certainly be the modern equivalent of Agrigento, except my volcano is my choice to continue informing myself, even knowing that it harms me. But if I don’t inform myself, I will most likely only repress the idea that sooner or later the climate crisis will explode in my face like in a cartoon, where the villain fires a shot and the hero ends up putting his finger in the muzzle and the gun explodes.

I think I should end it here, end with the title? After all, as Keynes argues, in the long run we are all dead.