Wednesday, 1 January 2020

New Year Post 2020


2019 was not a good year.

Let me elucidate: 2019 was an extremely bad year. It started bad, kept getting worse, and ended with me in a hospital bed with a temperature of 41.7 degrees Celsius, being pumped full of antibiotics intravenously four times a day. In between I got hardly anything done: writing became something I did not even want to think about.

I lost one good friend: Jerry Larson, known to friends as Harry Hamid, and a daughter: Juno, my Neapolitan Mastiff. I did gain a couple of babies, Vesta and Shaka. So.

I drew some cartoons, not as many as I might have wanted. Motivation became more and more elusive. Why should I do anything when almost nobody cared?

I left all social media in 2019, probably permanently and forever. The one I was still using, VKontakte, suspended my account on plainly fictitious grounds, making it perfectly clear that their only reason to suspend me was to silence me. I have had it with social media.

Meanwhile, personally, my life was crumbling. I endured extreme stress, waking up in the middle of the night and lying awake for hours. I had to literally force myself to get out of bed in the morning to face the day.

In Hindunazistan the Modi regime created situation after situation that wrecked the country beyond repair. In this very town violence caused curfew to be imposed for weeks, and it may and probably will break out again anytime soon.

Being put in this kind of situation made me decide some things:

First, I have to get out of dentistry. I have never pretended to like this profession, but now it is literally killing me. I can’t get the last thirty years of my life back and start over, but I can try and at least see to it that my next thirty years are at least tolerable.

Secondly, since I don’t know how to earn a living at anything else, and I can’t take years off to retrain (and then compete for employment against people less than half my age) I can only try and earn money writing.

Third, in India it is impossible to earn money writing.

Therefore I need to find agents and publishers elsewhere.

And I need to write more, and hope to find success somewhere, sometime.

Meanwhile, I will have to earn a living however I can, because I can’t go on with dentistry.

Because of my hospitalisation I couldn’t even draw my usual New Year’s cartoon. Last year on 1 January I had predicted that the final implosion of the Amerikastani Empire would begin in 2019. The end of the year saw Amerikastani war criminals crouching fearfully on the roof of the Amerikastani “embassy” in Baghdad as Iraqi security forces prevented Iraqi protestors from ripping them limb from limb: the same Iraqi security forces whose members those Amerikastani war criminals had murdered the day before. I submit that my prediction was correct.

So, a happy 2020 to you all, with more writing from me, and damnation to all things Amerikastani.

Shadow On A Wall

I wrote this song for David Rovics. He liked it. If he ever gets around to recording it, I may paint illustrations to go with the words and music. Or I might even do it if nobody sings it, ever. Not being capable of singing better than a cicada, I can't, anyway.

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Keiko on a summer day, skipping down the street
Met her friend Kenji, they talked about sweets
How much they missed them, and how much they'd eat
When the war was over.

Silver fish in the silver sky
Finger on a button, death from on high
Atoms blasted to pieces, their agonised scream
Making energies that were someone's dream
And Keiko is a shadow on a wall
Shadow on a wall.
Nothing left at all
But a shadow on a wall.


Far across the sea, men in suits and uniforms
Talk over tea and cake about creating firestorms


Of might and right, of power and race
How Stalin had to be put in his place,
And Keiko is a shadow on a wall
A shadow on a wall
Nothing left of her at all
But a shadow on a wall.

Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the names you say
Did not save Thanh in Vietnam from burning the  same way
Nuclear fire or napalm, it was the same
And it seems nobody is to blame
And Keiko and Thanh are shadows on a wall
Nothing left of them, left of them at all

Arifa in Fallujah, Bushra in Mosul
Irina in Beograd, Hanifa in Kabul
Silver bombs from silver planes, and they went in a flash
Not more than shadows on a wall
Just shadows on a wall
Nothing left of them, left of them at all.

Tomorrow whose daughter will skip down the street
The world laid out at her young feet
And there will be a flash, from somewhere far away
Born of decisions made some other day.
And she will be a shadow on a wall
Like Keiko and her sisters, nothing left at all
Just a shadow on a wall
A shadow on a wall
A shadow on a wall.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2020

Sunday, 13 October 2019

Extinction Inspiration! Or, thoughts on global warming and social collapse to come

My friend Jeremy Parker asked me to write a brief article on global warming and what it means to me for his group, Extinction Rebellion.

Unfortunately, brevity was not exactly possible, as you can see.

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Towards the end of Alan Moore's comic book "Neonomicon", the protagonist, FBI agent Merrill Brears, becomes pregnant; she is, actually, gravid with none other than Great Cthulhu. Visiting the incarcerated serial killer and former FBI agent Aldo Sax, she tells him about it, and mentions that "we (humans) are pretty much vermin", and that when Cthulhu is born he will do something about us.

Cthulhu, unfortunately, is not real, and even Moore's comic is set in an alternate universe, with minor differences from this one. But if humans are vermin, the proof is all around us.

Recently, in Mumbai, India, government officials took a decision to destroy a forest, Aarey Forest, to set up a metro station. The reason given by environment ministry officials to agree to this destruction was that the meeting was in Marathi so they could not understand what was being said. This is less than a convincing reason.  In any case, after over two thousand trees were chopped down, in the face of public protests (the protestors were summarily arrested by police, of course, though the protests were peaceful), the Supreme Court finally told the government not to cut down any more.

Meanwhile, the march to strip the planet of all its usable resources not just continues but is accelerating. In Brazil the Bolsonaro regime has stated its "right" to destroy the Amazon rainforest if it wants to. In Australia the Great Barrier Reef is being murdered. Even the old leash on capitalist greed, the economics of exploitation, has been abandoned in the case of the shale oil industry in America. Even if we ignore the destruction of bedrock and contamination of groundwater by fracking,  shale oil is far more expensive to extract than it fetches in terms of profit. In the past, therefore, it would not have been extracted. Now, however, the only thing that capitalism cares about is the shortest term profit, expressed in the next quarterly report. The people making the decisions no longer care the slightest bit about the long term future of their own companies, let alone the state of the planet; long before the loan repayments become due, they'll have taken their obscene salaries and bonuses and moved on to another job anyway.

Therefore, in the modern capitalist neoliberal system, we can not depend on anything at all to put the brakes on runaway greed. Corporations that have given themselves a legal requirement to seek profit by any "legal" means do not care about what you, I, or the man next door might think. If we get obstreperous enough to be a nuisance, they have ways to get rid of us. They can unleash the police as on the Aarey Forest protestors, they can call them "economic terrorists" (with ties to, who else, Russia) if they block pipeline routes, or, if all else fails, they can simply manufacture a "controlled opposition" to act as a gatekeeper channelling protests to eye catching but harmless (to them) and ultimately pointless directions.

I am not one of the fans of Ms Greta Thunberg; while I admire her personal sincerity and her determination to make herself heard, I am one hundred percent certain that she is being used as part of this controlled opposition. That she got the publicity denied the ecological defenders literally paying with their lives, such as in Central America, is proof enough if any was needed. Hence I will ignore her and Extinction Rebellion in the rest of this article. At best, they are irrelevant; at worst, they are part of the entire syndrome. (Sorry, Mr Parker!)

Meanwhile, we are faced with three major truths that nobody wants to talk about. These are:

First, the fact that global warming has become locked in a vicious cycle, where it has achieved the  status of a self-perpetuating monster, not unlike an avalanche rolling down one of the increasingly few mountains that still have snow. As the Siberian permafrost melts, for instance, huge amounts of methane are released into the atmosphere, which in turn increases the trapping of solar heat, in turn melting more permafrost, in turn increasing the methane released, and so on. The Antarctic and Arctic ice melt faster, raising sea levels, forcing people to migrate from coastal regions, compelling them to use whatever they can find as fuel for such essentials as cooking, in turn releasing more carbon dioxide into the air, and so on and on. Fanciful plans for creating "sustainable energy" will be overtaken long before they get anywhere, certainly before they become effective and widespread enough to make a difference. In fact, as things stand, even if we were to stop all fossil fuel use completely today, some of these factors are already out of control and can no longer be reined in.

Secondly, as long as humans insist on living as though they can continue to live and consume as they have been doing, there is no hope. Even as birthrates plummet in the "global North" (with concomitant racist rants alleging a conspiracy to commit a "white genocide"), birth rates are still rising in much of Africa and politicians in countries like Uganda and Tanzania are claiming that they are not rising fast enough. The planet is not compartmented into airtight segments. The cause may be in one continent today (more people, meaning more need for food, meaning more land cleared for cultivation) but that means more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere of the entire planet and in turn means more global warming.

Not that the Africans (or Indonesians, or North Indians, or Pakistanis) can altogether be blamed for their explosive breeding. For poor people , and by poor I mean literally surviving day to day, the only way to hedge against the future is to breed a lot of children. Even if three or four of them die before reaching adulthood, another five or six might survive, and of those, one or two might be kind enough to take care of you in your old age. What other options do you have? To starve in the gutter?

Ironically, these poor are poor in large part due to the same high standards of living that permit the "global Northerners" to be able to afford to have fewer children. They have shifted much of their manufacturing to the "third world", they have shifted the sourcing of just about all the resources they need for all their manufacturing to the same "third world", they have even made a practice of exporting their rubbish to that same "third world"; and to make certain that this will continue, they have foisted venal puppets as rulers in that "third world". Can anyone believe that they'll want to stop living in the way that they have become accustomed, and in the way that they have presented as an ideal for aspiring people across the planet, so as to stop global warming, something that much of their information sources are busy brainwashing them into believing is not a real thing at all? And since their capitalist societies are run by corporations hunting for any way to make a profit, looking for more, not less, consumption, how exactly do you think it might be possible?

Thirdly, the effects of mass migration. We have already seen a small sample as a result of the terrorist aggression against Syria and the NATO destruction of Libya. As resources run out, including potable water, sea levels rise, food becomes scarce and the heat literally kills, people will start moving towards any possible direction that might offer even a temporary haven. They will move in gigantic numbers, and they will be very well armed and willing to fight. What happens when they come up against "global North" countries determined to not let them in? I'm not talking about the "invasion" by a paltry million or two unarmed and helpless refugees that is already causing so much heartburn and right wing politics in Europe. I am talking about an actual invasion by tens or hundreds of millions of armed and desperate people looking for safety, who will be more than willing to eliminate anyone standing in the way. What happens then, air strikes on them using tactical nukes? Burning them with napalm and white phosphorus? Chemical warfare? Let me remind you that the effects of Agent Orange are still being felt in Vietnam, and that warfare is one of the most environmentally destructive forces on the planet.

Refugee boat: The ship of things to come.


Therefore, taking all these factors together, I do not think a mass population collapse, probably a civilisational collapse, can be prevented. Possibly human extinction cannot be prevented. This is, actually, not at all a bad thing. As Agent Brears said to Sax, we are vermin, and vermin need extermination.

We have done enough damage. The earth has survived mass extinctions in the past, and will survive them again. But in the past they were happenstance; this is the first one that will be because of a species' greed and its conviction that nothing can possibly erase it from the pages of history. And the faster we die off, the fewer species we drag down with us. That's a good thing, right?

Like the proverbial frog in the slow boiling pot, the water is already too hot to escape. At best the damage can be restricted to not too fatal (to the rest of the planet) burns.

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Note to readers: I'm back, I'm cartooning, and I will begin writing again. The last few months were horrible, and I have no great hopes from the next few, but, at least, writing and drawing are things I can do.

Special mention to my friend Charlie Ehlen who dropped a response to my cartoon blog showing me that he still cared. I am writing again, Charlie, in great part for you.