Gaia don't take no shit from compulsive recidivists.

                                                                                                                                               

As I approach the finishing line of the marathon of life - totally rooted, with so many bits hurting that I can't decide what to whinge about first, with blisters on my body and on my soul - every yard counts. 
It is not made any easier by contemplation of the incipient demise of humanity, made inevitable by the inherent design faults in the collective personality of humanity, where nations and their leaders are characterized by greed, xenophobia, prejudice, cynicism, lust for power and lack of compassion.  

Action on climate change is limited to outright denial (I'm looking at you, Trump, you jerk, and you, Morrison, you smarmy hypocrite), tokenism and obfuscation.

It took the dinosaurs 33 thousand years to become extinct after the Yucatan asteroid. Humans, who have it in their power to do something about it, will get there in the mere blink of a  paleontological eye.                    
Is there not already ample prodromal evidence of the Gaia Hypothesis? Will the planet not protect itself by eradicating the noxious infestation of homo sapiens?

It has been suggested that wisdom can be achieved by the contemplation of a river rock. Their exposure to the buffeting of the currents is like our exposure to life itself: roughness and angularity surrendered to its passage, each worn down by time to smoothness and symmetry.                                                               

Maybe wisdom is acceptance. Is it wise to rage against the dying of the light? Is wisdom not, indeed, merely the acceptance of things that can't be changed, and going gentle into that good night?

How shall it profit a 70-year-old man in a tiny village in the antipodes to spend his days in rage and bitterness, fulminating against the ignorance and gullibility of mankind and the unadulterated evil of Rupert Murdoch?  

Perhaps one must accept what one cannot change, or perish.

But if we all do that, we will.