Why Ecocide Is the Perfect Revenge on Our Children

Subject: Quick Anthropocene Question
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

Hey, Rachel,

Any tips for a terrified new parent? I have this nightmare in which my daughter is wandering a global desert, knife-fighting other scavengers for the remaining supplies of canned food. Not too often, just every other night. How do you cope?

Best,

Martin

Subject: Re: Quick Anthropocene Question
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

Hello, Martin,

I understand. When I look at my sons, I worry about the planet. It’s not dying nearly fast enough. Our little parasites might get to enjoy two, maybe even three decades before the end. And what kind of justice is that?

Think of what they’ve stolen from us. Before motherhood, I saw dozens of different skylines. I learned languages, dances, and jokes, all for their own sake. I left every shop with a new treasure, and every weekend with a new memory. I didn’t know a single “Frozen” song. It was a beautiful life, and its loss won’t go unavenged.

I’m sure you feel the same way.

At first, I relied on community. It takes a village to doom a child—just look at how our parents united to gut the rain forest, bathe seals in oil, and turn coral into a mere memory. They provided us with a simple model; ecocide is as much about honoring them as punishing the next generation. Sadly, few agree, and fewer are willing to try.

Sure, some of my friends came through. They scattered ziplocks and lithium batteries like apple seeds, and I love them for it. But most let me down, riding bicycles over my dreams. My own brother started composting, just to keep living above sea level. We don’t speak anymore.

It’s a selfish world, full of clean-air addicts. Society pays lip service to mothers, but it let an ideal ozone hole die. Suddenly, I was on my own.

I remember holding my firstborn in my arms and coming to the horrifying realization that he was a Brayden. Nothing else fit. Brayden was as destined for lacrosse as Lucifer was to fall, my freedom and savings the cost of that benighted destiny.

Then Brayden puked on me, and I declared war on the future.

My husband thinks I’m joking. He’s a fool. Our other children may have their own names and faces, but they’re all Braydens. Thieves of cruise vacations and retirement funds. They deserve McConnell and Manchin’s bipartisan vision of our future.

So I got active. I stopped waiting for Earth to die, and invested in Chevron. I switched to an all-beef diet. I bought a big, dumb truck to haul every cell phone, laptop, and e-reader that’s ever died on me to a nature preserve. I call it “Battery Park.”

It wasn’t easy. I kept Brayden’s picture in my wallet to remind me what mattered: making his world a wasteland, just like mine, after the fourth “Moana” rewatch in two days. I’m glad he likes seawater: there’s plenty in his future.

With my own house in order, it was time to organize. I founded Extinction Counter-Revolution, a sane answer to the misinformation and terror of survival activists. Our newsletter helps readers understand that ecocide is a two-sided issue, and that our side is correct. For the low price of tomorrow, we can enjoy private planes and plastic spoons today. Why not join?

I know that it’s tempting to give up. Headlines about carbon capture, new solar-energy records, and colonizing Mars are designed to keep you distracted and afraid. They want you to think that your children will live longer, better lives, and that you’re powerless to stop it; that individual actors can’t ruin a planet.

I say bring it on.

This month alone, I’ve written op-eds championing clean coal, federally subsidized whaling, and diverting pipelines through high schools. All composed during Brayden’s endless lacrosse games. He can’t throw or catch, but he can inspire.

Don’t let negativity cloud the truth—we’re doomed. Our children have a better chance of colonizing Narnia than Mars. And getting to this point took hard, focussed work. So, kick back, turn on two air-conditioners, and find something nice to throw away and replace.

Keep fighting. We’re almost there.

Yours,

Rachel Sinclair

Subject: Re: Re: Quick Anthropocene Question
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

nvm ♦