And if so, should I be having more gay sex?

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Dear Hera,

Have we reached the tipping point, and should I just batten down the hatches whilst equally fucking around? I write to you from Wellington in “summer”, there is shit in the sea and broken trees on the street. How many unprecedented weather events till it’s normal, and are we just fucked now? I have been building up my home library and have an emergency kit and supplies, but I now wonder if it is time to take things to the next level. I am single and dating, but should I escalate this and start properly fucking around? I want to change the government and there to be some radical change to address this dumpster fire we are in, but can I equally put my head not in the sand but some nice bosoms?

Regards,

Queer State of Emergency

Dear QSOE,

I mean, fucked is a relative term. However fucked you are, it is always possible to be more fucked, or differently fucked, or fucked in a completely new and unanticipated way that you haven’t meaningfully prepared for. Yes, we have collectively sailed merrily past many “danger ahead, turn back now!” signs and can absolutely expect a whole variety of frightening consequences. Climate change has already killed and will continue to kill many people and animals. Whatever is happening, we are already in it, even if it’s sometimes hard to conceptualise this, on days when the weather is beautiful, and the ponds are overflowing with ducks.  

Will we all die horrible climate-related deaths in our lifetime? I don’t really know. But however our deaths come, whether from tsunamis, pesticides, being gored by wild boars, or simply hit on the head by a falling piece of Elon Musk’s space debris, what doesn’t change is that everyone who has ever been born onto this planet, during times of peace and luxury, or famine and plague, will die, and therefore should use this understanding to live to the very best of their ability, knowing that no matter how prepared they are, they will one day be a chafing dish in the great worm buffet. 

Does this mean we should give up on trying to better prepare ourselves, and simply descend into our bunkers with a lifetime supply of beans and vast quantities of unread Russian literature? Of course not. Even if we have passed several points of “no return”, it doesn’t mean there’s no point in trying to earnestly work toward doing everything we can to reduce harm and make this planet as habitable as possible, for the tamariki who will be left to deal with the long shadow of environmentally negligent “profit forward” policies. If that means shooting one or two politicians out of canon into the sun, I am all for it. “Fuck the future” is a hedonistic right-wing political philosophy, and therefore, we should automatically be against such cravenly lazy and selfish thinking.

Geopolitically, it’s hard to know what to do, but we should at least try to oust the people who aren’t thinking beyond their own apocalypse bunkers, and channel our political energy into preparing for disaster resilience, funding things like hospitals and schools, enshrining workers’ rights, and protecting our country from profit-based environmental degradation and privatisation. These ideas should be uncontroversial to anyone who enjoys healthcare, breathable oxygen and small everyday luxuries, like not having our water supplies riddled with effluence. 

Everyone who lives in New Zealand should ideally have some emergency supplies, because we live in one of the biggest natural disaster simulators on the planet, and even if you won’t live to see Kevin Costner’s Waterworld become a reality, you never know when there might be a catastrophic earthquake or devastating solar flare. Obviously, being prepared for emergencies is an unequivocally good thing, and I would never discourage anyone from making sure they have bottled water, canned food and basic necessities on hand. 

It’s funny you mention your personal library, because I have the same paranoia. I’ve started buying more physical copies of second-hand books, in case the power grid fails and I have no way to access Agatha Christie. Maybe this is a little delusional, because in an emergency scenario, a shortage of Hercule Poirot isn’t likely to be my biggest problem. But it makes me feel a little better. 

However. The idea that we can protect ourselves by purchasing exactly enough rice and dried legumes to see us safely through our increasingly miserable natural lives in a worst-case scenario is a billionaire’s fantasy. It’s just not realistic, and even if it was, surely nobody (besides maybe Peter Thiel) would be happy to sit around eating NASA-quality mac and cheese rations while their community starves around them. The idea that you can singlehandedly micromanage an extinction-level event, with Excel spreadsheets and hoarded antiseptics, is an American survivalist fantasy. If the worst happens, it is our relationships and cooperation with our neighbours and community that will be most important, because nobody wants to perform their own dentistry. Yes, by all means, stock up on matches. But the best thing to do (besides voting out the “eat the young” party) is building relationships with your neighbours and community, and being willing to step in and help when their house floods, or they break an ankle, or their roof blows off in a storm. 

If your neighbours also happen to have “nice bosoms,” then two birds one stone. 

Which leads me to the final part of your question. If succumbing to gay hedonism is what your heart secretly desires, why are you waiting for the apocalypse? You’re definitely going to die, no matter what, and if your existential dread is prompting you to have more sex, then I would treat that as an edict from the grave. 

That doesn’t mean you have to ignore the reality of what is happening around you, or give up on any long-term dreams. Learning how to live with consideration towards your future self, while also being aware you might die at any moment, is one of the most interesting contradictions we face, and is no more relevant today than it was for someone living thousands of years ago. You have to suspend your disbelief and secretly know you will live forever, while also trying to realise death is real and will come for us all in the end. You have to write that novel and plant trees you will never eat the fruit of, while also trying to eke whatever joy there is to be found out of the present moment. To be honest, climate change has very little to do with this. Yes, the world is terrifying, but death is the great leveller, and comes for everyone, no matter how many charcoal water filters and spare cans of butane you have. 

The world is a shitshow, but it is also our home, and I love it. I see no reason to either A) give up on caring what happens or B) stop finding what little joy you can in the wreckage. If your fear of death is telling you to have more sex and read more books, then by all means, have more sex and read more books! If Rome is burning, your first call should always be the fire brigade. But who says there isn’t also time for a little fiddling? 

Best,

Hera