The Editor, John Surname, Ant Rogenous, Jeremy Sear and Wah discuss:

* Earth Hour
* Kevin Rudd’s world tour
* Brendan Nelson’s listening tour
* Max Mosely’s Nazi orgy
* Robert Manne vs. Keith Windschuttle in the naked GrodsThink cage fight

** Because overwhelming demand for Iain Hall’s latest EP has caused congestion in teh tubes use only the “Play in popup” link or the “Download” link. **

 

 GrodsThink 10 (1/4/08) [31:18m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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I won’t be taking part in Earth Hour tonight. That’s not to say that I oppose those who are planning to take part, or that I’m going to turn on every light and appliance in my house in protest; it’s just that I don’t think it’s the right thing for me to do. While I believe in human-induced climate change and believe that it’s a significant challenge that we face, I think that Earth Hour is a bit too heavy on symbolism and a bit too light on action. Don’t get me wrong — symbolism is important but it must be backed by concrete action.

As Matthew Warren reports in today’s Oz, only 8% of NSW homes have signed up to “green” power (sourced wholly or in part from renewable sources), rising to 12% in SA and 15% in Victoria. Most people cite cost as a factor in their decision not to upgrade to green power. It’s easy to turn off the lights for an hour but it’s a much more gutsy and honourable decision to pay an extra dollar or two a week to actually make a difference.

At home we try hard to do our bit. We pay about $130 per year on top of our normal electricity bill for 50% Green Power accredited energy, we turn off the entertainment unit (TV, DVD, sound system) and other appliances at the wall when they’re not being used, we have energy saving globes in all suitable light fittings. But we’re not perfect. We don’t turn off everything at the wall (for example, the modem and wireless router are always on), we still use the pre-installed halogen downlights in the kitchen, and sometimes we absent-mindedly leave lights on when we’re not in the room. But the important thing is that we’re making a real effort.

I also despise the way that Earth Hour has turned into a giant marketing carnival as sub-tabloid newspapers and corporations try to out-green each other in declaring their commitment to Earth Hour. Nothing’s surer to turn me off participating in an event than when it turns into a Live 8 style corporate wankfest with a thin sheen of noble cause barely disguising the scramble for branding opportunities.

Again, I bear no ill will towards those who decide to dim their lights for an hour tonight, for if it triggers personal action then it can only be a good thing. But don’t come sermonising if taking symbolic action without real and ongoing action is enough to cleanse your conscience and “raising awareness” is your only goal.

Within three minutes of being asked if I would like to become a regular GrodsCorp contributor, I channelled Woody Allen for help and developed an ulcer in my stomach and called myself a shlemiel.

The pressure was on. The pressure to integrate myself into the GrodsCommunity as a worthy contributor meant that my debut post would have to be original, witty and instantly win the hearts and minds of lefties everywhere and incur the wrath of RWDB elsewhere. It also had to be Sydney-specific, to establish myself as the Sydney correspondent.

What better way to do that than to somehow invoke the gloomy spectres of Tim Blair and Andrew Bolt, I thought first to myself. No, was my immediate second thought. That was too easy. I needed something more illustrious. Something that was not going to sully my inaugural post. But it nevertheless had to be something to cause a widespread outbreak of collective frothing and foaming at the mouths of wingbats everywhere.

As I turned a corner onto Oxford Street in Sydney to a cafe on Thursday afternoon, deeply troubled by my personal circumstances, I was confronted with banners on lamp posts so large that I immediately knew what I was going to write. Only it wasn’t writing so much as pasting an image for all the global warming warmening sceptics out there.

EARTH HOUR banners adorn all of Sydney. OK, just Oxford Street in this instance.

There’s a LOT of them.

Tada. That’s my grand entrance out of the way. Sure, it was original, but the witty part failed miserably (and yes, I’m pre-emptively putting the boot into myself. Must I explain everything?). At least you cannot get any more Sydney than seeing a photo of Oxford Street, Darlinghurst, home to the gay community, kinky adult shops and nude live shows, and a liquor store beautifully named Lick Her Shop.