A Pall Apprenticeship of Fools: You're SO Fired!

Biodiesel's the fuel of Weasels.

Bolsonaro Bolsonaro tiny little thing

Bolsonaro prance Bolsonaro singe

Bolsonaro what's the difference if your heart is small?

When your City's full of smoke it's just a pall. 

With brains no bigger than my thumb

Than my thumb, than my thumb

Neat Bolsonaro don't be glum

Now now now, ah ah ah, dumb dumb dumb.

Bolsonaro Bolsonaro tiny little thing

Bolsonrao dance Bolsonaro singe

Bolsonaro what's the difference if you're heart is small?

When your City's full of smoke it's just a pall.

With brains no bigger than my toe

Than my toe, than my toe
Peat Bolsonaro keeps that glow

And it'll grow and it'll grow and it'll grow

Bolsonaro Bolasonaro tiny little thing
Bolsonaro dance Bolsonaro singe

Bolsonaro what's the difference if you're heart is small?

When your City's full of smoke it casts a pall.

The G-7 was ablaze in a firestorm of criticism as Macron rushed the ongoing disaster in the Amazon to the top of their agenda. As the world burns, with fires by the thousands raging in Russia and Bolivia, baking Alaska, and roasting Namibia, incinerating Indonesia and scorching Madagascar, racing through it like an infernal combusting engine of wrath, it's a bit ironic to see the group of nations most responsible for the deliberate razing of Indonesia's vast rainforests to enable them to burn biodiesel, the fuel around whose use they designed criminal software to deceive not only their customers, but entire nations, bewail the fate of "our" (by which they mean "their")  planet.  

Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the United Kingdom, and the United States, every single one of those nations that comprise the G-string 7 rely heavily on the growth of their automobile manufacturing industries. The most notable, as it is constantly touted as the "Greenest",  being Germany, the Poster Junge for international fraud, relying on the deception of their own customers to goose sales by fooling them into pouring more poisonous gases into the atmosphere than their native countries would allow.

G-7 Nations' populations are too Tired to Walk Anywhere.

Because it isn't just the manufacturing of internal combustion machines that the economies of all seven of the G-shoestring-7 nations rely on to pay down the enormous mountains of debt they've amassed to keep their home fires burning, but is also its growth unto infinity of those Transnationals that pour more fumes, noxious gases, and toxic emissions into the atmosphere on an ongoing and accelerating basis that they stoke to a government-incentivized heat, that blazes like a coke furnace, not during one fire-season as in the Brazilian inferno they are railing so publicly about, but one that rages year-round, manufacturing vehicles that will then continue the process of incinerating everything in sight to keep their rubber wheels rolling over those asphalt jungle pavements while burning burning burning more fuel per annum, thereby creating more byproducts of combustion  than would be created should the entire Amazon go up in smoke (which it may just well do). All while sucking up more oxygen than the rainforests of Brazil could ever hope to produce.

And it is these nations, the countries with the most molly-coddled populations in the world, who are  responsible for the utter desolation of native cultures, the despoliation of  entire continents, who over the span of decades and centuries ran rough shod over anyone with enough temerity to stand in their way, that now so haughtily ensconces themselves in the  judgment seat to decide how other countries should run their affairs.

Not a one of these nations has the least intention, and therefore haven't the semblance of a plan, to cease the manufacture of personal portable incineration machines. Their entire economies would collapse into burning rubble, their combustion-dependent transportation systems, into which they've poured every nickel of profit and every cent of credit they can squeeze out of the emerging economies (emerging traffic keep right ... far right), would come to a screeching halt, should they do as they demand Bolsonaro do, and stop the fires burning. Except their fires burn inside each and every one of the billion engines set ablaze every morning to belch from a billion tailpipes the fumes that propel people, Svengali-like, to an office where more often than not, they are set to perform tasks that no one wants done, but that are needed to stoke the economy enough to paint the facade of "growth" onto a Potemkin village of "creative" destruction.

The fires in the Amazon are so upsetting to these avatars of internal combustion precisely because they make abundantly clear, by concentrating the pall of dense and choking smoke in a cinematic and fiery display, the scale of mankind's destructive conflagration in a way that separating the fires into small steel-enclosed chambers that render them invisible, can't. But what gets burned into the psyche by this dramatic manner of flames bursting into the air so photogenically, is that the spectre of our dearly beloved Capitalism, once mankind's boon, has now become its bane.

The plume is off the rows.

Fire fire everywhere pours soot into the air

But we never care, unless it's Bolsonar-Oh!

Then we raise a hue and cry as if it's something new, 

smoke pouring from the flue

OH what are we to do?

Jump in the car and drive and drive or else we'll never thrive,

leave nothing else alive, while the jetstream takes a dive.

Start the engine hear it roar, without it life's a bore

a haunting metaphor: modernity's our whore.

We point the finger everywhere to find someone to blame;

Call them out by name, heap on them our shame.

But burn it up! and burn it down! is still the only game

Not a thing will change, as we all declaim,

"One Nation indivisible; Our way's non-negotiable"

 Rendering our frantic cries absurdly, otherworldly,

Risible.

Amazon Prime's the Pump.