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(Reposted after my mentor told me that such things belong in day logs)

How to solve the oil crisis


Take away everyones cars and vehicles. Recycle or refit them so they form new transport systems that dont require fossil fuels. (Hybrid electric cars are a good start - hydrogen fuel-cell vehicles look even more promising.)

If anyone more than initially resists this move - especially if they plead that their livelihood depends on them not spending the money nescessary to expediate such a huge conversion effort - kill them.

Liquify their corpses.
Transesterificate the resultant slurry into biodeisel. Openly sell it back to neighbouring countries with viewpoints contradictory to your own foreign policy.

If this results in total depopulation of a developed state, you can knock down their buildings and plant trees. Then, in a few million years, you will be able to harvest and presumably sell the hydrocarbons created by your forest's eventual catagenesis. If there is no one readily available to capitalise on (for instance if you fail to leave the planet before The End but somehow survive without losing too much knowlege) you can use it to fuel a big rocket and escape your dying world.

Today (well, tomorrow, but it's late) is the ::REDACTED:: anniversary of my arrival upon this rock. As such, it would be right and proper to spend tonight and today musing on things of vast significance to me and none at all to others.


Well, not so much, no. On the other hand, I have a small but personally important tidbit I wish to record for the later me who may one day go back through these daylogs. I wrote something today. I actually sat down without a plan in my head and watched something happen in my mind which I could (and did) then chronicle. It's an almost-forgotten feeling, really, one which I have been very carefully trying to cultivate. It's like breathing on frost blooms to make them grow; too much, too close, too warm, and pift! Gone.

Blogged it. Put it on another site. Didn't put it here because I hadn't written it here or for here - hopefully, that's next in line. Break the barrier, jack the wall, bring the noise, cliché number four.

With such small steps are large walls scaled.

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