Heat by George Monbiot

I picked up Heat by George Monbiot in Winnipeg airport on my way to Calgary. I usually like books that open my eyes, blast me into new perspectives, stretch my imagination. I like books that speculate on what is possible, allowing me to continually use these devices to synthesise ideas (to the minimal degree I can ). Monbiot's book is not one of those. It is a little more important than a book that tells me what is possible. It doesn't throw up new ideas that address such-and-such problem. It exhaustively goes through various theories about combatting climate change in a search for a workable solution that will preserve the privileged existence of the middle class in the Western World.
It is also remarkably depressing for one such as moi, a "half full petrol tank" kind of guy. But I don't regret reading it. Until now I've been very proud of myself sorting my garbage into paper and pastic and everything else. The way things are looking, all those amazing flights of fancy to far off destinations that I love to indulge are never going to be made up by my piddling efforts at recycling and taking the bus as often as possible. Worralife!