Skip the sunscreen. Wear blinders.

Below the fold you will find what was said to be Kurt Vonnegut’s 1997 commencement address to undergrads at MIT. It begins, after an opening quote, with the words “Wear sunscreen.” It closes with “But trust me on the sunscreen.” It is clever and even contains good advice, like “Do one thing every day that scares you” and “Keep your old love letters, throw away your bank statements.”

The original piece, published in June of 1997 in the Chicago Tribune, was unsigned. Mary Schmich of the Tribune later claimed authorship. The whole thing was weird, as the piece went viral as a real Vonnegut commencement address. It seemed unprofessional to allow it to go unsigned and to print it without Vonnegut’s approval. The Tribune is a high profile outlet, so that practical jokes are beneath it. But only later did we learn that Vonnegut had never spoken at MIT. Schmich then tried to contact him to explain the situation, and when they finally spoke he said it was “spooky.”

“Two questions: Why use Vonnegut? And why sunscreen?

I have not thought of this incident in years, and came across it again by stumbling about, as we all do. There are enough oddball aspects to it that a list is required, dammit:

• Opening words, “Use sunscreen.”
• Closing words, “But trust me on the sunscreen.”
• Claimed authorship, Mary Schmich.
• That the piece was published without author attribution.
• That Kurt Vonnegut was said, even in 1997 an easily detected fraud, to have spoken these words in a graduation exercise at MIT.
• That Vonnegut did not come forward to disclaim the entire piece.
• That Vonnegut used the word “spooky.”

For those who do not know, the “global warming” movement, now called “Climate Change”,  was underway in 1997, but was barely catching on. (It goes back to the late 1980s.) It’s been promoted relentlessly, and as with Covid and other hoaxes, none dare speak out against it, that is, none in high profile who want to stay that way. There is tremendous power behind it.

While the level of deceit behind the Climate Change movement is astounding on its own, more impressive is the level of support offered the men who seized the baton and jumped out to lead the parade. The people who offered support were notable in their pretenses, like (then) Prince Charles, Al Gore, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Barack Obama, Joe Biden, to name just some of them. They were followed by other actors of lesser note who were rewarded with unearned prestige and fame … are you listening, Greta? Leo? Bill Nye the Science Guy?

Lately Donald Trump has been undermining the Climate Change movement with some long overdue initiatives, like getting out from under the Paris Climate Accords, attacking the notion that CO2 is a pollutant, and opening up oil and gas to development once again. It’s all good, and at the same time, Trump, former wrestling promoter and TV actor, probably knows even  less about climate than Greta or Leo, so what is he up to?

Again, it is not hard to see the hidden hands of power operating a sock puppet. The hand (so to speak) was overplayed, as the fear, unlike Covid, never caught on. People acting on orders were saying one stupid thing after another (“The planet is boiling”) and with more hyperbole came less impact. Climate Change appears to be over as a popular movement, if it ever started. Its impact will go on, but no longer will it use headlines and professional liars. It will go underground.

Use sunscreen? 1997? A fake commencement address by a man who knew better than to complain about it in public? An obscure writer for a large and famous newspaper just doing Friday afternoon  doodles? No, none of that flies. Here’s what happened, in my view, and requiring another bullet point list, dammit:

• The piece was written by unseen hands who were excellent writers, maybe failed novelists, who fell in to a career at some place like Langley where, as with the mysterious people who wrote the Beatles songbook, Martin Luther King’s speeches, and the song Creep,  they thrive in anonymity.
• Once it was understood how good the piece was, the question was how to publicize it.
• Power showed its hand, enough of it to force the hand of the people at the Chicago Tribune, most likely all Freemasons, used to acting with lockstep attitudes on orders from above. “Publish it!” they were told.
• The piece went public without any heads-up to Vonnegut, who knew to keep his head down. MIT as well offered no protest, even as the commencement that year was done by Kofi Annan, and was surely as boring as low tide on a rocky Maine beach.
• Schmich was instructed to claim authorship, and signed a non-disclosure agreement and maybe even got a check in return.
• Vonnegut’s use of the word “spooky” was used in the same sense that we use the word here at this blog … Intel at work.

The Global Warming/Climate Change psyop was underway, and the advice to use sunscreen was knowing advice by its insiders: Nothing unusual will be happening with climate in the coming years but word to the wise is to pretend that something is up.

What exactly was up? Rather than climate, the smart ones, the insiders, knew not to wear sunscreen but rather to do something else: wear blinders. Right, Barack? Joe?

Al?

Anyway, it is an enjoyable piece, witty and well-written. IF not a commencement address somewhere, it should have been.

_________________________

“Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young” by Mary Schmich

Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who’d rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there’s no reason we can’t entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.

I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt. Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ‘97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.