Beware the U.N.'s 'Agenda 2030'

Dystopia is too weak a word for what is happening beneath the free-floating public hysteria with which our glorious leaders afflict us. A friend who worked on fish policy in D.C., drove from her house in French farm country to Brussels to visit her son and encountered on the way vast highways feeding into the city meant, she supposed, to serve the future mega-burb the idiot planners are planning. It was a summer evening, and yes, the light was fading but the electricity feeding the highway burned bright, garish, like Vegas times ten, and no one was on the highway, it was empty. Where did all the energy come from? Late last month she visited the Rhone River Valley:

Well, now it’s fully given over to industrial electricity production, most pushed by subsidies but rates will recover some in time. The river is now outfitted with multiple nuclear power plants, large scale hydro. It bristles with windmills, has an electric train running along beside it so the swells can travel from the south to Lyon and Germany without having to drive through the wasteland they’ve created. The river is full of PCBs and the director at the Agricultural Museum told me they irrigate the fields with water from the Rhone. He seemed unaware of the PCBs. I survived on what I brought with me, not eating or drinking anything local.

Once these regions are designated as "Agenda 2030" regions, effectively under the jurisdiction of the U.N., all national and regional environmental regulation is set aside. The takings are large and small.

The shuttered duck farm next door to me in Mauroux was wiped out, twice, by avian flu (which oddly did not impact the wild birds in the area), has been proposed for solar panels. Can you imagine how easy it would be to toss a vial of avian flu onto the fields at a duck farm? The government is now proposing a mRNA-LNP-PEG vax for the ducks and the LNPs congregate in the body but heavily in the liver which is, of course, their highest value product.

In Rhodes, some clever fellow overlaid the permit application map for a new wind farm over the burned areas on the island, and they matched, exactly, including a dog leg in the map. True or not, taking a full one-third of the earth’s surface, as is being executed right now – 50 percent by 2050 – requires some harsh measures. This is the land rush of all land rushes. It is for your own good, don’t forget, climate catastrophe, species extinction. Or something because these plans are anything but green, except of course in the profits arising from overriding all regulation. In Arizona, a third generation farmer stands on his desiccated land, pointing across to a massive green Saudi alfalfa farm which has been given the water permitting (in Arizona) and which will take the alfalfa back to Saudi Arabia. Very carbon neutral.

Blame it on Rio.

This is Agenda 2030. Not one single outlet of the mainstream media has reported on its implications. Our entire life is being rejiggered by it. Everything good that you remember about your childhood will be taken, for example, and destroyed. Land over which you once thought your country held sovereignty no longer does. Chunk by chunk by chunk it is being taken. Your politicians signed treaties. You can find an examination with pages of sourcing, including some few of the many treaties, here and the road out of this mess, here.

But essentially since 1992 and the Rio conference, politicians and senior bureaucrats have signed treaty after treaty making these arrangements internationally legal and binding. The only way it can be fought is via returning to first principles, like the U.S. Constitution and in Canada, the British North America Acts. And those roads in court are arduous, expensive, and long. By the time you get a decision, you have lost another half million acres. The corporation shrugs and pays off the town residents, but the town remains broken.

The burden of Agenda 2030 falls most heavily upon the under-educated. It is their livelihood and opportunity that is vitiated. America’s fisherman are up in arms these days, planning a march on D.C., because off-shore wind farms are destroying fish stock. If you look hard at the patterning of this, which I intend to over the next few months, you can just about see that the food supply is beginning to be drawn down. Already in my region, which is a circus of fruit – our mild winters and hot summers up in the Interior and often enough, on my islands — mean cornucopia, abundance. Demeter descends and opens her fists, shakes her robes and apricots, peaches, crates upon crates of grapes, apples, pears, plums fall.

Not this year. Six roadside peaches cost $10, and there are no crates for jam-making in the supermarkets. I know I’ve said it before, but the sight of elderly women on meagre pensions, unable to afford a peach in summer in a land of abundance, makes me nuts.

Eat your hearts out, peasants.

RFK Jr. ran an on-line symposium on farming last week which I attended. About 65 percent of America’s farms are held by mega-corporations, most of them multinationals. They can make their arrangements under Agenda 2030 treaties to literally pillage the land and pollute it. All they have to do is to sign onto some mad "green" scheme thought up by a weedy bureaucrat in Turtle Bay and no one can fight it.

One formerly traditional rancher described his process to restorative organic farming. It took a few years, but instead of employing a few desperate immigrants, his monthly payroll lies in the six figures and his farm makes real profits. The town where he is located turns into a place where people actually want to live. The sane path is easy, virtuous and abundant. One only has to choose it. But then, of course, you’d have to care.