If I were an ideologue or an opportunist, say along the lines of Al Gore, I'd be strongly tempted to take hold of stories like this one and start my own climate-change religion. There's money to be made in the prophet-of-doom racket, fame to be won, perhaps even a Nobel prize or an Oscar.
But I guess I'll decline the opportunity that is presenting itself and content myself with a few smug nods as the man-made global warming scam becomes harder and harder to prove and the true-believers become more zealous, fanatical and fundamentalist every day. I'll shake my head in sadness as their holy sacraments, such as CFL's and Ethanol, turn out to be poison and ashes rather than body and blood.
The engine of commerce is quite literally running out of gas. Hunger is on the rise as food is stolen from the mouths of children and sold to the distillery. The Church of Blessed Greenness came up like a harmless, furry little woodland creature, but has since grown fangs and embarked on its holy inquisition. Woe to you peoples of the earth, you were mesmerized by the oracles of Gaia, but the prophetic words have led you to the precipice of doom. Let the sleepers awaken, let them take up once again the free tools of their enterprise. This is a moment of destiny, choose well whom you will follow.