Copenhagen Blues

I had been in Copenhagen for past five days—yes, for the climate change conference, blah blah blah. So far, it had not been very eventful—I mean, for me. Yes, yes, there were many events and many eventful incidents, but as a nobody (a mere observer) there I see very little action.

When I arrived here, I was expecting protests from the climate-doubters. Incidentally, I flew into Denmark from Russia, where the hacking behind the recent Climategate originated (allegedly). There were some small meetings I had chance to sit in on, and the scientists there (I don’t want to name names) were a little tactless in refusing address this climategate. One said he won’t comment on stolen data, as if he were some highcourt judge setting a haughty lawyer straight. The doubters also behaved terribly by harassing, haranguing and shouting “Do you condone delecting data?” incessantly.

On Friday, I went into the Plenary where there was some hot air but that was that. Over the weekend, there were many side-events, presentations and symposiums not to mention some mini-job fair at the Bella Centre where the conference is. On my way through metro, I was amazed how many hippies are here (maybe they all just flew in from Amsterdam). Most protests and violent outbursts had been from anti-capitalist, bleeding heart thugs, who are trying to turn this into some sort of Seattle 1999.

And then this morning, I woke up at 6 am to get to the Bella Centre around seven, the usual arriving time for the delegates. There, me and my friend (who had more right to be in the plenary than I did anyway) were turned away. The overzealous guard there asked us to get new registrations for some mysterious reason which some attribute to some threats they had been receiving in recent days (but more possibly because Al Gore was going to speak today). So get the passes we did, by which time the line to enter the centre had stretched all the way back to the Metro station.

My friend looked at me with the sad little face that nobody but those who desperate need of their morning coffee can put on. Thus we headed out to a nearby coffeehouse, where I was surrounded by the above sad faces for next thirty minutes until my own eyes, face and hair were returned to normalcy by a double espresso.


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