To paraphrase Woody Guthrie,
ThrashWorld is my world, and
ThrashWorld is your world.

All 7 billion of us—roughly the population of Homo sapiens on the planet today—are citizens of ThrashWorld. The name derives from the crazy old aunt in my novel, Abigail in Gangland. Her last name is Thrasher, but her nephew Luke, with good reason, calls her Aunt Thrash.

Think about it. A planet in crisis on virtually all fronts, led by global climate change, or GLOCCH, as I call it. Polar ice melting. Sea levels rising. Storms more violent. Savage wildfires. Agriculture threatened by drought and flooding. Deadly new viruses. Species vanishing. Small towns gutted by globalization. Cities choked with overpopulation, cars and pollution. Crime rates soaring as poverty increases. Loneliness, depression and suicide. Insane gyrations on the stock markets. Wars for control of dwindling petroleum and other resources. Terrorism and genocide. Swarms of displaced people worldwide . . .

In short, a planet thrashing with intractable problems, turbulence and pain. Thrashing about like a wounded and dying beast on the desert, grabbing at solutions that won’t suffice—least of all those that are being proposed by a self-serving, profit-maddened, global corporate elite and its proxies in government.

This is ThrashWorld. This is my website with a link to my blog, “Love and Rage,” where, among other things, I will state the obvious case for world revolution in our lifetime—based on the principles of maximum ecology, human scale, and local autonomy and self-reliance. I want to hear your ideas, too. Maybe together we can make a difference. If not, if we are trapped in a slow-motion apocalypse that won’t be stopped, we can at least support each other and have a few laughs as darkness falls.