This needs to stay ‘sticky.’ If we’re serious about finding Australia’s own Gone Girls in time to save two or three of them, we need to keep this story at the top of the page.
We’ve therefore decided to stop blogging about anything else until further notice, and we ask the rest of the blogosphere to follow suit. Thanks everyone!
Your help is much appreciated, not by us, but by the families of the Scared Scientists.
MELB., AU—Dark forebodings are held for eight Aussie scientists after a property they shared was found deserted this morning.
Police are treating the disappearance as harrowing.
At a media conference today, Acting Federal Police Commissioner Michael Phelan urged the public to help find the scientists. Anybody with data relevant to their whereabouts was practically begged to call the National Missing Persons Coordination Centre (NMPCC) on 1800 000 634.
“Climate scientists need constant attention and reassurance… Even small changes in their environment are highly distressing.”
The Commissioner was flanked by homicide detectives, Missing Persons Unit investigators and relatives of four or five of the scientists. (A number of parents sent their apologies, citing work or family commitments.)
“When the most precious and vulnerable among us go missing, every hour counts,” said Commissioner Phelan, voicing concern for the welfare of the Aussie Eight.
“Climate scientists need constant attention, reassurance and a balanced sports drink to replenish the electrolytes they lose [via bowel incontinence] in their terror. Any change in their environment, no matter how small, can cause severe distress, tummy upset and an ugly psychosomatic rash.”
Senior Detective Donald Jenner told CN that the best case scenario would be that the scientists simply ran away.
“It happens more often than people realize. But climate scientists are highly domesticated. Ninety-plus times out of 100, they’ll be back within 24 hours. The attractions of Vaucluse living are just too great,” explained Detective Jenner. “We’ll get a call from their kids saying, ‘sorry to falsely alarm you. We’ve just found Mum or Dad in the pool house, curled up in front of the fire.’
“It’s only when these [missing scientist] situations hit the 24 hour mark that the prognosis gets a bit dimmer. We then begin to descry the hand of man.”
The big question, then, is how long their address has been vacant. The last person to see it live was one of the scientists’ mums, who noticed nothing amiss at the time.
“That was in January,” says Detective Jenner. “[The mother] spent three minutes at the location, viewed 2.1 pages and clicked four links, one of them external.”
But then—some time between January and last night—it was abandoned. Police are hoping the squatters found on site today can assist in narrowing down when, exactly, it all went bad.
The missing colleagues, who shared a constellation of anxiety disorders and phobias, were described as ‘scientific superfriends’ who had ‘a healthy fixation on climate [change].’ In a light-hearted nod to the psychological demons they had in common, they even named their little clique ‘the Scared Scientists.’
Then, just over a year ago, the octet decided to rent this space together—and the rest is history, or is rapidly becoming so.
An ordinary phobia support group suddenly became a pioneering experiment in non-institutional community living. If the Aussie Eight were to thrive at the new address, said a typical voice in the peer care movement, it might offer “not just the hope of a better life, but proof of concept” to thousands of developmentally- and mentally-special young Australians who languished, friendless and aimless, in the oubliette of the nursing-home system.
Where they languish still.
Now the world is asking: has that experiment ended in tragedy?
As this worsening situation deepens, Climate Nuremberg’s blow-by-blow coverage will keep you apprised of each deterioration.—The editors