It’s bad enough to become extinct when you have no chance to avoid it. But when the roof is falling on your head and you blame gravity — you’re too clueless for a clue-filled universe.
Things are bad and they are getting worse. And if we don’t wake up; they’re going to get much, much worse. And much, much, much, much, much, much worse.
Somewhere; there’s a “much” with our extinction written on it. And it can’t get much worse than that.