In retrospect, Pink Floyd’s 1975 album “Wish You Were Here,” is not only a beautifully cohesive sonic masterpiece, arguably their greatest achievement; it’s also a prophecy.  Roger Water’s acidic lyrics, (“hot ashes for trees, hot air for a cool breeze”), his corrosive vision, his dim view of humanity, are playing out in spades.  We are rolling along, harvesting the planet at an accelerating clip, hurtling towards a definitive Dark Green Doomsday Scenario.  We are that glad-handing, flaming fellow on the album cover; consumed by fire, even as we consume.  We are burning up, and we don’t even know it.  Will we awaken in the nick of time? Or do we emerge from our groggy state wondering if the greenery, the blue skies, the bounty of nature were all just a fever-dream? – Jammer