Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Positive Thinking For A Wednesday Morning In The Waning Days Of Industrial Civilization...

A Desert Sunrise Beyond The Power Grid
Click on photo to enlarge - © jim otterstrom 2009/2010

Each new morning brings opportunities beyond the possibilities of yesterday.
There is a new story unfolding before us, a story borne slightly more visible with every passing day.
A story that lives beyond peak fossil fuel and Industrial Civilization.
How that story unfolds depends upon us...

jim otterstrom 6/2/2010


Below are some positive constructive thoughts, from Andrew MacDonald, for a Wednesday morning dimmed by the depressing gloom of the Gulf of Mexico tragedy.


Living the new story
by Andrew MacDonald

Published Wed, 06/02/2010 - 07:00
by
Radical Relocalization

In this time of transition, two stories run through the culture. One is about continual growth and ascendancy. It's mainstream culture's story, the everyday world we're familiar with. The other is the as yet little known story of radical change and descent as we enter the time of necessary simplification - reskilling, retooling, relocalizing. The two stories compete out there in the public conversation of course but also in us and our personal relationships. It often hits me again how deep a hold the status quo's got. We're pretty much wired into it in our daily routines of shopping, speaking, working and living. It's current reality and it's everywhere and hard to see for that reason.

We've lived in that old story for a very long time and its back story - that growth is good and inevitable - is so in our bones, so embodied in us literally that new thinking doesn't affect it much. The Industrial Revolution and the turbo-charge provided by fossil fuel has strengthened these assumptions. We maintain them in small unnoticed ways. When we go shopping or to work, when we talk to friends - we're actors in a world where the script is still the old story about progress and growth and we bow to that story's conventions before we know it. If we watch TV or advertising, it's the old story, even if with some new lines. Importantly the old story is also the one the people we love are plugged into, including our parents and grandparents. Debunking it can seem disloyal to them. The need to be loyal to the story our family honored isn't noticed much either, but it's at the root of a lot of what seems stuck in our culture.

In short we're caught between a rock (the one that sustained us in the past) and a hard place - the challenging realities that we'll need to sustain us in the future.

So how do we move toward the new story? The new story tells of the descent to a world of less fossil fuel use, more localism, more community. It's a new world in which more is asked of us and more interdependence is needed between us; we really can't do it all alone. The new story stretches us personally to imagine new possibilities, exercise unused talents, to admit to ourselves and others what we really want. "Our past remains present, literally occupying us, til we go into & through it with our awakened, full-blooded presence" tweets Robert Masters. The rewards are high in the new story, so's the cost; it's out of our comfort zone.

I'll talk elsewhere about self-authoring the new story and writing a script that meets more of our needs but right now I want to focus on two practical supports for it that are renewals of our associative life. The first is doing community projects with others: gardening, sharing skills, utilizing local markets, working and building things together at the block level or its equivalent, generally building more local community and economy.

The second support takes the form of small groups that can act as micro-climates for the new story. I agree with Peter Block that "the small group is the unit of social transformation"! These explorations will happen eventually on their own given enough time. The trouble is we don't have much time. If we do nothing and coast, change will happen at what we used to call a glacial pace - a pace that glaciers no longer travel at. We'll need to be proactive on this one.

A small group is a practical help by reinforcing the social glue that connects the community and gets things done. It's also valuable in helping us adopt the new paradigm inside ourselves and see elements we just can't see on our own. It's a place where we can try things on for size, see how others are doing it, literally learn together. In the process, the new story becomes more real and embodied. Doing nothing tends to leave us, for now, in the context of the old story. (Sign up for Andrew MacDonald's newsletter for small group updates and support.)

But we do need to move quickly as possible into the new story now. We don't have the luxury of having the old story slowly come to pass over the next 20 or 50 years. Uh, no! Peak oil, financial implosion and climate change are happening now! And we can't just think our way into the new story by tacking some new thoughts in. The story doesn't live and breathe at the level of thought - especi
ally not abstracted cyber thought. It's the spirit in which we move and talk.

Labels: , , , , , , , ,

Saturday, May 01, 2010

'MAYDAY! SOS! MAYDAY! SOS! MAYDAY! SOS!' I'm Trapped In A Psychotic/Psychopathic Civilization Of Serial Killers...

Click on photo to enlarge - photo credit unknown, image courtesy of Erv Nichols
Warning!
Rant Ahead!
~
"Take the rag away from your face, now is the time for your tears"
from 'The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll' © 1964 Bob Dylan
~
It's way past time we took the rags away from our eyes and looked directly into the horrific reality of our petroleum addiction.

Ours is an insidious addiction, mostly hidden from us beneath layers of lifelong denial, which enables us to mindlessly murder our mother, the living earth, with the sick vengeance of a deranged serial killer.
We talk a good line though, like so many addicts in denial do, claiming to care most deeply about our families and the environment, about freedom, democracy and the quality of life. But our actions speak much louder than our words, and those actions prove us to be hopelessly dependent upon the destructive extraction and consumption of the world's ever more scarce resources, a cultural co-dependency created over a dozen or so decades by mixing great quantities of oil with our short-sighted desire for comfort, convenience, self-gratification and security.
Our habitual dependency upon this ever more frenzied oil-driven civilization of reckless consumption has undermined democracy and freedom at home and around the world. It's destroying our environment and ruining the future, not only for our children, but for every species on earth. So we lie to ourselves when we say we care about these things above all, because it's obvious that what we really care about is stuff.
We want a continual fix of stuff; more, bigger, cheaper, labor-saving, convenient, stylish, sexy stuff!
Americans are fond of the term, "Put your money where your mouth is", and we do exactly that. Just look at the billions of dollars you and I have squandered on the destruction of Iraq in our country's futile attempt to monopolize their oil.
Our former president said, "the American way of life is not up for negotiation", and we've forcefully demonstrated that anyone who gets in our way is totally screwed.
As we display increasingly antisocial behavior in our relationships with the other people and species we share the planet with, we reveal that, in fact, we have become a psychotic/psychopathic civilization, a species of sociopathic ecocidal maniacs to put it bluntly.

Yes, I mean all of us! The symptoms of psychosis are clearly defined; a loss of contact with reality, grandiose delusional beliefs, paranoia, defensive aggression, thought disorders, hallucinations and antisocial behavior.

Our disease is systemic throughout society, a classic substance-induced psychosis resulting from our 150 year addiction to petroleum and its associated derivatives.

We can no longer imagine living without our daily fix of oil even though every shot we take further destroys the world which made our lives possible in the first place.

Through our addiction to this cheap abundant (although quite temporary) energy packed substance, we've fooled ourselves into believing we're super-beings, exempt from the laws of nature and the limits to growth. In other words we have lost contact with reality.
Under the influence of the happy-juice we call oil we've experienced a euphoric rush that has kept us obliviously stoned for a century and a half, which by comparison, leaves the high from any other addictive substance paling to utter insignificance.
The manic hyperactivity induced by that rush of oil into the arteries of our society allowed us, in very short order, to transform our primal insecurities, and our creative wet dreams, into a monstrous civilization whose monolithic edifices will stand for centuries as eroding monuments to the ostentatious arrogance of a narcissistic species gone mad with self-absorption, over-consumption, and obsessive compulsive disorders.
We have deluded ourselves into the grandiose belief that this pile-of-crap civilization we've plastered across the planet is a modern miracle, evidence of our manifest destiny as masters of the universe.
We Americans make up only about 4.5% of the world population yet we consume 25% of the world's resources. We are the world's number one trash producers, generating 40% of humanity's trash, and we're number two in climate altering CO2 emissions (just recently displaced from #1 by China), responsible for over 20% of global atmospheric accumulations.
We are---and have been for over a century---the development model for a civilization that has spawned the 6th greatest extinction episode in the 4.5 billion year history of earth and it is estimated that we are now losing around 200 species a day, or 70,000 species a year, through habitat loss and the pollution of ecosystems.
You and I are the ones responsible for this latest round of extinctions; for the climate change happening now; for the melting of the polar caps and glaciers; for the coming rise in sea levels, and the subsequent displacement and homelessness of billions of human beings.
We may also be primarily responsible for the very existence of those unsustainable billions of people because of increases in the world food supply created by our development of an international industrial/agribusiness model.
A model completely dependent upon the petrochemicals used for fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides, a model which also requires the production & maintenance of gargantuan fleets of farm equipment and transportation networks to produce those agricultural products and get them to markets around the globe.
All of this has unleashed global-wide opportunities of unprecedented magnitude for greedy profiteering by a select few at the expense of everyone and everything else. So, as a matter of course, the world economy is now managed by a gang of legalized thugs & racketeers, rivaled in greed and ruthlessness only by illegal drug cartels, fundamentalist religious fanatics, and an emerging flotilla of Somalian pirates.

~

"Steal a little and they throw you in jail, steal a lot and they make you king"
from Sweetheart Like You - © 1983 Bob Dylan
~
Capitalism is a Ponzi/Pyramid Scheme which robs the larger populace of the commons to benefit a handful of elites, where obscene profits perpetuate unlimited growth on a finite planet. One of the results has been the contemporary hallucination that our destruction of the planet somehow makes us wealthy.
The wealth of America is now nothing but an imaginary bubble kept aloft by the printing of money, which becomes ever more worthless by the moment. Before long that debt bubble is going to burst into flames like the Hindenburg Blimp, as we might gather from the precedents unfolding in Iceland, Greece, Portugal, and Spain (not to mention California---the 5th largest economy in the world---which is essentially bankrupt).
The perpetual wars we're now waging have deepened not only our national debt, but our national paranoia as well, resulting in over 6,700 military installations--- bases, warehouses, or support facilities in nearly 150 countries (under the guise of defending freedom & democracy)---all to enforce our world dominance and gain control of dwindling resources in the interest of "national security", or what I call our assumed national supremacy.
Meanwhile, here in the "land of the free, the home of the brave", we have the highest per-capita imprisonment rate in the world, 25% of the incarcerated human beings on planet earth are behind bars right here in the good ol' USA.
Is this the definition of Democracy and Freedom?
Is this what the Statue of Liberty stands for?
We all know better...
True freedom lies in the unspoiled bounty of nature where all species are created equal, where those who can't, or won't, adapt to the limits of their environment eventually perish.
We're so deep in denial of our collective addiction that we've kept shooting petroleum into the bloodstream of our lives without facing those limits until we have, quite suddenly, found ourselves up against a wall, with the limits of our ecosystems staring us in the face, point blank.
Perhaps this will wake us up, most addicts need to bottom out before they can face reality and attempt some sort of recovery, but sometimes it's too late for that, when the damage is beyond repair.
So, go ahead my fellow addicts...
Drill Baby Drill!
Buy Baby Buy!
Drive Baby Drive!
Kill Baby Kill!
...but beware, our chickens are coming home to roost.
~
My name is Jim, I'm in recovery from the Petroleum Age*
*Thank you, Chellis Glendinning, for the societal recovery concept.

Labels: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Looking Back From The Future, Part 2:

The Magic Bus Hobbles Along...Click on photo to enlarge © 1972-2009 jim otterstrom

...But The Emperor Has No Clothes.

Yep, that is definitely me---26 years old, stark naked, and in charge of an abandoned bus---while smoking a Camel, with the rest of the pack stuffed in a paper-bag turban on my head!

We are now over 37 years into the future from that moment, in October of 1972, when I made this rather amusing self-portrait.

Amusing to me now---from a decade into the succeeding century---not so much because I was still smoking cigarettes, or because I was starkers, but simply because a poorly executed photograph, recorded while spontaneously clowning around, with no forethought whatsoever, now seems almost prophetic.

I don't remember consciously trying to make a statement about peak oil or a post-petroleum world with this picture. I had merely discovered a derelict old bus at a remote burned-out homestead deep in the Santa Monica Mountains, which seemed like a perfect location for another of my irreverent photographic diatribes on the obvious (to me) consequences of our industrial civilization.

And, characteristically, I made those statements with a thumbing of my nose toward conformity, conventions, and the narrow-minded short-sightedness that I believed brought our culture to that point.

My photographs from the late-middle 20th Century often depicted blighted decaying urban or industrial locations, juxtaposed with naked humans, which I preferred to be women.

To my eyes, the lovely graceful female form lent more impact to the contrast I was attempting to illuminate between us---a single, vulnerable, mammalian species---and the ugly wreckage we were leaving in our wake as we subdued this magnificent planet.

Besides, I was a young male with a lot of lead in my pencil and the perpetuation of life on earth is all about biology, chemistry, pheremones and sexual attraction---just ask the birds, bees, and flowers---so naturally, I was quite taken with the anatomy of the opposite sex, but there wasn't a lady to be found when this picture was made, so you're stuck with me.

Where I lived, in the 1960s and early 1970s, young people spent a good deal of time naked together, outdoors, diving off rocks into secret swimming holes, or body-surfing, sunbathing, and playing volleyball at nude beach hideaways, until the gawkers, perverts, and cops discovered us.

We weren't preparing ourselves for careers, or advancement in the corporate world, we had temporarily escaped the nasty oppressiveness of materialism and competition, and were just living life to the fullest, while we could.

Change was coming though, Alvin Toffler's 'Future Shock' was written in that era, but most of us hadn't read it yet, because we liked it right where we were. Many of us had read Orwell though, and Huxley, so we had a pretty good idea of what was ahead for humanity if our civilization continued along the established path.

So, today, people of that age have their faces stuck to computer screens much of the time, fingers to the keyboard, and ears to the cell-phone, gaming, texting and tweeting in their cyberspace social networks, while constantly being electronically profiled, saturated with personalized corporate come-ons and media-hyped celebrity worship, as they're fed a steady stream of ads reeking with images of luxury, glamour, and "bling bling", that promise to make their lives more fulfilling.

All that's happening right here in the midst of a collapsing civilization now engaged in ceaseless wars over the earth's rapidly dwindling resources!


RETCH!!!


One might ask how I can be so pessimistic about our culture and yet so seemingly optimistic about life and nature?

Well, let's start with my negative outlook on our corporate owned military industrial civilization, because that perspective is the culmination of a 64 year self-guided contemporary history course.

~~~~~~

November 14th of 1945---exactly 100 days after my country dropped the world's first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, instantly incinerating 80,000 men, women, and children---I was yanked from my mother's anesthetized womb with a pair of forceps, slapped on the ass, and had a latex nipple shoved in my mouth so I could suckle a bottle of imitation breast milk until some Doc Frankenstein came along and chopped off my foreskin.

Welcome to Life, in modern America!

I got past that initial shock and started adapting to my new world, learning how to crawl, climb, and walk, in pretty short order, all of which were a big help in enabling my escape. My escape from the bars of the crib, from the playpen, from the four walls and the fenced yard. From the arguing, the bickering, the spankings, and the rules & regulations.

Fortunately for me, in 1949, when I was 4 years old, we moved from the city to the rural farming area of the West San Fernando Valley (now the porn capital of America), and my playtime quickly evolved into outside explorations of the natural world, away from people, in the company of frogs, tortoises, butterflies, birds, flowers, and creeks full of dragonflies & pollywogs.

I was in paradise, for a little while...

...but I was learning to read & write too.

All the while discovering that most activities involving other people were conducted on their terms. Someone puts a pencil in your right hand, saying, this is how it's done, so I would immediately put the pencil in my left hand, because I had my own ideas about things.

Like most kids of those days, I liked to draw, color, and paint the flowers, butterflies, bugs, and all the other magical things I saw in the natural world around me, I just did it left-handed.

Too soon, came the big yellow machines, grading, scraping, and compacting the earth, digging ditches, laying pipe, paving roads, and building houses; hundreds, and thousands, and then tens of thousands of houses. Little boxes all the same, laid out row after row, upon land I had previously shared with tumbleweeds and grazing sheep as I roamed the open prairies, the wheat fields, the vineyards, the orchards, and the rocky crags of the long lost San Fernando Valley I remember so fondly.

In fifteen years it was all gone, paved over with the destruction of progress.

By 1964, a place I loved had vanished into thin air and I was questioning everything people did, I was becoming a critic of my culture.

In school I was taught that this land of ours was once occupied by primitive savages who had to be moved out of the way to facilitate progress and development, and, by the time I was 8 or 9, I wanted to run off and live with those Indians.

Another thing I remember vividly from elementary school is seeing a cheery uplifting film, produced by a paper company, about how companies like theirs were responsibly managing America's forests, selectively cutting trees and carefully replanting, to preserve those forests in perpetuity for us, and all the wildlife which lived there. There was no mention of the clearcutting, the chemical pollutants, or the habitat and watershed destruction we would later associate with that industry.

I remember too being taught that our American democracy was a Beacon of Freedom for the rest of the world, and another specific 'educational film' still sticks in my mind, about our partnership with friendly brown neighbors to the south, in Central America, through which we exchanged their delicious tropical foods for our help in modernizing their countries.

But we didn't hear about Allen and John Foster Dulles, or the United Fruit Company (now Chiquita), or the fact that we were displacing entire populations of indigenous people from their homes and their land so a few businessmen could get rich supplying Americans with bananas, pineapple, and coffee.

And we were clueless too, about the Dulles brothers involvement in the 1953 CIA coup which overthrew Mohammed Mosaddeq, the Western friendly democratically elected Prime Minister of Iran, reinstating the Shah Of Iran, an authoritarian oil company friendly dictator, who would reign for the next 26 years, fueling the flames of the radical Islamic Revolution of 1979. That ill-conceived greed-motivated '53 coup was a mistake which would culminate in much of the terrorism we endure today, including the 9/11 destruction of the World Trade Center in 2001.

But something else was being drummed into my head at school---every month when the air-raid sirens went off, and we did our duck & cover drills, cowering under our desks---and that lesson was that the Russians were evil people who wanted to rule the world, and they were very likely going to send nuclear armed missiles to destroy our country.

We had to be prepared...

On several weekends my family actually went out window-shopping for bomb shelters. I clearly recall climbing down into those stuffy claustrophobic oversized tin cans and wondering how long I could stay in there before going crazy, or if the air filter would really keep out the radiation.

I was also taught, in Junior High School---when I was considered old enough to know about such things---that slavery was a tragic scar on American history which had been rectified by the Civil War. But I wasn't told, that, in the South, schools, restaurants, public transportation, restrooms and drinking fountains etc. etc. etc., were still segregated.

Nor was I taught---even though the Fifteenth Amendment to the Constitution had been ratified nearly a century earlier, in 1870, giving African Americans the equal right to vote---that the great majority of blacks were still excluded from voting by discriminatory State voting regulations.

None of this was in the textbooks of the 1950s, nor was it spoken of at home, and what little reporting there was on television, or in newspapers, was miniscule, biased, and trivialized.

There were no black people where I lived, in fact there were very few people who weren't as lily-white as me and my family. I had almost no multi-racial/multi-cultural experience until I was in my teens, except for one uncle who was married to a Native-American woman that actually breast-fed her babies right there in front of God and everybody else, including me. I was in awe of her!

Our 1950s world was portrayed to us on television screens, where we shared the life experiences of Lucy & Ricky, Timmy & Lassie, Ozzie & Harriet, Amos & Andy, and the Cleavers; June, Ward, Wally, 'The Beaver', and the neighborhood troublemaker, Eddie Haskell (Boy there's a double entendré innuendo for you, 'Beaver Cleaver').

These light-hearted situation comedies made us feel quite comfortable & cozy about our world of glamorous looking '56 Chevys & '57 Fords and our labor saving washers, dryers, and garbage disposals. It was all brought to us by the good folks from Kellogg (who nourished us with "wholesome" highly processed sugar-laden breakfast cereals), or General Electric (who urged us to "Live Better Electrically"), or DuPont ("Better Living Through Chemistry"), and many other fine upstanding companies.

It all looked so nice on the little black & white TV screen, while, behind the scenes, General Electric was contaminating our world with PCBs, DuPont was producing DDT (which very nearly sent Bald Eagles, Pelicans, and many other bird species to extinction), and Kellogg was morphing into part of the Frankenfood industry which today makes consumer products (I can't call it food) contaminated with GMOs, "not approved for human consumption".

Around that same time, our government was conducting experiments in biological warfare, and it was revealed---in the mainstream media many years afterwards---that my hometown, Reseda (once voted one of the 10 best places in America to raise a family), was among many other towns in the San Fernando Valley which were subjected to that experiment. We were unknowingly bombarded with mild cold or flu virus germs, released from airplanes, to test the effectiveness of spreading airborne viruses for military purposes.

I didn't know all of this at the time, but I was becoming aware enough of the real world around me to realize that much, if not most, of what was being spoonfed to me by my culture was a big stinking pile of pure unadulterated bullshit!

At this point, I not only questioned authority, I came to see our authority figures and experts as contemptible charlatans, nobody was speaking the truth!

Around 1955 or '56, we started hearing about some greasy rebellious singing hoodlum called, Elvis Presley, or 'Elvis the Pelvis' as he was known after his Milton Berle Show appearance. He was a big sensation, but not allowed to be viewed or listened to in our house, because he sang "jigaboo music" and gyrated his hips like a sex maniac!

I immediately sought out his records!

Another considerable influence on my own rapidly developing distrust and sense of rebellion was the reality of my parents divorcing when I was 12, and my diabetic father proceeding to drink himself to death by the time I was 15, in 1961.

He was 36 years old.

Then, just eight days after my 18th birthday, in 1963, President Kennedy was assassinated. Four and a half years later, Martin Luther King Jr. met the same fate, and two months after that, JFK's brother, Robert, was also killed.

By this point in time, me, and a sizable chunk of my generation had already turned on, tuned in, and dropped out!

When I made the photo above all of this ancient history was less than 10 years behind us, as fresh in my mind then as 9/11 is today.

Nixon was in the second term of his presidency, a few months away from being impeached over Watergate. He had just removed the dollar from the gold standard because America was too deep in debt from the Viet Nam War to be able to pay off our foreign obligations in gold.

The war was raging full-steam as draft-age American kids rioted in the streets, and four students at Kent State University had been gunned down by our own National Guard during an anti-war demonstration just a couple of years earlier, in May of 1970.

1970 was the same year America reached Peak Oil production (exactly on schedule with Marion King Hubbert's much ridiculed 1956 prediction), which received very little press in light of everything else that was going on in the country, I don't even remember hearing about it at the time.

Then, precisely one year after the above photograph was made, in October of 1973, the Arab members of OPEC, along with Egypt and Syria, began an oil embargo against the United States (related to American support of Israel), driving gasoline prices up something like 400% and creating fuel shortages, long lines, and gas rationing all across the country.

The embargo lasted 5 months and life in America would be changed forever...

"The 1973 oil price shock and the resulting 1973-74 stock market crash are said to be the first events since the Great Depression to have a persistant economic effect" (from Wikipedia).

Inflation (or stagflation---high prices and a stagnating economy), tied to rising energy costs, was the bane of the 1970s and early '80s.

That got people's attention, and cash-strapped Americans began buying inexpensive, fuel-efficient, foreign-built compact cars in large numbers, causing considerable consternation to the Big Three domestic automakers. GM, Ford, and Chrysler cried foul play and demanded government intervention which eventually resulted in import quotas on Japanese cars.

Buy American backlash gripped the country and budget-minded fuel-conserving owners of foreign cars (like me) were labled as traitors by some of our more over-zealous patriots.

The roots of road rage had been sewn...

It was also becoming quite obvious that American manufacturers couldn't compete with the cheap labor markets we had long exploited once these developing countries had their own modern industrial economies in place. So we began exporting our technology, and our jobs, leaving once thriving factories and towns to decay into the poverty-stricken rust-belt wastelands they are today.

One solution to the rising oil prices was the Trans-Alaska Pipeline, completed in 1977, 4 years after the Arab Oil Embargo. The pipeline, over the past 32 years, has conveyed a total of 16 billion barrels of oil from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez, Alaska, enough to supply America for about 26 months, and the Prudhoe Bay reserves are now in steep decline.

In 1989 the Exxon Valdez spilled 11 million gallons of that oil into Prince William Sound, killing between 250,000 and 500,000 seabirds, 1,000 Sea Otters, 300 Harbor Seals, 250 Bald Eagles, 22 Orcas, 12 river otters, and billions of salmon and herring eggs, not to mention the ruination of a pristine ecosystem.

Are Americans willing to accept that scale of environmental destruction for 26 months worth of oil (or maybe 52 months by the time the wells are dry)? Apparently so!

Over the past 37 years, since this picture was taken, we've endured no less than 6 recessions and a sober look into the causes reveals that oil prices played a central role in each of them.

Petroleum is the trump card upon which our entire economy is founded and the myriad of intertwined vested interests who speculate (gamble) in a stock market based on artificial currency can be brought down in minutes by any hint of instability.

And our economic house-of-cards is anything but stable...

Economic pressures, tied to energy prices and inflation, drove reactionary California voters, on June 6th, 1978, to pass Proposition 13 (the Jarvis Tax Amendment) which virtually destroyed the State's economy and infrastructure, including our school systems, police, and fire departments. California's education system went from being among the top 5 in the nation to among the bottom 10 in very short order. And the tax burden of my parents generation (who benefitted greatly from the property value gains they accrued during the inflationary years) was simply transferred, in multiples, to the shoulders of my generation who were also paying highly inflated interest on our mortgages.

In the early 1980s, during Ronald Reagan's deregulation years (America's most cherished president), we descended from the world's largest creditor nation to a debtor nation, and by 2006 we would be the world's largest debtor nation.

So the redistribution of wealth, from the working-class to the upper-class---once so skillfully manipulated by the robber-barons of the late 1800s & early 1900s---was reborn and supersized, as was the the political polarization between the rich and the poor, and between 'so-called' conservatives & liberals (so-called because the conservatives don't conserve & the liberals don't liberate).

In times of economic crises, when upward mobility is out of reach of the average person and resources are scarce and expensive, the ultra-rich and powerful quickly expand their holdings to become even more so. Today, as during the Great Depression, surviving companies are in a feeding-frenzy over the corpses of their former competitors, buying them up as fast as they can (often with taxpayer dollars).

Consequently, you might notice, the market for exotic super-high-dollar luxury cars is booming right now, while the rest of the industry is either bankrupt or teetering on the edge.

As of 2005, out of 30 industrialized countries studied, the U.S. had the 3rd highest inequality and poverty rate, with Mexico at number 2 and Turkey at number 1.

As billionaires increase in numbers, and corporations become bigger and more powerful, that power is used to exert more control over the governments of the world by demanding less regulatory oversight, which leads to more social and environmental irresponsibiliy, and less accountability.

Over these past 37 years we've also witnessed countless corporate caused disasters of unprecedented magnitude, such as industrial accidents, oil spills, toxic waste spills, and economic meltdowns.

Details of many of these tragedies are engraved in my memory and they're also readily accessible on the internet for anyone who cares to educate themselves about the hard realities of our civilization.

There's no need for me to repeat all the gruesome details here, but I will post links to a few of them in case someone is interested in a refresher course.

1978 The Italian Dioxin Crises (Roche)

1978 Love Canal (Hooker Chemical/Occidental Petroleum)

1978 AMOCO Cadiz Oil Spill (AMOCO)

1979 Three Mile Island (Metropolitan Edison-Babcock & Wilcox)

1984 Bhopal Disaster (Union Carbide)

1985 Savings & Loan Crisis (deregulation)

1986 Chernobyl (regulatory failure)

1986 BSE Crisis-Mad Cow Disease (regulatory failure)

1988 Piper Alpha Platform Explosion (Occidental Petroleum)

1989 Lincoln Savings Bankruptcy (Charles Keating/Keating 5)

1989 Junk Bond Scandal - (Michael Milken)

2000 Dot-Com Bubble (venture capital speculation)

2001 Enron Bankruptcy (Kenneth Lay - accounting fraud)

2008 The U.S. Housing Bubble & Subprime Mortgage Crisis (deregulation)

2009 Bernie Madoff Securities Fraud (regulatory failure)

2009 General Motors & Chrysler Bankruptcies ("The Great Recession")

OK, so those are just a sampling of the most memorable anthropogenic calamities of the past several decades, and they truly only hint at the destructive chaos reverberating exponentially throughout our economies, our ecosystems, and our civilization as a whole.

The cost of all this to our society in economic terms is staggering and our descendents will be paying for our stupidity for generations to come.

But the real tragedy is the destruction we're wreaking upon the living diversity of this planet. 20% of mammal species, and 25% of bird species are expected to be extinct before the end of the century. Many of the worlds fisheries have already crashed and many more are on the brink. Our air and water is polluted, even in the most remote parts of the world, and our climate is warming, melting the polar ice, and raising sea levels.

All of this is being hastened by a single species which has lost its bearings and no longer has the capability of living sustainably upon the planet it evolved from, and with.

It should be easy to hate such a selfish and destructive species, but I can only find empathy and compassion in my heart for my fellow humans.

I can see that, as a civilization, we are quite helpless at this point to reverse the momentum (or even slow it significantly) that is leading us toward collapse and die-off. A hundred years from now our population, as well as the plentiful bounty we inherited, will have been severely decimated.

I have instinctively felt this my entire adult life and nothing I've witnessed in 64 years has done anything but intensify that feeling.

Nevertheless, I can't live a life dominated by doom & gloom, people want to enjoy their lives, and I'm no exception.

Like everyone else I need to experience happiness and joy in my heart, to know beauty and love.

After a very difficult adolescence, trying to come to terms with the awful mess the world was in, I turned back to nature, to pollywogs, butterflies, and banana slugs, where I rediscovered the beauty I desperately needed to survive amidst the ugliness of my civilization.

Once I immersed myself in the natural beauty around me again, for the first time since childhood, I also began encountering thoughtful sensitive human beings, mostly through their writings or conservation work, kindred souls who share my love of the natural world and abhor its destruction.

Now, all those shining lights among my species are too numerous to list here, but I want to acknowledge the ones that stand out right this moment.

First and Foremost

~ Bob Dylan ~

Because the bard of my generation long ago refreshed my ability to listen and to think, and he still does!

And then there's

John Muir

John Lennon (Imagine)

Edward Abbey

Henry David Thoreau

Gandhi

Rachel Carson

Aldo Leopold

Dave Foreman

John Burroughs

Gary Paul Nabham

E. O. Wilson

William R. Catton

Charles Darwin

Arne Naess

Wendell Berry

Alexander Von Humboldt

David James Duncan

Charles Francis Saunders

Bill Devall

David Quammen

Stephanie Mills

George Sessions

David W. Orr

Paul Shepard

Barry Lopez

Richard Heinberg

Gary Snyder

Peter Matthiessen

John Michael Greer

Without these voices, and so very many others, my spirit would've perished many years ago and surely taken my body with it.

They helped restore my faith in humanity and expanded my capacity for love and compassion.

Wild Nature, and lover's of the wild & natural, are the most inspiring companions I've found during my continuing journey through parts of two centuries.

And my empathy for all concerned stems from the realization that we're all victims trapped in the same out of control vehicle.

A civilization is simply a vehicle created to get you from one place to another, from yesterday to tomorrow, so to speak. A few civilizations have traveled several millenium before running out of gas, and a few very old ones haven't perished yet.

Today's industrial civilization burst upon the scene barely 250 years ago, as we began taking advantage of the energy available in refined coal, one of our most abundant fossil fuels. But things didn't really get rolling for another century when Colonel Edwin Drake drilled the first oil well in the United States, in Titusville, Pennsylvania, in 1859, exactly 150 years ago.

I'm 64, and have witnessed unimaginable changes during my life, and I remember much of it as if it were yesterday. If you simply double my current lifespan, you get 128 years, add another 22 years and we're back to the dawn of the Petroleum Age.

Basically, the day before yesterday on the scale of human history, or a fraction of a second in geological time.

During that blink of an eye, by best estimates, we've used up about half the oil available to us, oil that was millions upon millions of years in the making, and the half we've used was the stuff that was easy to procure, thus cheap to produce.

Modern civilization is completely dependent upon the kind of growth enabled by that cheap abundant energy source, it's how Capitalism and the economic myth of unlimited growth came into dominance.

Planet Earth now harbors more than 6.5 billion souls whose survival requires the perpetuation of an obsolete system on the brink of collapse.

We are always led to believe, by those who make lofty political promises, by those who can afford to make glitzy media presentations, by those who want to sell us something, that our future is rosy if we'll just knuckle down long enough to get over the current hump.

Well, we're at the apex of a hump now alright, and ironically, it very much resembles the hump of that Arabian Dromedary Camel on the cigarette pack in my turban. Our hump is known in peak oil circles as the Hubbert's Peak Bell Curve, and we are about to slide down the slippery slope of its backside, and things don't look so rosy.

World oil production has recently peaked (see chart), 39 years after America reached peak oil production in 1970.

Our civilization, the vehicle we are currently traveling within, is steered by emperors who would have us believe that we ride a magic bus, exempt from the laws of nature or any limits to growth.

But the truth of the matter is, our magic bus is just a broken down heap, headed for the junkyard, and the emperor has no clothes once again.

Journal entry

December 15, 2009

© 2009 jim otterstrom

Labels: , , , , , ,

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Looking Back From The Future, Part 1:

A Cargo Cult Shrine...
Click on photo to enlarge - © 2007-2009 jim otterstrom
...to the Myth of Unlimited Fossil Fuels.
As oil became scarce and expensive, toward the end of the brief but fantastic 200 year Petroleum Age, people built shrines to the oil and automobile culture, continuing to drive their gas-guzzlers in the belief that some new technology would soon produce a cheap replacement for the once abundant fossil fuels which made such extravagance possible.
Unfortunately, they were wrong...
The historical photograph above was made at an actual working tire and wheel store, in one of the 10 most affluent well-educated counties in America, during the early years of the 21st Century.
Such folly seems unimaginable today as those of us who remain scavenge the grotesque ruins of that addictively consumptive oil-addled civilization for tools and materials to help make our humble lives of meager subsistence a bit easier.
But even now, scattered on the fringes of crumbling cities, there are deeply religious and highly volatile cargo cults who maintain vigils and conduct Sunday Prayer Services in ancient Gasoline Station Temples (This custom is rooted in practices beginning as early as 2008, as archived here and here).
Devotees can sometimes keep electric lights on, during sunny days, with scavenged jury-rigged solar panels and the few, dim but priceless, still working LED bulbs they've managed to scrounge.
These poor souls will explain to you, with a desperate distant gleam in their eyes, that they must keep the places "open for business" as much as possible because nobody knows for sure when the big tanker will return to fill their underground reservoirs again.
Twice a year, in late December and early April, you'll see hundreds of the devout, chanting and singing, as they make their sacred pilgrimages to distant rusted out refineries, or long dead oilfields, where they burn effigies of M. King Hubbert.
It's a pitiful and somewhat scary experience to encounter these fanatical groups who cling so mindlessly to obsolete mythologies.
But don't ever ridicule or make fun of their beliefs and rituals, they are known to become violent when confronted with conflicting viewpoints.
Anonymous journal entry
December 12, 2163
© 2009 jim otterstrom

Labels: , , , , , ,

voicexml
voicexml
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.