Jack Burns Lives!

Marc Weingarten’s recent pontification concerning Postcards From Ed: Dispatches and Salvos from an American Iconoclast, screams for attention. He reminds me of a little child that throws toys across the room and stomps its feet until everyone turns around, looks and stops what they were doing.

Just a lot of unnecessary grandstanding.

The review is highly critical of Abbey, essentially saying Abbey was little more than an old curmudgeon that never had a nice thing to say about anything. A “nasty crank” lacking “generosity of spirit.”

Ed would probably be quite pleased that after all these years, he’s still getting hammered by book reviewers. Been dead nearly twenty years and still pissin’ people off!

About all I can say is Weingarten doesn’t understand Abbey very well. He states that Abbey “is not a warm and fuzzy figure, someone to embrace like a benevolent uncle.” Well, Ed didn’t want to be warm and fuzzy! Ed wrote “to provoke, to challenge, to exasperate and infuriate,” and generally didn’t give a damn about being popular, especially with reviewers. I suppose being snubbed by the east coast aristocracy gnawed at him a little. No one likes rejection. But Abbey believed that telling the truth, no matter how ugly it may be, is the most important item of business. That’s exactly what he did and exactly why he’s long been a target of people like Weingarten.

Some people just can’t handle the truth. They don’t like hearing the truth about their cultural darlings, that their writing was crap, their music was crap and that our preoccupation with cultural crap, instead of vital, critical issues, is a big part of the problem. Note: Lindsey Lohan, Paris Hilton and who’s screwing Brad Pitt this week.

Abbey called it like he saw it, and he wasn’t afraid to do it, reviewers be damned!

Ed is anything but an anachronism, and his writings have perhaps more relevance today than they did in the ’60′s and in the ’70′s. Who’s better qualified to awaken the insouciant masses from their stupor than Edward Abbey?

Here’s to you, Ed.

Happy birthday to Howard Zinn, who turns 85 today.

Howard is of course a leading intellectual and one of the great historians of this century. And like Chomsky, perhaps our greatest intellectual, a leading dissident and propagator of leftist thought in the United States.

But neither Zinn or Chomsky are getting any younger. Neither is Gary Snyder. We’ve already lost Abbey and Bookchin. So, who’s left to carry the torch?

I had some hope for David Graeber, an anarchist and anthropologist that was an associate professor of anthropology at Yale University. Unfortunately, his politics didn’t mix well with the Yale elite, as a result, he lost his contract and is now scheduled to begin teaching at The University of London this fall.

Nice way to keep everything quiet. Blacklist the guy and force him out of the country.

By the way, if you’re interested in some of his work, you can download Fragments of An Anarchist Anthropology here.

Kirkpatrick Sale? Peter Berg?

Maybe the torch of leadership has passed to all of us. If you think about it, it’s really been there all along. Real people in communities facing the real challenges of ecological breakdown and the assault on democracy by our own so-called democratic leaders. We’re all leaders, and it’s up to all of us to verbalize and demonstrate in our daily actions how freedom and ecology are so intertwined. To carry on the message of Abbey and others that wilderness and a healthy environment are essential components of a free human being:

“We can have wilderness without freedom; we can have wilderness without human life at all, but we cannot have freedom without wilderness, we cannot have freedom without leagues of open space beyond the cities, where boys and girls, men and women, can live at least part of their lives under no control but their own desires and abilities, free from any and all direct administration by their fellow men.” Freedom and Wilderness, The Journey Home.

Too many liberals these days correctly recognize the problem but fail to see the solution. They continue to look to status quo politics and Washington for answers to problems that can’t be solved in Washington. It’s as if they’re looking ahead at a raging river and the only escape is an old bridge that will almost certainly fail. That old bridge is called the status quo, and if we keep looking to the same old solutions, we most certainly will fail to meet the challenges ahead. What’s needed is a new approach. Something completely different. Something that’s the antithesis of the current approach, which is built on hierarchy, centralized control and continuous growth economics.

To be successful, we need to reestablish bioregionalism. We need decentralization and the abolishment of hierarchy. Community based democracy and steady state economics limited by biological and geophysical reality.

Everything must change, and it will change whether humans are on board or not.

As I listen to the national buffoon pontificate about Iraq and Vietnam and watch many of his fellow Republicans scurry like rats for political cover (Lamar Alexander is a good example), I’m convinced more than ever that one of the first steps for us to take is to consistently pursue and demand a sensible, radically different dialog about the role of war and militarism in our society. Howard Zinn wrote that “war inherently unjust, and the great challenge of our time is how to deal with evil, tyranny, and oppression without killing huge numbers of people.” Well, that’s one of the challenges. Perhaps a greater challenge is to get more people to see the root of the problem, which is an “economic system that needs war and makes war inevitable.”

We’re held hostage by militarism in this country and by an economic system that depends on militarism for its lifeline.

Changing this won’t be easy, especially in a nation where any criticism of the President or of our war du jour is quickly labeled anti-American or even treasonous. To which I respond, being critical of and challenging your government is probably the most American thing you can do.

You can’t be afraid to be vocal. You can’t fear the obloquy of the fearful, illiterate swarm that will want to tar and feather anyone that dares question the growth machine and its protectorate, the United States military.

This is what folks like Howard Zinn have been doing for years. Standing up and telling the truth, regardless of how ugly the truth may be. As Abbey said, “follow the truth no matter where it leads you.”

Now it’s our turn.

If you’re looking at the map, I live in that orange area where Tennessee, Mississippi and Arkansas come together.

The heat and drought are bearing down in Mississippi Delta. Trees are dying, non-native plants (as they should) are dying, people are dying, and for yet another week, we have heat indices in the 105 to 110 degree range.

According to the National Weather Service, the Delta is in the extreme drought category D3, the second worst of a five level classification. 2007 is one of the five driest years in history for this part of the Delta, the driest since 1936. Year to date, we have a deficit of 14.26 inches of rain.

It’s expected to continue through August, and since September and October are traditionally amongst our driest months, there’s really no relief in sight.

Fields of corn are ruined, and farmers hoping to cash in on the ethanol Trojan Horse may be facing some significant financial losses. Corn is an environmentally intensive crop, requiring prodigious amounts of water and fertilizer. To convert it to fuel, you end up with a net energy loss approaching or possibly exceeding 65%. Not too smart, as my grandma used to say.

And while there are no water rationing orders, thanks to a increasingly over used but resilient and bountiful aquifer (Memphis has the best drinking water, hands down, in the world), it should be clear to any thinking person that trying to maintain a deep green lawn makes no sense whatsoever. Certainly not in these conditions or any, for that matter.

Which brings me to another question. Why do people water and fertilize their lawns to the max so they’ll grow like crazy and then need to be cut? Fertilize, water, grow and cut. Repeat. Repeat again. Use fossil fuel all along the way and repeat again. Again, not too smart.

If there’s anything to be learned from this, it’s who’s really in charge. Mother Nature of course, that often inconvenient but inescapable reality that often toys with the folly of men and their markets.

I’m going to sit in the shade and have a mint julep.

“The rain is famous for falling on the just and unjust alike, but if I had the management of such affairs I would rain softly and sweetly on the just, but if I caught a sample of the unjust out doors I would drown him.” -Mark Twain

I had the privilege of finding this fine specimen in the garden today. A Cooper’s Hawk, probably the one that’s been circling overhead the past few weeks and picking off Morning dove, sparrows and possibly a chipmunk.

We had a stray kitten hanging around for a couple of days, but I don’t think it took the cat. At least I hope not.

The hawk and I sat together for about a half hour. I enjoyed its company. It endured mine.

I’ve noticed that during the recent drought, their forays into the area have been more frequent. I suspect it’s because the birds and squirrels are coming to the bird bath for water and are easy pickin’ should they linger too long.

Eventually, it moved on, deciding perhaps my neighbor might have something to offer. Here’s a video or two, but be forewarned. They are large files, so be prepared for a minute or so of download time, possibly more depending on your connection speed.

Four Corners

September 14-16

My friend and fellow enviro-meddler Hayduke unintentionally spoiled my peaceful Saturday evening with this post about a return of the military draft. Not a topic I really care to think about while I’m trying to relax with a book and a glass of wine.

Should have stuck with the book and stayed off the Internet. Nobody’s fault but mine.

It’s good that he made the post, however, because it’s an important discussion that reveals a lot about the war machine and how it works.

People have been talking about a return of the draft ever since it died after Vietnam. To date, it’s been unable to sustain momentum, because a lot of wealthy GOP supporters can’t fathom the thought of little Treadwell being hauled off to some foreign land and being shot at by heathens.

But the cacophony is growing louder, because the ruling elite can no longer fight its financially motivated wars with volunteers. They’re fatigued and resorting to guzzling RedBull just to get through the day. Too frequently, these are easily duped young men from the financial underclass looking for ways to escape economic dead ends. They believe the lies told my military recruiters. I call them The Duped. Some young men and women are from regular, middle class families, have decent educations and believe they are really serving their country. They’re also part of The Duped.

Others have a blood lust and eagerly seek an opportunity to kill other human beings. They’re easy to spot.

I hear them talking in gym, and the things I hear are shocking. Talk of razing entire countries. “Taking care of the liberal problem.” The rabid right wing, drunk on an elixir of hate and fear brewed by goose-stepping media loudmouths like Limbaugh, Coulter, O’Reilly and Falwell. Thank god Falwell is dead.

They’re knuckle dragging, ignorant louts obsessed with militarism and jacked up on too much testosterone. They live their lives in a constant state of fear and anger. They are The Ugly.

I’m still looking for The Good.

Much has changed since the Second World War generation responded to the call against a legitimate threat. Of course, all is not exactly as it seemed in that war, either, and the fact that most people tend to forget is that the United States hasn’t faced a serious invasion or threat of invasion of its soil since The War of 1812. Pearl Harbor doesn’t count. It was a territory, not a state, taken from its indigenous habitants for economic reasons. What we’re left with today is a military that is largely used as the global enforcement arm of industrial capitalism, not protection of our “freedoms.”

Folks, I’m here to tell you and your children have been fed a steady stream of lies.

Hayduke and others argue that the draft is the best way of stopping the war, and this could very well be true, since the country club set will vehemently object to having their little rep tie wearing Winthrop’s sent off to war. Goodbye Hampton-Sydney and Sigma Chi. Hello Baghdad and car bombs.

I’ve objected to the war from the start and for reasons that should be obvious to anyone with a functioning brain. And I’m also here to tell you that my two sons aren’t going anywhere. They don’t want to support the war, and I won’t allow them to be used as pawns in a capitalist tragedy.

My initial reaction to all of this is to grab the scatter gun and tell the feds to come and try. I suppose this is rooted in my Southern heritage (we have a history of being willing to fight the feds, you might recall) and from spending too much time studying the Civil War. Maybe I took Abbey’s Fire On The Mountain a little too seriously. For those unfamiliar with this great book, it’s a story of an old New Mexico rancher, John Vogelin, that refuses to sell his ranch property to the government. The government needs it for “the national defense.” For the expansion of a missile range, as I recall.

This, of course, is foolish talk and will most certainly get me killed. One bullet from a sniper sitting at my neighbor’s (who would gladly assist the war effort) house, and I’m food for the beetles.

Guess we could leave, but where do you go? There’s nowhere to hide.

Declare ourselves pacifists that object to the war on moral principles, but how the hell does that work when you are depending on irrational people to make a reasonable decision?

Prison, like Paul Bondi? Bondi is a character in The Brave Cowboy that is sent to prison for two years for refusing to register for the draft. Jack Burns gets himself thrown into jail in order to free Bondi, but Bondi refuses to leave because he refuses to be “haunted by surrender for the rest of his life.”

Choices, none of which are easy. The one thing that does seem clear is we must resist. We must not give in, and we must stand firm on the principle of non-violence, regardless of the cost.

The heat is upon us, bearing down on all life. The sparrows, chipmunks and squirrels rarely leave their dens, only in the mornings and evenings, when the blazing sun shrinks downward, behind the trees.

It’s 101º in the Delta today, and it could 106º on Monday.

Even the famously hot habanero bows to the prodigious heat.

Anyone that has read my meager scribblings for long knows that I have a childlike fascination with simple things, particularly spiders. This afternoon, as I sat beside a lavender plant, I carefully watched a small arachnid busy itself with the construction of a home. The construction is an architectural wonder, smartly placed in just the right spot, so that is concealed and protected from the elements and also in an opening that will attract its dinner.

The flying buttresses of silk extend upward and outward, securely attached to the stalks of the flowering herb. It’s builder hangs motionless, waiting.

A Black and Yellow Garden Spider (Argiope aurantia) lives in the basil and is one of my favorite species. These are a well known spider of the American garden. Ferocious looking but a definite garden friend, the females can grow to 3 inches in diameter. They’re orb weavers that utilize a unique feature called a stabilimentum in the center of their web.

At 3:00 PM, they are the only active signs of life in the garden.

Roughly 1000 miles away, another life form, an unintelligent life form, is busy making its plans. Heat nor rationality are deterrents. There are markets to open. Villages to raid and bomb into rubble. Propaganda to propagate in preparation for the next mission. Wars and rumors of wars.

Anyone that dares question the reigning despot is marginalized. Labeled unpatriotic. Insane. Unstable. Dangerous! Disloyal.

Meine Ehre heißt Treue

In this frenzied period of nationalism, witness the assault on human rights, the creation of enemies and the use of fear as a propaganda tool. The propagandizing of the citizenry by the media and control of the media by the ruling junta. An obsession with militarism.

A rise of corporatism and religious fanaticism to the point where they are indistinguishable from government. Corruption. Hatred of intellectuals.

Sound familiar?

I have no idea what can be done. It seems the thing will simply have to burn itself out. You and I can hasten the process by refusing to participate and by speaking out. And while a massive sway in public opinion helped end Vietnam, my instinct tells me there’s something different about this bunch. There’s something much more sinister than just a bunch of white guys in suits carrying out the mantra of growth and support for the military industrial complex. Yep, this bunch smells different, and I fear they will not willingly relinquish control of power.

There’s too much fanaticism. Religious overtones and that weird belief that some god is calling them to do these things. That there’s some higher purpose here, some bizarre, manifest destiny

Well, back to the garden for me.

Stay vigilant friends. Be mindful of history and question everything. Like the chipmunks and sparrows, we may need to retreat to our dens until the heat passes. Throughout history, artists, intellectuals, writers, philosophers, dissidents and patriots have had to go underground during dark periods, only to reemerge when the danger passes. I’m not saying to lie down and to not resist. But we must be careful how we resist. We cannot meet force with force. I believe a more plausible strategy is to allow this regime collapse under the weight of its own immoral behavior and bad karma. It will happen, and we may get some help from Peak Oil, shrinking aquifers and collapsing financial markets. Hard to create and run all those machines and armies without oil, water and money. Hate and greed won’t fuel the machine.

But be wary. As these things unfold, those in power will attempt to strengthen their grip and crush anyone that dares question their god given right of rule. Our society could devolve into Abbey’s brutal vision described in Good News, a brave new world so nightmarish and dark, the horrors are unimaginable.

Sort of like what the Iraqis are experiencing right now, as U.S. soldiers not only kill so-called enemy combatants, they rape, torture and murder young children.

Hell is on earth and the dark future is now.

Let us proclaim the mystery of faith. Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.

So sayeth the Catholic priest at today’s funeral mass.

I had the misfortune of attending a funeral today. A full Catholic burial mass. If you’ve never been to one or aren’t familiar with Catholic rites and ceremony, it’s a formal affair that always leaves me feeling like I’ve been sucked into a well organized and financed cult.

The priest was clearly intoxicated, slurring his words, rambling on and on and on, at times seeming to forget who or what he was talking about. I gave one of his utterances careful consideration as the worshipers and mourners filed forward to eat Jesus’ body and drink his blood:

“God didn’t invent death. We brought death by turning away from God.”

Really an amazing statement.

Lets pretend the Christian story is true for a moment and go all the way back to the Garden of Eden (are you old enough to remember “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”?) where there is no death.

Now, to be fair, I realize that some Christians see the Garden as more of an allegory. Others, mostly Southern fundamentalists but also more mainstream groups, believe it really went down that way. A garden with no sin, a lonely man, a women created from a rib, a devil disguised as a snake and some really sweet, irresistible apples. Landscaping brought to you by Trugreen.

So, here we are with no sin. There’s a man and a woman. Suppose for a moment the first two humans obeyed and didn’t eat the fruit. What does or what would a world with no sin, and therefore no death (remember it’s our fault) look like?

Could Adam and Eve (important to note that’s not Adam and Steve) have sex and not sin? The absolute and flawless Bible is silent on this topic. And if they had sex, isn’t it likely they would have created offspring, and their offspring would have created offspring (incest), and the cycle would continue and repeat itself, as it has, but without death?

Hmmm. That idea, in and of itself, is the complete antithesis of everything we know about ecology. A world with no death? There are already nearly 7 billion humans swarming around, but think about no death for a minute. Where does that leave us? Maybe God would build an annex for us? Another planet?

The whole idea, of course, is completely insane and only a wilfully irrational or naive person could believe such nonsense. Christians always have an answer, though. A good Christian apologist will tell you that you can’t understand this because your mind is finite and that you have to accept these things on faith.

I found the whole idea of this drunken priest spewing forth such nonsense to a room full of believers really incredible. Beyond bizarre. Yet, it’s the norm. Millions upon millions believe this fairy tale. And that, amigos, is the real mystery of faith.

And speaking of death, the whole death industry makes me want to vomit. You take a dead body, organic material, and for a few thousand dollars, you jack it up with chemicals so you can “preserve” it for some undetermined amount of time? For what? The Second Coming? A future archaeological dig?

Then you bury the body in a metal casket in a concrete vault for a few thousand more dollars. Probably about ten grand in all. Maybe more. It’s one of the most ecologically unsound and ridiculously stupid things I’ve ever heard of it, yet, as with religion, millions of non-thinkers fall for the ruse every day.

Me? I’ve left firm instructions for no embalming. No caskets or funerals. Just put me in my favorite down sleeping bag and dump me in the ground. Abbey style under some rocks in the desert is fine. A Gram Parsons bonfire is okay, as well, although that might not be the best solution ecologically speaking.

My brother-in-law and I also have a pact to never let either linger in a hospital with tubes poking in and out of every orifice. Like Abbey, just carry me outside somewhere and let me die under a big old tree or in a canyon. If I’m terminal but able, maybe I’ll wander off like Lew Welch and end it with a pistol.

But no goddamn hospitals and no goddamn caskets, chemicals, cash hungry funeral directors or Catholic priests. Just a new phase in the circle of life and a celebration of life.

By the way, was Jesus a blond?