The Burning House

What would you rescue from your burning house? http://theburninghouse.com/

- Book about my grandpa's adventures as a young man in New Zealand
- Water bottle
- Hat
- Levi's belt
- Laptop
- Well-worn Toms
- Favorite shirt
- Ivory box from NZ
- Favorite mug
- Pocketknives
- Necklace from a special someone
- iPod
- ring


What about you?

Human Ecology

I've come to the realization as of late that much of the world's problems can be explained in biological and ecological terms. For me, these parallels are re-affirmed the notion that we as human beings are still innately and inextricably a part of nature. We are as natural as anything else in this world. Hard to believe, I know. But just take a minute to think about some of this:

The variety of cultures and indigenous peoples on Earth can be likened to the concept of species richness, which is simply the number of different species in a given system. Since the globalization of our world, the number of unique cultures has precipitously declined (along with actual species richness). Diversity, after all, is largely predicated on isolation. Speciation, or the development of new species, is a result of adaptation to unique habitat pressures. A delicate balance is struck, in tune with a species's (or culture's) specific niche. The introduction of Western culture, then, disturbs this balance with the introduction of disease, new tools, new ideas etc. This Western force homogenizes these indigenous populations, decreasing their overall occurrence in nature. It's like planting the same grass on every continent rather than having native species perfectly suited to climatic conditions (just look what happened to the American prairie lands, replaced by corn mono-crops). The 'developed world' is thus destroying our world's cultural richness. Biodiversity, however, is nature's primary means of enduring unforeseen catastrophes. There could never have been a potato famine in indigenous South America because of the thousands of varieties, each with its own strengths and weaknesses, immunities and vulnerabilities. The health and continuance of life, essentially, is predicated upon variability. Thus you can see why a global cultural and economic hegemony like the United States is simply bad science.

To continue the comparisons, the U.S. can be labeled a 'generalist predator.' This means a predator that can subsist on a whole host of different resources, and has no specific diet (unlike Koalas which only eat Eucalyptus). This then stands in contrast to the indigenous cultures that are effectively 'specialist predators'. Their diets are determined by their regional limitations and tribal knowledge. Their continued survival depends on the continued availability of certain local resources. Unfortunately, the U.S. and the developed world at large has begun to prey upon this cultures, eating them up one by one. Because of its generalist diet, the Western world's survival is not endangered by the disappearance of these local communities. It's the basic biological principle that a generalist predator can drive its prey exist while a specialist predator does not, else it kills itself off.

I've been using the term 'culture' very loosely here of course. It encompasses all kinds of things like language, food, knowledge of the local flora and fauna, histories and so on. The lose of these resources leaves us all the more vulnerable to the ravages of mother nature. A great deal of our present 'civilized' knowledge was gleaned or appropriated from native peoples. We need them. But with our increasingly globalized world, we're destroying our most valuable resources. It's all island biogeography and intermediate disturbance theory when it comes down to it. We're creating new climax communities, forever altering the biological and ecological landscape of the Earth. Soon enough we're going to run out of new genetic material (or cultural material) to adapt to forthcoming challenges as a species.

And I'm sorry if this post comes across as rather confused and haphazard. It probably contains a few jumps in logic. I was just very excited about making some of these connections. And perhaps they only make sense in my head. The main point is there though, that the human species and its relationship to itself is governed by the same ecological principles that we use to understand plants and animals. This should remind us then that we irrefutably a part of nature and that perhaps our actions are not so unique after all. We simply manifest the same principles of resource competition, colonization, predation etc. in a different fashion.

New Political Stratagem

Storytime

So the other day I hopped in the minivan of a friend of a friend's dad's friend who lives here in Walla (confusing I know). We then proceeded to drive about 15 minutes east to a tiny collection of homes called Dixie. In this po-dunk town, however, exists a marvel of amateur naturalism.

Tom Lamb, an ancient and now decaying old man, has been feeding hummingbirds around his home for 11 years. What started out as an extra feeder as a compromise for two competing hummingbirds blossomed into a splendid array of countless birdfeeders. Sprouting from trees, gutter sidings, fenceposts and so on, the Lamb property is awash in a sea of scarlet sugar-water.

The birds of course increased exponentially with this fantastic food source. In fact, Dixie has become such a significant feeding station for the bids that it is now a part of their migratory vectors. Literal clouds of these amazingly agile little creatures descend at the first hints of Spring.

And what does Tom Lamb do? He sits and watches. The flashes of iridescent color boldly shooting around the yard. Purples, oranges, reds and greens flitting by with equal speed. It is truly quite a sight. Which is why the home of Tom Lamb has become a tourist attraction of sorts. The only free for which is a bit of good old fashioned conversation with the proprietor. He lives for the comfort of the birds and passersby since the loss of his wife.

Even with his faltering physical state, Tom remains startlingly knowledgeable about his seasonal guests. As I tossed penny questions into this cavernous well of experience, I was reminded of a few things Aldo Leopold wrote in his Essays from Round River.

A hobby should be useless. The more useless the better. If, perchance, one's hobby is natural history, they may inadvertently produce something worthwhile. Amateurs become experts in their lives' constant diversions. Tom, for example, is an expert on all things that hum and dart. As a testament to this, U.S. Wildlife officials have utilized Tom's hummingbird metropolis as a research station, capturing and banding a great many of them. Some of which ended up as far south as Mexico in the Winter.


And basically, I thought all of this was simply too bizarre and unique not to share. It was certainly a surreal personal experience for me. And it carried interesting resonances with some of my leisure reading of Mr. Leopold.

So find yourself a hobby. Who knows what may come of it.

French Lessons

Last night I watched an obscure documentary titled Food Beware: The French Organic Movement. Contrary to the expansive-sounding title however, the film essentially chronicled the efforts of one small town (Barjac) to transition into an organic lifestyle. The focus was largely on a private elementary school in which the new organic menu was test-driven by youthful palates. The children also received hands-on education in the garden and even learned songs rife with environmental lyrics. Oh, and it's a Catholic school. Oftentimes those themes don't jive, but in Barjac they coexist perfectly. Anyways, I was truly struck by the progressive education these students were receiving. And especially what the cafeteria was serving; even before the shift. The school employs real chefs in their kitchen to prepare the foods and supervise the eating habits of the children. They already offered a wonderful variety of vegetables, pasta, bread, fruit and yogurt. With the shift to local and organic, the options only improved (no more troublesome pesticides or additives). This easily puts France at least two steps ahead of the U.S. Before the States can even begin to worry about pesticides, they have to get kids to even eat fruits and vegetables. Hell, when I was that age, I had no idea what lentils or radishes were. The point is, America really needs to pick up the pace.

Admittedly though, there are any number of disparaging critiques one could make of this film (i.e. The residents are clearly affluent and their children are privileged; they have access to great agricultural resources; they're French). Still, the main message I got out it was that even in a perfectly picturesque town such Barjac, nestled in the scenic foothills, the horrors of industrialized agriculture still lurk. The film dealt heavily with the detrimental effects of pesticides on farmworkers and their families. An ungodly number of chemicals is sprayed on the vast majority of French crops. The Iowa corn belt isn't the only place that has pesticide issues. Child leukemia has skyrocketed in the region among other various inexplicable ailments. There's no denying that the community is suffering as a result of conventional practices when farmers get nosebleeds while mixing the day's pesticide concoction.

Some might find this documentary a little less than thrilling, but I really thought it had some important insights to offer, and Barjac is wonderfully progressive example for our small communities to follow. The mayor was a charmingly idealistic fellow who wasn't afraid of face-to-face communication with the people. He brought together individuals on both sides of the issues for discussion. Many of their differences melted away once they actual sat and spoke to one another. Certainly heartening to see.

But ultimately I just want people to keep in mind that even the most privileged among us suffer, but that we can make great progress collectively.

Also, the movie is available through Netflix Instant-Watch if you're curious.

Requisite Reading

This sums up much of what I'd like to see happen on a local scale. We need to expand our understanding of our roles as members of human ecological systems. Single-mindedness is the enemy.


Completely unrelatedly; Autopsy.

Cultivating Creative, Climate-Sensitive Communities

The fight against climate change can be most effectively waged at the community level. That's where the creative solutions and unique ideas are forged. It's through that initial interaction of closely-tied individuals that will produce results. These can then be tempered by the state and federal governments in the form of policy and so forth. Amendments to transportation, food access/distribution and overall material consumption are best negotiated by those who live and breathe in those unique locales. There are strengths and weaknesses in each of these communities that must be taken into consideration and exploited for the best possible ends. Not only that, but a certain emotional stake is necessary in the proceedings at hand, lest we collectively fall into the overwhelmed apathy of the issue's vastness. When the movement truly has that community heart, then we can have faith in its progress and endurance.

Here are a few examples of creative community projects I've come across:

- Harvesting fruit locally from untended and overhanging trees, and then distributing it to the underprivileged.
- Ripping up pavement in vacant spaces to make space for greenery (and also absorbing run-off).
- Creating distinctive bike lanes/paths or designating pedestrian-only zones.
- Community garden plots. Especially geared towards the underprivileged and those residing in 'food deserts'.
- Farmer's markets and Community Supported Agriculture (CSA)
- Hands-on agricultural education for children.
- Urban farming operations.
- Good old fashioned rallies and protests (a la 70's)
- Meeting local farmers personally or through social media.
- Directly connecting chefs with farmers.

The Agrarian Left

In case you haven't caught on, there's an odd paradox within the alternative food movement. It resides in the appropriation of agrarian morality as a progressive doctrine. The issue becomes one of liberalizing fundamentally conservative values and making them digestible for chic urbanites. For example, the agrarian model often entails strict gender roles accompanied by religious piety and patriarchal societal structures. Thus the alternative food movement, largely guided by the Left, is charged with wresting these anachronisms from their traditional respect and care for the land. Yet in some ways these barriers only exist if one acknowledges them. There is certainly potential for unconscious blending of themes. The two sides may be more easily allied if they don't conceive of themselves as cultural enemies. I think this paradox may be overcome once we cease to pigeonhole ourselves in either one camp or the other. Just some thoughts.

O.G. Hardcore

Let's talk a little bit about hardcore. Not the music genre per se, but rather the adjective itself. Breaking the word into its constituent parts, we find both 'hard' and 'core'. What exactly does their combination imply? Could it be physical toughness, emotional resilience, mental perseverance; or perhaps some combination thereof? I think no matter which characteristics we choose, our forebears far outperform even the most diehard Hatebreed fanatic. Man today is soft. In the developed world at least. He is largely catered to and cared for. Clearly this is not universally true, but the assumption is sufficient enough for my purposes.

Hardcore today is predominantly just a fun game we like to play before returning to the comfort of our cozy beds. Fans of hardcore may not back down from fights or any number of other 'hardcore' activities, but I find such machinations hardly admirable. Imagine instead the fortitude required to scrape out an existence for you and your family amongst the unforgiving wilderness. That was a true test of both body and mind. Granted, however, there are perhaps millions of people struggling to eek a living within our harsh concrete jungles. Which therefore qualifies them by my proposed standards. Yet I hardly think these individuals ascribe to the tenets of hardcore music, which is the issue I mean to take here. I'm really only writing this because the attitudes of genre largely strike me as an act.

My personal vision of hardcore is responsible self-reliance in the face of adversity, not the knuckleheaded stubbornness and war-mongering that lyrics tend to advocate. Homesteading, hunting, fishing, foraging, carpentry, etc. That shit is truly hardcore. No puffy jackets, posses, or flat-brimmed hats allowed. The pre-industrial man was hardcore. Nowadays the concept revolves mostly around misguided attitudes towards conflict and property lines. Despite the fact that it all takes place within the warm embrace of modern society. The music can surely make you feel invincible for its duration, but it's necessary to recognize the fragility of that illusion.

John Muir and his ilk truly represent American hardcore. Just a knapsack, boots, and a steady heart.

As much as I love hardcore music, its cultural baggage has always sort of bothered me. Adherents just takes themselves a little too seriously sometimes. Often without having earned that level of respect. That's all. I can dig the empowerment, self-affirmation and bids for social change however.

Below is the demographic I'm mostly detracting from in this post:

Everyone Should Listen To

Mammifer.

Spring Training

I've decided upon a new pastime. Go to some beautiful, idyllic locale, run or hike a ridiculous number of miles, then gorge myself on delicious artisanal foods. This is already the basic outline of my previous day hikes out in the Marin Headlands area, but I want to make such trips more frequent and more extreme. Consider it hardcore tourism. It also serves as training for my new goal of running a half marathon this coming summer. While there's certainly something to be said for taking leisurely hikes, eyes to the undergrowth, observing all the details, these runs will provide a more macroscopic view of the areas. Which I think may be equally easy to miss at times. It's not a big deal though, I can simply alternate between activities. Even so, many of these trips will have to wait until the academic year is through since Walla Walla doesn't exactly cater to such outings. There is still potential though. I did locate some Pt. Reyes Cowgirl Creamery cheese in a shop downtown today. Hooray foodie culture. Anyways, that's what I plan to do with my spring. Run. And then eat the best food that I can, keeping it as local and authentic as possible.

Get some.

Sunny Days Ahead

Now that we've had a sufficient number of apocalypse-related posts, I think it's time to celebrate the fact that spring is finally here! Take heart friend, there are sunny days ahead. That means new life, renewal, entire days spent outdoors with friends. All those lovely connotations. Spring is when mother nature makes her greatest showing. The landscape is suddenly splashed with color, bathed in golden light. Birds flit between trees wreathed in flowers. I'll cut the poorly crafted imagery already though. What I really want to say is that we should take a moment to recognize the awesome power that nature wields, bastardized as it may be by the intervention of civilization. It still thrives despite our persistent attempts to subdue or possess it. Nature will outlive us. While this is by no means a justification for mindless resource consumption, it should come across as slightly comforting. Sit and be humbled by springs regenerative capacity.

Now that we've been humbled, get out there and make the most of spring! Enjoy the delicious fresh fruits, vegetables and flowers that are currently poking their way through buds, husks, soil, meristems, etc. I don't think there's an excuse not to live a healthy, happy, active life when it's 70 degrees and sunny out. So yeah. That's how I feel. Optimistic. I'm looking forward to friends, family, food and fun in the coming months. Spring is the perfect time to reflect upon and live in the harmony of nature. We're all part of the same system after all. We are by no means separated from the world around us. Enjoy it.

Courting the End

The headlines have really got me wondering recently. What will it take for us to realized that we need to change our ways? Will it be $10 a gallon gas? Another Dust Bowl or similar agricultural disaster? Perhaps a nuclear meltdown to call our own? We see all of these things happening around us, but our actions only continue to hasten the endtimes. The American public is frozen in place, struck dumb by the fact that its luxuries cannot and will not endure. Meanwhile, civilizations are actively crumbling around us. We're still largely insulated from the chaos for the time being, but one day we must face the reality of what we helped create. None of us can have illusions of sainthood in this situation. It's time we acknowledge our wrongdoings and begin to construct a new life fitted to the decline of the industrial age. Permaculture, organic, public transportation, kale. All of these things need to be introduced or perhaps reintroduced into our vocabularies. We need to overcome the yuppie stigma that halts us before the threshold of our local Whole Foods. Sustainability is necessarily the trend of the future. While we are by no means going to instantly begin dying off in droves, we are facing tangible danger here. If we don't begin now and in earnest, then it may well be too late to resuscitate our crippled world. I'm just worried what sort of dramatic American disaster it will take for us to truly understand that. It's time for some realistic forethought. At the moment we're all flirting with the end.

And just for fun, here's some suitably apocalyptic music. Ragnarok and all that fun stuff:

The Speed of Sound

Lately I've been reading about the Slow Movement and its accompanying philosophies (Slow Food, Slow Sex, Slow Work, Slow Exercise and so on). Seeing as how my hometown was recently designated a Slow City, whether deservedly or not, I thought Carl Honore's In Praise of Slowness deserved at least casual investigation. Admittedly it has been a fairly easy and generic read thus far, employing all-too-convenient demonstrations of its principles in a thoroughly repetitious manner. I could see how some would object to its rather insubstantial evidence, but since I tend to agree with the entirety of the book's content, I'm fine to let it be. While the reading hasn't taught me too much that I didn't know or couldn't infer, there was one particular chapter that really got me thinking. It was the chapter on music.

Apparently modern classical musicians have a tendency to up the tempo on works of old. Many of the original scores of Mozart were intended to be played at as much as half the speed of its contemporary iterations. Some of the speculated reasons for this lie in the Industrial Revolution. With a newfound emphasis on speed and efficiency, the Western world came to agree that faster meant better. The advent of the virtuoso player only seemed to escalate the problem. As instruments become more advanced, and players more enthusiastic, tempos rose. Speed and skill began to replace evocative mood and feeling. Song-lengths began shedding minutes like pets shed winter coats. The modern standard sits at roughly 3-4 minutes for a commercially successful piece of work. Yet nothing illustrates the extreme of this trend quite like grindcore.

Three-second-long songs at a million miles an hour? No big deal. It's all part of the territory. But also as far away from classical composers as one can get. (Although I did recently hear an amazing orchestral rendition of Converge's song "Jane Doe"). What I'm curious about, however, is the potential fact that metal music, which I hold so dear, happens to be the culminating product of industrial society's sickening obsession with speed and efficiency.

Tech death anyone?

Thinking about metal in this way isn't so appealing for me. One could probably make the case that metal exists only to fuel our stimulant-addicted modern minds. Can we no longer deal with silence? I for one realized that I tend to fill quiet moments with music, just because I can. But by doing so, I'm hampering my mind's ability to create meaningful inner dialogue. The result is stunted mental communication and a general lack of self-reflection. Both things I deem essential to a satisfying human existence. Sure, I've written essays while cranking Gojira, but was I thereby compromising the quality of my work?

As much as I love metal and music as a whole, I'm find that it certainly has a time and a place, as well as a tempo. I don't need to fill every spare moment with rapid-fire notes. I fear losing touch with the interior parts of myself by doing so. I can appreciate the passion and intensity of metal, and will continue to do so, yet with a little more mindfulness. After all, I think it's only fair and necessary to occasionally question from whence things came.

In the end, you don't have to be an adherent to the Slow Movement to stop and take a moment for yourself every once in a while. Simply appreciate the silence. There's richness to be found in your own mind as well; outside of today's industrial-strength stimulants.


That means no music video today. Sorry.

Served on the Side

Tommy Rogers, of Between the Buried and Me fame, has solo record out now under his birth name Thomas Giles.

You have to listen to it.

It's titled Pulse and it's quite a piece of work. The songs span a healthy variety of (predominantly non-metal) genres, keeping each spin engaging. It would only be a disservice for me to enumerate their characteristics here, and it's best that you investigate the record in its entirety without any preconceptions. Rogers is a talented dude and your ears are in good hands with him. If it means anything, I would put Steven Wilson's Insurgentes on the same wavelength as Pulse. Both fabulous triumphs of musical beauty and eclecticism. Dig it.



This song can give you a momentary glimpse into the album, but it is truly meant to be experienced as a whole. A requirement you don't come across often anymore. After all, it seems as if the art of the cohesive album has similarly gone the way of grandma's cookbook. (and that's out the window in case you haven't read any past posts)

Let's see if we can change that. Remember that idea that every dollar is a vote?

And Here's Some Metal

Just because I've been slacking on the musical aspect lately. Here's some stuff to keep you entertained.



For those of you easily offended of with a weak stomach, you might want to skip this video by The Secret. Fair warning.

My Current Obsession #5

Everyone and their mother is going to love this.

I stumbled upon it a couple days ago. Don't ask me how. I can't even remember. But goodness gracious I'm glad I did. Cannelle et Vanille is the blog of a Basque expatriot now living and working in the US. It's full of beautiful, professional photographs of beautiful, professional-quality food. Makes my mouth water every time. But it offers much more than that as well. Through her posts I've gotten a glimpse into Basque culture and the ideals they embrace. And as I've come to find, I want nothing more than to be part of it.

There is a tremendous emphasis put on the family unit. There are routine gatherings and outings with all the different branches. Food is always an occasion, and the Basque know how to savor a meal. They eat seasonally and extremely local whenever possible. They even go mushroom hunting with grandparents. Basically, they enjoy amazing food, take care of themselves as well as one another, and simply know how to enjoy every day. You can just see the joy in the faces of the children. And can you imagine how well nourished they are in comparison to the average American child?

I'm probably idealizing the culture, but this is a lifestyle I hold in high regard. It is certainly different than what we find in the US. I'm rapt by its simplicity and attention to the small things in life. It's the kind of earthbound existence that I plan on pursuing. Food. Family. Friends. Fun.

I wish I could've grown up in a pastry shop as well.

A Different Kind of Endangered Species

I admit, I've really been harping on the theme of food with this blog. After all, our agricultural system accounts for an astounding portion of the environmental degradation we see around the world. It's a good place to start if we're at all going to change the status quo of "produce it cheap and pile it high." However, I recently realized that my generation simply does not cook. They feel like they don't need to when they still have their parents to do it for them. Not to mention the prodigious number of restaurants, grocery stores and microwavable options. Sure, they may bake some brownies occasionally with friends, but most of us young adults don't know our way around a wooden spoon. What I want to know is:

What ever happened to grandma's cookbook?

When did that go out the window? As I mentioned briefly in a previous post, there's something to be said about culinary tradition. It keeps us grounded in methods suited to more local resources and techniques, as well as keeps us actually involved in our food. Yet somewhere along the line, we stopped passing down dietary aptitude and let ourselves be swept away in a tide of processed fats and sugars. This is something that needs to change. Or else the family cookbook may as well be added to the endangered species list.

Upon having these sorts of revelations, I immediately contacted my grandmothers in New Zealand about the prospect of compiling a family cookbook. My mother has a personal cookbook created over the years, but it's in a sorry state, suffering for old age and a bit of flood damage to boot. And so I figured, what better way to preserve the ideals of cooking than by working with your own matriarchs to collect a unique history of family gastronomy? My idea is to separate it into generational chapters, keeping some sense of lineage intact. I'm hoping to add a section relating my own dietary sensibilities in attempts to continue the evolution.

Basically, not only does it sound like a fun project, but the product will be of immense social, cultural and personal worth. And if you use some sort of fancy online publishing service like Shutterfly, you could even make multiple copies to distribute at holidays. No more worrying about gifts for relatives you don't know terribly well. That's my dream at least.

So there you are. I would strongly encourage you to discover your culinary roots and pay homage to more traditional practices. I really don't think there's anything more rewarding than sitting down to a delicious meal that you prepared on your own or with the help of people you love. It's something worth preserving.

My Current Obsession #4

Right now, all I want to do is try some Smorrebrod. I've been hearing quite a bit about this traditional Danish open-faced sandwich lately, and it has simply captivated my attention in an odd way. I think it's the simplicity yet endless variety of its component parts. All it takes is a slice of bread, a bit of butter, and then whatever toppings you can manage to haphazardly stack on top. Usually smorrebrod is topped with cold meats or salmon, but its really at the mercy of the architect. My only problem, however, that pre-paid dining hall meal plans don't often lend themselves to bouts of culinary creativity. If I can get my hands on a slab of rye bread, some Danish cheese and a bit of salmon, I'll be able to rest easy. But for right now, my mind is whizzing with a million combinations that I'd like to taste.

As a note, the Danes are known for keeping their cuisine fresh and local; a practice we should all strive for. Our agricultural habits have a tremendous effect on environmental conditions after all. And as great as culinary diversity can be around the world, there's often much to be said about embracing well-worn traditions.

In the meantime, I'll sit here in Walla Walla, hankering for some authentic smorrebrod.

Linear Perspectives

A recurring theme in many of my classes so far this semester (which have been keeping me exceedingly busy) is a certain skepticism towards the perceived linearity of history. Of course, there's that old saying, "History is written by the victors," and to some extent it is very much true. Yet there's a certain level of subjectivity that generally goes into deciding which events are memorable, as well as how they ought to be connected to others. In this way, a great deal of isolated occurrences may be strung together on history's ramrod straight trajectory.

The simplest example here is that of art history: An arbitrary selection of impressive artists are placed chronologically and connected by some semblance of compulsory progression. It makes it seem that the development of Post-Impressionism was inevitable after the realistic perfection achieved the the great masters of the Renaissance. The problem is, a prodigious amount of valuable contextual information is omitted by such selective streamlining. All the fat is cut out. Juicy, juicy historical fat. Such we could use to feed and inform our emaciated present.

And this phenomena is clearly not limited to the realm of art history. It just happens to be the subject that my poor class registration time this semester forced me to undertake; though it has actually proven to be quite thought provoking thus far. It makes you wonder who decides what's historically relevant and who is simply forgotten, trampled under the hoofs of time. I think it's important to realize that we're getting all our fact secondhand, plucked by some invisible farmer of antiquity. And we're suppose to believe all these events are inextricably linked by some sort of fate or coincidence. This mode of conceptualizing the past forgoes much of life's randomness, or to use David Oates' favorite word, "wildness."

I for one think we ought to be skeptical of this linear viewpoint. In fact, its acceptance is a main cause of today's misguided environmental movement. The linear model imposes imperatives, as in, "If we cut down these trees, nature never be the same." The regenerative and cyclical properties of our world are ignored in such a case. There are ways establish working relationships between man and the organic resources he requires. Nature will survive us; its tenacity is beyond our comprehension. Things sure look bad when conceiving of history in terms of human life spans, but going above and beyond that perspective, our actions often will have very little effect on Earth. Yet it is certainly possible to cause irreversible damage, and the human race already has in many places. I cannot condone many current practices. What I'm trying to do is remove false imperatives so that we can begin to engage nature in an informed and cooperative manner. Environmentalists are too often afraid of potentially injuring what they love or tainting its perceived virginity. The best kind of environmentalists, however, are those who can effectively work with nature, and are not deceived by the typical short, linear perspective.

I guess that's the gist of it. Linear history is largely a construct of mankind, and it's often worth your while to question who exactly constructed it. Take a look outside, see the unadulterated randomness and uncertainty in life, operating in incomprehensible cycles. Think a million years in the future. Earth will most likely be empty of humans and will have reclaimed what was once ours.

So there's my attempt at connecting art history to environmentalism. Hopefully it all came out coherently enough.

My Current Obsession #3

This:

http://gluttonyisabliss.tumblr.com/

Nature's Ugly Ducklings

I would to say a few words here on the subject of beauty. Though not the superficial human kind.Rather, I think it prudent to reconsider our standards on what we consider beautiful in the natural world.

This subject holds particular relevance for me not only because I recently read Plato's Symposium and dealt with the concept of Platonic forms, but because this year I've encountered a tremendous variety of new ecosystems. From the oak woodlands of northern California through to the state's agricultural heart. Then to high deserts of Arizona and finally back up to the Blue Mountains of Walla Walla County. My travels have taken me all the way up and down the west coast; each location carrying its own personality and characteristics. My issue, simply put, is how are we to value them? Our answers, even casually considered, can have immense ecological implications.

The fact of the matter is that forests are the poster boys of the natural realm. They get the most love, protection and consideration. It is generally agreed upon that the destruction of woodlands, except out of necessity for timber, is a deplorable act. And while the timber industry certainly has its issues, I'm not so concerned with them here. Trees have status. What I'm more concerned with currently are ecosystems like prairies, deserts and tundras. Places that don't garner much fanfare. They are often seen as barren and unattractive, devoid of any real worth. While these are blatant misconceptions, they leave our less aesthetically pleasing locales open to exploitation. The public isn't moved to preserve a plot of what they see as dead grass. Yet these attitudes are a result of poor ecological education. And they were the bane of Aldo Leopold's existence.

Simply because the complexities of these systems are hidden, doesn't preclude their existence. When I first came to Walla Walla, I thought the area outside of the Whitman campus to be one of the most unattractive places I had ever been. Besides Bakersville, CA of course. But now that I'm settled in here, and enrolled in a natural history course, I'm beginning to perceive the fine balance that exists in this valley. It's beautiful in its own right and certainly worth preserving. Its this diversity of life that keeps our world healthy. Even those unsightly weeds have a place in evolution. As insignificant as they seem, displaced native grasses and weeds can have extremely adverse effects. Their absence invites in non-native species which can disrupt well-established ecological cycles.

I could go on like this for quite some time, but the moral I wish to convey is simple enough and need not be lost in specifics. Essentially, evolution has established delicate ecological relationships within each of these environments. Some are less aesthetically pleasing to human beings, and thus suffer our erroneous wrath. Mankind needs to take greater care to recognize the true value of generally unremarkable things like prairie grasses or ocean bottomfeeders. Seen through an ecological lens, each of these places are equally beautiful. So don't simply dismiss a place for its lack of greenery. This diversity is essential after all. Nature has its ugly ducklings, so to speak, but we should learn to see through our aesthetic judgments.

And I'm not advocating we leave every track of land untouched, but rather that we engage it with knowledge of the aforementioned cycles. We human beings are a part of nature after all, and we need to better execute our role as participants in the natural world.

My Current Obsession #2

Today was a beautiful, sun-drenched day in Walla Walla. A very unusual occurrence in late January. Temperatures graciously rose into the low 50's for our enjoyment. And let me tell you, I got as much enjoyment out of those rays as I possibly could. Because the immediate forecast ain't looking so lovely.

The reason I tell you this, however, is because my current obsession is a band relevantly named Dragged Into Sunlight. And that's just how I felt today. Finally escaping my residence hall for a run, some soccer, frisbee and even a litte tree-climbing session. With today's events, I'm actually a little sorry to be back behind this computer screen.

But alas, I hope you appreciate being dragged into the sunlight as well. Literally and metaphorically speaking.



Nothing quite like some blackened death/grind to brighten your day.

A Lesson in Genetics/Geography

Check this shit out: Map of Metal

Coolest. Thing. Ever.

Home on the Range

I want to talk a little bit about a new trend that's gaining momentum in today's world. Despite the fact that it's not really a trend at all: Modern Homesteading.

Once upon a time this was simply a way of life and required no title. People knew how to live off the land; how to raise their own food and protect themselves from the elements. Unfortunately, we are so out of touch with our basic skills that the prospect of churning your own butter almost constitutes an act of rebellion. Not to mention as primitive and peasant-like. Humans today feel as though they automatically inherit the right to pre-packaged dairy goods simply by virtue of their anatomy. People aren't willing to earn it anymore. Except those riding the wave of modern homesteading. But let's clarify momentarily: I am in full support of this movement. My only qualm is that ideally it need not even exist. I suppose it merely speaks to the immense alienation of man from his original environment and mode of existence.

I'm certainly no one to point fingers, being a complete product of technology and expedience; a concession must make time and again. But all the same, it pains me to see mankind reduced to a collectively of nearly helpless individuals. Please don't take it personally. I'm sure you're all terrifically multifaceted individuals, but as a whole our race is reliant upon the proliferation of industry and specialization.

As such, it has become necessary to create a support network for like-minded homesteaders to share and pass along knowledge. Websites like Motherearthnews.com have stepped in to occupy the now vacant role of informative elders. The skills to live independently are no longer passed down through generations. The advent of the white picket fence has effectively kept them at bay. Nonetheless, a reclamation is being mounted. Individuals are awakening to the realization that things are not right in the world, and by no means sustainable. They are taking back self-sufficiency one step at a time.

And I want to be right there with them. Let's make honest labor sexy again.

My Current Obsession

So I've been lax as of late. But that's because I've been making the most of California's moderate climes before I must return to the frostbitten wastelands of Washington. More on some of those experiences later. Currently, however, I'm going to institute a new periodic column. As the title indicates, it will be composed of whatever I am currently obsessed with; be it an idea, a website, or just mushrooms.

This week's obsession happens to be an album. Ghost's Opus Eponymous. Who ever said that lyrics about Satan and human sacrifice couldn't have a sexy hard rock swag to them?



While Ghost has nothing to do with the environment, I couldn't help but share their infectious Satanic grooves with my very small constituency. This is one of the most addicting albums I've listened to in recent times. The tremendous juxtaposition of the lyrics against its actual delivery is simply something you don't come across in today's world of strictly drawn genre lines. Maybe its charm will wear off soon, but for now I'm content to spin Opus Eponymous on repeat. These Swedes have me hooked.



And look, Ghost doesn't even need lyrics to write fucking awesome songs:

Speaking of Slow...

Now that winter is upon us, it's the perfect time to curl up and listen to some glacially-paced, crushing doom/sludge metal. Or basically anything heavy and slow. Here are just a few fine selections that will deepen your wintry despair:

Thou- Summit
Grief- Come to Grief
Harvey Milk- A Small Turn of Human Kindness
Isis- Wavering Radiant
Gojira- From Mars to Sirius
Buried Inside- Spoils of Failure
Ahab- The Divinity of Oceans
Lesbian- Stratospheria Cubensis
Opeth- Still Life
Triptykon- Eparistera Daimones
Insomnium- Across the Dark
Swallow the Sun- New Moon
Mar de Grises- Stream Inwards
Sleep- Sleep's Holy Mountain

This Year's Goal: To Slow Down

Some of you may have already heard about the whole Slow Food or Slow City movement, but I think it's necessary that we extend those ideals into a Slow Economy. An economy in which money is kept circulating locally, supporting local entrepreneurs, struggling artisans and honest laborers. I'm sure I've extolled these virtues somewhere along the line in this blog, but I feel it's worth reiterating for the new year. It's time to permanently alter our perspectives.
Things don't have to happen so quickly after all, it tends to suck the life out of the simple pleasures. Compare our existences with that of our great-grandparents. The differences are striking. They were much happier with much less. I don't think the perceived progress of today's society is necessarily a good thing. There's less self-reliance and a whole lot more useless specialization. Hardly any of our youth have the practical skills to keep themselves alive outside of our cheap, plastic paradises. Recapturing slow lives doesn't necessarily entail old-time frontier living. Though I don't think that's such a bad thing.
Basically there is a need for so-called 'conscientious capitalism' in today's day and age. These practices favor more benevolent business practices and harness the productive capacity of creative individuals. When people are more emotionally invested in their products of labor and consumption, there's less call for faceless corporations that harbor impenetrable legal protections and trample public health for the sake of the dollar. How we came to rely on them in the first place is still a mystery to me. If we can escape the need for their services, I think we will all be much far more contented.
In order to bring these changes about, the most practical solution is to think of each dollar spent as a political act. One dollar = one vote. We consumers hold much more power than we tend to realize. This influence remains largely untapped. By concentrating our money in slow practices, there is no end to the benefits.
Producers will respond to our investments and preferences. How else did a company like Walmart become one of the largest distributors of organic milk? They strive to appease us. If we're content consuming cheap, unhealthy products, then they're fine producing them. So the next time you're in the grocery store, or any store really, think about who and what you're supporting. Is it a local farm, or an Iowan monocrop? A Chinese import or a handcrafted piece of art? It's high time we started considering these factors in our economic decisions. Our health and the health of the environment is often neglected because they don't carry strict monetary values. By changing the speed at which we operate and expect things, we can rectify the problems, freeing ourselves from reliance on greedy corporations and the like.
Just bear some of this in mind for the new year.