Eat for Sustainability

This is just a reminder that the world's ocean environments are in perhaps even greater peril than our terrestrial ones. Bottom trawling, overharvesting, imbalanced foodwebs, acidification, etc. are all driving widespread ecosystem collapses. Simply because they're less visible to us land-lubbers and we can't immediately see the effects, it doesn't mean that things are alright. Play your part by making sustainable seafood choices and demand change from an egregiously exploitative industry.

I Just Want to be Robinson Jeffers

These stone-heavy limbs weigh me down;
Keep me tied to the earth
If only I could shed their mineral casings
Sheet by sheet unloading
Until my crystalline innards stand exposed
To the circling condors above
In the deep sapphire California sky
Come dine on the rubies and garnets
Of my opened chest
Spread my jewelled offering aloft
Drifting across dry western winds

I could rest easy then, knowing myself
Freed from brittle form
Safe inside those Great Decomposers
Agents of Shiva
Closing the perpetual circle
To be cast again into form.

Ruahine

Gravel roads and rattled bones
Fish-tail turns round blind corners
Arriving at the Beginning
Parked; dogs barking
Geared-up for farmland slogging
Opening gates: one, two three
Up the fenceline pointed skywards
500 metres gained through Achilles strain
To where forest girds property
Ceding ownership to the old Gods
Tane-mahuta, Tawhirimatea, Hine-nui-te-po
Entering a palace of beech, trimmed with moss
And studded with fern, horopito
A verdant hall within the clouds
Shrouding all connection with humanity below
As we continue to rise

Two pilgrims following hallowed steps
Towards a wild, ancient shrine
Penance upon ridgelines
Rain soaking, chilling skin; wind shattering thoughts
Sacrificing and surrendering
But still onwards, one foot and the next
Communing with those nameless, formless ones
Those that be
Without passion or anger
From these unchanging entities
We achieve renewal, rebirth
Naked of discriminating mind

Cleansed
The blessing of the mountain
Follow us downwards
Descending back to the common realm
After one solitary night
Where the fires of Purity burned hot
In the chambers of the sky
Destroying to restore
Bearing with us the good news
To all who will listen
And heed Ruahine's call.

A Few Glimmers of Hope

Here are a few inspiring examples of the transformative powers of nature. Long clips I know, but well worth a watch. Have you ever seen such complete restoration of ecological activity from marginal or degraded scraps of land? Because I haven't.
 

Truly Holistic Agriculture

   This blog is no doubt full of young idealism and proselytizing with regards to organic agriculture. I started writing at 17 with these outraged notions of big agribusiness with its chemical bastardization of plants/soils and its animal abuses; all largely informed by the usual suspects of Michael Pollan, Wendell Berry, Food, Inc. and so on. I'm sure plenty of young college students would have shared in my experience. Sustainable food is most definitely the rage these days. Yet our 'holistic' critiques of the modern food system are still incomplete: discussion remains curiously subdued on the subject of the actual farm laborer. And it's something that should genuinely concern of all of us who profess an interest in sustainable agriculture. Inquiry into the topic betrays an awkward tension between organics as a movement and organics as an industry. When pursued as a movement, operations tend to be on a smaller scale with more equitable and steady employment. But when organics grows into the size and practice of industry, workers find themselves as marginalized and disposable as before, if not moreso. Organic husbandry is acknowledged as more labor-intensive because of its rejection of synthetic pesticides, but no consideration has been extended to the wellbeing of the often faceless laborers who bear this burden. On a commercial scale, the work is not quite so idyllic as weeding your backyard garden. This is the type of repetitious work that can break bodies.

   California's agricultural labor force is overwhelmingly foreign-born and even illegal, and so they receive very little in the way of representation. Their bodies are classified as 'the other' and therefore not protected with the same venom as most red-blooded American workers. The problem is that an effort to improve labor conditions for these employees is often politicized into an attack on the merits of organic production. Yes we believe organics is good and noble, but some of us want to minimize the effects it has on fieldhands where possible. Democrats just don't know what to do with themselves in this instance, because they're not meant to oppose organics, but nor do they want to be seen opposing equitable labor laws. So they abstain. Is this how we reward the people who put their health on the line so that we can eat fresh produce? By ignoring them. All the while bragging how we know what local farm it came from; when really we don't know the half of it. The demographic divide from farm to plate remains enormous. The fashion of the organics trend is built upon the stooped backs of Mexican immigrants.

   All of this leads me to wonder when agriculture will be raised to the level of a respected livelihood again. I believe the people who feed us through all seasons and conditions deserve at least some monetary stability and not the transient, impoverish existence they lead today. Rectifying this will involve paying authentic prices: a concept which scares the Pakistan-made pants off any consumer. Organics already cost more because of the field practices they employ, but this doesn't necessarily see any more money going to the workers. The reality is that food is expensive produce. For some reason though, we've come under the assumption that it's almost a given. This lets us spend the rest of our disposable income on non-essentials and frivolities that effectively drive the degradation of our planet and other social justice crises. What we need is a rearrangement of economic priorities. We can afford to give agricultural workers the wages they deserve, but this requires trade-offs in other segments of our budgets. Paying more for food could really be one of the best ways to decrease anthropogenic environmental impacts.

   But really, this whole labor issue needs to be brought up for broader public discussion. For now it only exists in the shadows of our white Anglo-Saxon minds. Today's budding foodies need to expand their understanding of the American agriculture system if it is going to be both ecologically and socially sustainable. With more middle class, college-educated folks showing interest in farming and the 'simple life' away from the city, maybe debate can begin when they realize you can't always make a living at it and that not everyone enjoys their privilege. That's sort of how it happened for me.

Family ties

A few weeks ago now I received a first-class lesson in self-sufficiency from an unexpected source: my estranged uncle. I hadn't seen the guy since I was maybe a toddler, and hence had no real memory of him. Everything I knew came from a few sparse photographs or some terse offhand comments about Hugh and his backwoods trailer. But as it turns out, mum's little brother was exactly the kind of person I needed to meet.

 He's been squatting on a marginal scrap of for longer than I've been alive. For 23 years he's worked to carve out his own quiet life in a picturesque valley outside of Motueka. When he first arrived at the place he now calls home, it was nothing more than a patch of scrub, weeds and gorse bordering a mountain stream that feeds out from Kahurangi National Park. Since then he has laboured to clear the whole area, built a beautiful crescent-shaped driveway, set up some pastures for his stock, and even started a small native plant garden and barbeque area, complete with picnic table and sun umbrella. His pride and joy, however, is his trailer. And what a trailer it is. From the outside, with its wooden shingling and ornate green trim, it looks as if it should be attached to some flamboyant train, perhaps with a travelling circus. But once inside, his mobile abode is replete with stunning original woodwork, all done up in a rainbow of native New Zealand timber. The space is small of course, but the attention to detail is astonishing. It is a visual delight, with angular diamond patterns set into walls and doors, while the shelves are thoughtfully decorated with bronzed knick-knacks, tiny ancient bottles of liquor and other curiosities. Some of which belonged to my grandfather apparently.

 Inconspicuous 12 volt lights line the roof at key locations, ensuring efficient use of power. His whole system runs almost entirely on solar year-round, though there is a generator to pick up the slack if need be. Even the electric cattle fences are solar-powered. You would think that hydro would be an obvious choice too considering his streamside location, but it turns out that the flow is simply too strong for domestic use. The turbines would just be washed away during a big rain event. Trust me, he's looked into it. The piece de resistance of his energy scheme, however, is the simple coal range stove that does triple duty in the trailer. Not only does it cook up a mean mutton roast, it more than adequately heats his tubular home, and it even heats the water so efficiently that you can have a sauna in the dead of winter. Then there are additions like the outhouse longdrop, done up with a carved wooden seat, scenic posters of New Zealand, and a sheepskin floormat to keep your toes cozy. Next to that appears to be a simple metal toolshed, but in fact this houses the generator as well as a cleverly designed shower, drawing water from the stream just behind. An actual toolshead, and a spare campervan with auxiliary shade tent attachment round out the property's features.

 In terms of food, my uncle has his own cattle to bop on the head every six months for meat. One of his best mates is the local butcher, and they keep a shared walk-in freezer between several of the neighbours (although neighbours in this case can mean several kilometers in any direction). This freezer is supplemented with an assortment of wild meats such as venison, boar, or whatever else can be bartered for between one another. There certainly is no shortage or protein. These are people whose primary concern is providing for themselves. A few colonies of hobby beehives also offer more honey than my uncle can rid himself of; about 90kg still to be spun out at present. Consequently I came away with a big jar for my own consumption.

 There's heaps of space for a veggie patch, but unfortunately my uncle isn't too keen on most things green and leafy. Besides, the cows would probably get out and destroy the whole thing anyways he said. But he really has everything he needs otherwise. He is king of his land and I was lucky enough to witness his set up firsthand, if only for a meager 24 hours. You wouldn't expect it but this big, burly, tattooed meat-eater is almost certainly a more authentic environmentalist than I can claim to be; or most people with a degree in the environmental field. He just lives it. He knows the habits of the local hawks and other animals because he spends the time to be quiet and watch throughout the course of the year. There is no dichotomy between man and nature there; he truly inhabits his land. That's what it's all about. He's not likely to leave anytime soon either, and so I'm honestly quite tempted to join him for an extended period of time. I've got an invitation to come back and work over the summer, so I may have to take up the opportunity.

 Who knew that I would find inspiration like that within my own family? Certainly not me. But what a pleasant revelation it was.

The Adaptive Radiation of Metal

As it turns out, extreme metal fits quite well into the ecological model of adaptive radiation; at least in a general way. First of all, think of a remote island. An island where no blast beats, distortion or tremolo picking has been before. Then imagine the introduction of one original colonists (for argument's sake we'll just use the band Death). No other immigrants make it to this island. The pioneer species, Death, has the entire resource base of the island to fill with its progeny.

 What follows is a rapid sequence of speciation and diversification, ultimately filling all the viable niches within the bounds of extreme metal. For example, some members of the population begin to focus their diet on slamming grooves and guttural vocals, eventually distancing themselves to where they no longer interbreed with their source population and become a new species. Others thrive on a diet of speed and relentless blast beats, shrieking their heads off in the forests of the island to become grindcore. And still others might embrace the progressive, noodling aspects of later-era Death and shoot off into the wilds of extreme experimentation. Any number of combinations might be tried, with varying levels of success depending on inter- and intra-specific competition.

Of course, this intense specialization leaves the myriad subgenres vulnerable to extinction because their numbers are low, and the people interested in their music are few as well. While closely allied to other species, they cannot always interbreed to secure new audiences and thus their continuity. The result is a kaleidoscopic array of metal music, some of which may blink out in an evolutionary second, never to be heard from again (Eighteen Visions anyone?). Over a thirty year span we've encountered thrash metal, grindcore, blackened death, melodic death, groove metal, tech death, jazz-fusion, folk metal, djent and on and on.

While you can argue whether Death actually had anything to do with the genesis of Anaal Nathrakh or Russian Circles, etc., I think there is a distinct enough sonic pedigree that has been passed down through the generations, if twisted and morphed and alloyed with other influences, that can be credited to a few pioneer bands. Metal is a very insular genre; it is very much on its own island in terms of popular appeal. The metaphor isn't perfect I know, but at the very least it provides and interesting thought experiment on the evolution of music. A single style exposed to an empty new environment can diffuse across the auditory spectrum until all the possibilities have been exhausted. Ecology is everywhere man.
 
 Speciation breeds some wild things, no?

Ode to the Olive

The common olive:
Olea europaea

Branch of Champions
Flag of Conquerors
Symbol of Peace
Hero of the Mediterranean

So diminutive and yet so noble
Arrayed in greens and purple blacks
Hard stone anchoring its core
Dripping from gnarled trees
As jewels of dew at first light
Entwined by leaves of burnished silver

Plucked laboriously, lovingly by
Thick tanned leather hands
To be pressed, rock upon rock
Until they shed their golden tears
Whereupon it is bottled greedily
And yet with gratitude
To fuel the society of Men

Lubricating the gears of ancient war
Fortifying the hearts of the People
Kissing their daily bread
The fruit of their lands
Embodying a living tradition

Wrestlers slathered in oil
Undertake slippery combat
Mortal against Mortal
Paying their tribute to Athena
And Aristaeus both

This ovoid wonder
Crucible of civilization
Balm of Philosophers
Honored down through the ages

Grows quietly in my Californian backyard

Perhaps aware of its history and Virtue,
Or perhaps not.

The Political Geography of Environmentalism

Oftentimes I think the lens through which we consider the environmental movement is far too narrow. In this post I would like to situate it on the global stage. To truly address our growing ecological crises, we need to consider our international relationships and the structure of our economic activities. Perhaps the most significant detail here is the division of the Developed North from the poverty-stricken Global South: the disparity between the Haves and the Have-nots. The industrialized nations require the raw materials and resources that the less-developed countries contain. And because the infection of capitalism has spread throughout the world, these peoples are willing to sacrifice the integrity of their precious ecosystems to make the money they need survive. Their continuity depends on these extractive industries. Subsistence living has nearly become a relic of our species' past. When it comes to contemporary individual economics, the value of biodiversity means nothing in the face of hunger. As such, great ecological atrocities are committed for the sake of survival and for the benefit of faceless multinational corporations. A wretched job is still a job for those with no other employment opportunities.

The result of this exploitative system is that the Global South stays poor while its resources are wiped and land ravaged. The North is allowed to externalize its costs, both monetary and environmental, to those without any political representation or power. In turn, formerly industrialized nations such as the US and Britain can shift their focus from the dirty productive sector to cleaner industries such as service and technology while bringing in all of its material necessities from India, China, Malaysia, Indonesia, Pakistan, Mexico, Guatemala, and on and on... Our modern lifestyles draw from all corners of the globe these days. I spent a week cataloguing all of the resources I consumed in one week, only to be blown away by the diversity of their origins. Hardly anything was produced in New Zealand itself. There are people abusing the land and themselves in order to satiate my material desires. This I think is the greatest threat to environmental health: the lifestyle of the Global North. The story would be very different if each country were satisfied to cultivate their own resources locally, tailoring their lifestyles to the prevailing conditions. Instead we're faced with a monoculture of consumerism that proliferates in all sorts of places that it doesn't belong. Everywhere people expect the same type of material comfort and convenient existence.  Of course, this brings with it the usual litany of waste byproducts: overflowing landfills, marine dead zones and trash islands, excess levels of CO2, hazardous chemicals, etc. This really doesn't have to be the case. It's merely a symptom of our fast-paced, high-capacity international supply chain.

There's really no need for me to delve further into the details of why capitalism is bad or the technicalities of our worsening environmental conditions. Really I just want you all to understand that environmentalism is not a form of class warfare between the crunchy granola-types and the suit & tie industry monkeys. It is in fact a global phenomenon concerning the distribution of raw materials and wealth. Each of us has what the other wants. The Brazilian fieldhand will happily burn some fringe of the Amazon for sugarcane if it means he can feed his children for another week on wages from his international employers. This is the reality of the system we have wrought. And it is extremely dangerous.