They just are there–in the five pound bag of flour you just brought home yesterday. There, in the mixing bowl that was going to hold the biscuits for dinner, but now, in a puff of white smoke, ground grains with tiny hard beetles go into the burn pit out back.
But don’t blame the insects. They are just doing what they do to make a living, wingless though they are. They have learned to hitch-hike around the world over the past few thousand years as post-glacial humankind cultivated the land, then stored, then globally-shipped wheat products everywhere.
We are lurching forward into an unknown and unchartable future where there are no rules or precedents in the halls of government. Where might we end up when uninformed democracy breaks down and unconstrained capitalism drives us to the brink?
“Willful ignorance plays a role in these looming disasters. If your ambition is to maximize short-term gains without regard to the long-term cost, you are better off not knowing those costs. If you want to preserve your personal immunity to the hard problems, it’s better never to really understand those problems. There is upside to ignorance, and downside to knowledge.
Knowledge makes life messier. It makes it a bit more difficult for a person who wishes to shrink the world to a worldview. If there are dangerous fools in this book, there are also heroes, unsung, of course. They are the linchpins of the system—those public servants whose knowledge, dedication, and proactivity keep the machinery running. Michael Lewis finds them, and he asks them what keeps them up at night.”
Just when a geezer gets comfortable with “the way things were” they morph out from under him.
And that isn’t all bad. Nothing like a rocking boat to test your equilibrium. So now that I’m paid up for another year of life on Fragments without any great notion of the so-what of such a choice, WordPress mixes it up and changes their editing platform.
And so I decided to change up my Style plugin for a while and see what a visual change might bring about.
I actually have a long list of potential blog posts, but am yet to be convinced that this tree falling in the forest will make any sound. Things have been this way for years now, and the old blogging hay days are long past. And yet I can’t quite say I’m done.
I will give this “blocks” approach to editing some weeks of use and see if I get inspired–as in come to sense I am not bowling alone.
Let’s just toss in an image here and see how that works.
Okay, this one of tree silhouettes from Rocky Knob–already in the media gallery from long ago–prompts the possibility of a future post on trees–when the piece is cleared for public release. This work has been invisible to Facebook and the blog, but which kept me pleasantly busy for a couple of weeks in December. More, perhaps, soon-ish.
Let me know of any viewing issues with the new template.
The future we want begins when we find and pursue the greater good for each other, other living things, and future generations in place, in the small pockets of belonging, in the rural and urban places of America. My place is Floyd County, in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. This essay was part of SustainFloyd’s annual report for 2017, and it seems fitting to offer it more widely at a time when we need hope and vision.
Last night at the Floyd Country Store (and more at a new venue perhaps next year) we viewed the 38th movie in six and a half years of this SustainFloyd program of information-sharing (not to mention Pot Luck Suppers).
Some of these movies have lead to direct action within the community, others to targeted discussions in other organizations about environmental or community well-being issues; and most movies have shed a different light on some aspect of life on Earth that makes the viewer see the ordinary understandings–of things like cargo shipping, gas fracking, food waste–through a different lens.
The movie last evening was released in 2009. It paints a bleak picture and sounds a warning–and things have gotten worse since a decade ago. The threat to person and planet is water. Specifically, water taken from municipal sources or stolen from community commons and put in plastic, then made sexy by the same marketing psychology and massive money resources that promoted cigarettes.
This has to stop. And it will. Nature bats last. We are going into a late inning and are at bat. What will we do–in Floyd County, in our own neighborhoods, our own homes–to become part of the solution?
The discussion following the film heard more than one person saying “we should see to it that more people, and especially school-age kids, see this, know this, and act on this information.” Lives literally could depend on it, as more plastic microbits end up in sea creatures and our diet, not to even consider the toxins leaching from the plastic and commonly contained in the unregulated water inside the “spring water” from municipal big-city sources.
Links below let you view it on Amazon Prime; watch it free (in low quality with Spanish subtitles) on YouTube; and read a review of the health issues raised in the movie.