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I was just sexually rejected in favor of election coverage.
“But it only happens once a year!”
Which is not what he meant to say. And I wanted to correct him SO BAD, but it only weakened my case. 6 months ago
Some writing by Derrick Jensen:
The fact that the question - can we promote ecological sustainability through buying better things? - is taken seriously points to the absurdity of so much environmental discourse. We need to be clear: An industrial economy, no matter how green it declares itself, is inherently unsustainable. It is based on the use of nonrenewable resources and the hyperexploitation of renewable resources. In short, it’s based on drawdown. It’s a bit late in the murder of the planet to have to be saying this to environmentalists.
There has never been a sustainable civilization, and industrial civilization has been especially disastrous. Industrial civilization is also inherently unjust, as it is based on the importation of resources - a less kind word is theft - from colonies to the center of empire. In order for these resources to be stolen, Indigenous People must be driven from the land and forced into the global cash economy. The fact that people of good heart can ignore this reveals the degree to which they have internalized the logic of capitalism.
Let me put this another way. Would “buying better things” have stopped the Nazis? Would it have stopped apartheid? Would it have stopped slavery in the US? Of course not. In the latter two cases it was tried and it failed. Why? Because it completely ignored the role of power in causing injustice.
Before you blanch at my comparison of capitalism to the Nazis, look at this from the perspective of the 200 species driven extinct today, the 200 species driven extinct tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, in a holocaust of unimaginable proportions. Look at this from the perspective of the millions of children killed each year as a result of so-called debt repayment from the colonies to the center of empire. Look at this from the perspective of Indigenous humans forced off their lands. “Buying good stuff” does absolutely nothing to address these problems.
The concept of “buying good things” is a false story that personal choices can lead to social change. That isn’t how social change works. I keep thinking of the line by Dom Helder Camara: “When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why are they poor, they call me a Communist.” Buying from the poor is nice, but it does nothing to address their impoverishment.
The fundamental precept of markets is that sellers try to maximize and buyers try to minimize prices. It’s all well and good to talk about Green EcoMarts for fair trade, recycled, and salvaged goods. But there are reasons Walmart and Home Depot are able to drive local stores out of business. Economies of scale guarantee that Walmart will be able to undercut small businesses. The local computer store owner in my town had to find work as a prison guard because Walmart can sell computers cheaper than he can buy them wholesale. The only way I can support the local store is if I have the extra money to burn. The same is true for fair trade tea, coffee, t-shirts, what have you. Capitalism guarantees that fair trade will remain a luxury niche that can never affect large-scale social change.
The global economy is essentially a command economy, one based on force. Let’s pretend that some community is able to establish a green economy that is 100 percent sustainable. Let’s presume further that the people in this community are content with their lifestyle, and don’t want it to change. Let’s give them a name. Let’s call them “Tolowa” or “Yurok” or “Dakota.” Or let’s say they are the Kayopo,living on the Xingu River. And now let’s say that those in power decide they want the land-base on which (or rather with whom) this community lives. What happens next? Does anyone really believe that those in power won’t destroy the community and steal the resources? This genocide isn’t a thing of the past: The Kayopo are being driven from their land right now, to make way for the Belo Monte dam.
Kevin Danaher asks, “If two of us go into a low-income part of the world, and you have the best critique of capitalism ever uttered, and I am offering green jobs at decent pay, who will get more allies?” This question is problematic for a number of reasons. First, it accepts industrial global capitalism and the wage economy as givens. Second, and more disturbing, it ignores the fact that sustainability is not determined by who has the most friends. Sustainability is determined by what is physically possible. Something is sustainable if it helps the planet become more viable. Whether someone is your friend is irrelevant.
Why don’t we ask instead: “If we go into a low-income part of the world, and I have the best critique of capitalism ever uttered, and I provide tangible solidarity with people’s organized efforts to take back their land, and you are offering green jobs at decent pay, who will get more friends?” The answer will be: Those who are providing tangible solidarity. This is not theoretical. Adivasis - Indigenous Peoples in India - are joining the Maoist Naxalite insurgency in droves, not because the Adivasis are Maoist, but because the Maoists are resisting.
Danaher also states, “People need jobs and income, not radical rhetoric from us privileged intellectuals.” Well, actually, no—they don’t need jobs and income. What they need is food, clothing, and shelter. What they need is access to land. With access to land, they need neither jobs nor income. This is not radical rhetoric from privileged intellectuals. This is what Indigenous Peoples have been saying ever since the dominant culture began dispossessing them.
Years ago I asked a member of the Tupaca-maristas what they wanted for the people of Peru. I was told: “We want to be able to grow and distribute our own food. We already know how to do that. We merely need to be allowed to do so.” There was no mention of green jobs.
What people in the colonies want is not to get jobs servicing the global elite. What they want is to be left alone, and what they want from those of us who profess to be revolutionaries is for us to force the empires to withdraw from their territory. We need not perpetuate the old White Man’s Burden of using our privilege to lift up our less fortunate brothers and sisters into something approximating our own lives. Here is the new morally and ecologically responsible and real burden of being a white man: to undo the damage done by the dominant culture and to destroy the ability of the rich to steal from the poor in the first place.
That undoing can never be accomplished by the exchanges that take place at a cash register. 12 months ago
Answering the body is a big part of how I envision this goal.
If this was on an episode of Jeopardy, my body buzzed in and said, “What is Greek yogurt (the good stuff) with blueberries, raw cocoa, and honey, Alex?” (The answer was “All of it.”) 13 months ago
Spring is the season of mud. Everything is in bloom two months early, and I don’t think anyone will complain until there’s a late frost. The chickens are thrilled about the bugs crawling in the grass. The birds make joyful racket at twilight. For the last couple of weeks, everytime someone wants to hang out I invite them to the park—if it’s wet, it’s all the better for hearing frogs.
The vernal pool monitoring is in season again, and I volunteered to get the water-depth measurement. This meant pulling on arm-pit high waders, trekking into the middle of the pool, and trying to hammer in the measuring stake without letting the water spill over the waders. There was a belt to keep the suit from filling entirely full of water if I slipped or went too deep, but instead of being my saving grace it trapped air in the suit from the legs through to my waist. So, with an amused audience, I was standing in arm-pit deep water, reaching as far as I could toward the center of the pool to get an accurate depth measurement, hammering and bobbing up everytime I tried to use my weight to push the stake further down. Not to mention the effort to keep my legs from floating to the surface when I tried to walk back to shore… 14 months ago
I skipped my 6-9PM class on Thursday so that I could do at least SOMETHING enjoyable for my birthday. Steve and I loaded up on delectables from Deepam’s deli case, and blasted out through country roads to the oak barrens. The radio was broadcasting a steady stream of weather reports—tornadoes were striking in the northern part of the “listening area”, and the sky over the wide, open fields was dramatically vacillating between ecstatic sunshine and fat, dark clouds—rain would smack against the windshield for a few seconds, then evaporate. The sky would light up, the car would get hot, and the windows would go back down. Wind and sun would fill the car, the radio announcers would rattle off counties—still far enough north to keep driving, but not far enough north to trim off the edge of danger.
We parked by the sand dunes and trekked out along deer paths to my favorite spot—along a corner of pines planted as a Depression era public works project, on the edge of a tall grass prairie. White tail deer bed down in the soft needles that line the ground under the pines, and it’s no wonder why: it is beautiful and safe in this place, the air is calm, the ground is dry; it is private and sun-warmed.
This is where we feasted on our North Indian deli picnic, where we both laid down to listen to the birds and amorous frogs until the sunlight began to fade and the air chilled.
Home again, home again. The storms had been forgotten, but we had our reminder driving north toward a sooty sky. They were heading west, though, not toward us; at home, the animals were still ranging about, dogs loping through the yard, cats guarding the chickens. I stood on the dock watching the shadows of catfish moving just below the surface in the murky water, and something seemed important about both the divide between our two worlds and the illusory contact.
The barn cat came out and watched them with me. 14 months ago
