Precious Commodity Fluids

Last night I switched to a Japanese TV station since it was in the clear. They charge for the station as a rule, but they also open it up for anyone to see when the news is on. I have no idea why I enjoy watching it since I don't speak Japanese, but I guess I sometimes hope to see footage of Godzilla (or, more properly, Gojira) rampaging through Tokyo or something. Anyway, as I watched an avuncular man use an old-fashioned wooden pointer to note special sections of Japan and their upcoming weather while an obedient young woman stood by and semi-bowed on occasion during his presentation, I distracted myself by reading the "crawl" on the bottom of the screen which was, strangely, in English. A story that caught my eye stated that Russia was determined to increase its oil production and become the world's largest petroleum exporter, passing even the mighty Saudi Arabia. I remembered from my youth how the United States and Russia were the two largest oil producers in the world, but with all the issues facing the former Soviet Union, I had long since lost interest in them as an oil producing nation. I was more intrigued by their infamous mafia and the infighting between the now-free republics. But after reading this I tried a bit of Googling here and there and now find myself more confused than ever. Some stories say that Russia is already the largest oil producer in the world. Some make the distinction that they produce more but do not export the same amount as Saudi Arabia. Some talk about refined oil vs. crude. Some talk about all energy products (which includes natural gas, etc.). In sum, the statistics are confusing given the report. I don't recall the story as I read it, but I think Davos was mentioned in there as well. So, what we have here is a typical news story: long on hype and short on facts.

What are the ramifications of Russia becoming the world's largest oil producer/exporter? Does this speak more of Russia's desire to make hard currency or to Saudi Arabia's inability/unwillingness to raise its own production? Can they, in fact raise production? How does this tie in to Peak Oil? Was Russia's vast holdings taken into account by Dr. Hubbert? What are the geopolitical implications? Will this, yet again, stall us from doing what needs to be done: making it a national priority to get off of petroleum? Will Russia sell to our competitors? If this story is true, why did I only see it on a crawl screen on a Japanese news program? Why do I care? What is a "commodity fluid gap?" Why are you still reading this?

Who Is My Neighbor?

Just when you think you have something figured out the universe poses a question just to put you into your place...


While reading through Farmlet today, I noticed Kevin posted a small bit about the Path to Freedom site and how the weather has affected them. This struck me since I just finished writing up a piece for a local tabloid regarding the need for renewed localization and regionalism (plus the fact that the site has been in my bookmarks for a long time now). My reasoning was to offset dependence on foreign products such a energy and food (to name a few) and to renew the dying sense of community in our nation. In the midst of such an idea is the hope of becoming capable again. We have deferred so much of our lives to mechanization, technology and imports that we've become nothing but a nation of consumers, entertainers and soldiers.

So a good dose of self-reliance seemed, in my mind, to be just what the doctor ordered. As with all things, finding the balance is difficult. Americans have leaned so far toward self-reliance for so many years, it has become a defining trait. We idolize the cowboy who rides off on his own to face and master his environment. But we've long since left that reality behind and are now simply smelling its vapors. We are reliant on many for much. We don't like to talk about it and won't really acknowledge it, but it is a fact. This world is smaller now and when a rock falls in Japan we feel it over here.

This jabbering has all been a preface to my attempt at figuring out the balance between the tribe and the individual. I know there is a balance there somewhere, but our tribal experience is with more primitive surroundings and more simple needs. Like it or not, the world has changed. Modern tribes are likely quite different. Now I find myself asking, "Who is my tribe?" "Do we have to live in the same area?" "Do we have to speak the same language?" In days past my tribe would have been obvious. Today, this is not the case. Today, a member of your tribe in New Zealand can note the weather in California and pass the news on to New York in the blink of an eye. The man in New York recalls reading the California tribe member's words for a long time and finding them inspiring. Across those miles is a bond. When news of crop destruction reaches New Zealand and New York, hearts are awakened and compassion is felt.

I am, by nature, an introvert. I do well in crowds but it takes energy from me. If I could I'd probably try to make it on my own like those cowboys of yore. But I know that this game is not meant to be solitaire. We are in this together and we will succeed together or die together. I don't know who is in my tribe and I don't know how this will all work out. I do know that I can't do it alone. I think we sometimes search too hard for answers to "Who am I?" and "Who is my tribe?" when the answers are right under our noses. Right now, all I can think of is reading through Luke 10:25-37 and replacing the word "neighbor" with "tribe member".

Our Father

I will not lie when I tell you that all my stereotypical images of what a "drop-out" would look like were personified in the incarcerated visage of one Alan G. Como. The handful of you who read this blog likely know by now that I think myself to be pretty open-minded and a self-described progressive. That may lead some to believe I have rainbows arcing out of my ass, a peace-sign tan line permanently inscribed on my chest and a visible furrow plowed into my forehead from years of tie-dye bandannas. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. I look like every other drone in the world who holds down a job to keep the cogs of the system well-lubricated with blood and to make enough money to keep my family in gruel. So it pains me when I must admit to holding such prejudices. I don't like admitting to such things because it makes me appear less-than superhuman. But I am just a man. I am fallible and made of flesh. I pray you seek my heart through my words and not just my moral weakness. But I have to admit, when I saw his face, I allowed all my prejudices about those who reject civilization to peek out, if only for just a moment.

When word of the arrest of Alan G. Como came to my ears, it piqued my interest. I live within a manageable driving distance from the beautiful and vastly underrated Adirondack State Park in New York. For those who are unfamiliar, the park is over six million acres of land in northern New York state that contains 3000 lakes, 2000 miles of hiking trails, 30,000 miles of streams and rivers and the entire Adirondack Mountain range. Fully half of the land is slated to be "forever wild" with the remainder being tightly managed. The park is the same size as the state of Vermont. I've spent some time up there and my uncle retired from being a local business owner in that region. It is remote, rugged and has volatile weather. It is also serene, verdant and awe-inspiring.

I am not waxing poetic to be maudlin or to educate those who think New York is nothing but concrete and taxi cabs. I am painting a picture that most of those who yearn to live a freer and more primitive life already hold in their heads. This is the sort of place one imagines when selecting a place to "drop out". This is a place where others have done such things. But this is also the place where police arrested Mr. Como under suspicion of 60 separate counts of burglary. Those burglaries were allegedly performed to secure supplies needed for survival. Mr. Como is not suspected of stealing expensive jewlery, electronics or anything other than items required for survival. This doesn't excuse the crimes, it just places him alongside Jean Valjean. His main crime was living alone, in the woods for over 20 years. His root crime was choosing to live apart from our society and within the confines of nature.

This is where I feel a bit ashamed to admit that I harbor such prejudices, yet I do. When I saw his grubby dwelling, I nodded to myself as if I'd built it myself. When I heard the stories, it was as if I'd written them. When I saw his mugshot, I thought, "There's the sort of man who lives in the woods." I am very interested in hearing what comes out of this.

It was just a couple days ago on Urban Scout's site that I commented how the desire to live a life outside of "civilization" will likely require one to live as a dependent or as a fugitive. This is exactly what I had in mind. This is the sad image I have in my head of those who wish to actually be free from the constraints of this, so-called, civilized world. These people are compelled to live on the edge and become fodder for "America's Most Wanted". It grieves me because it shouldn't have to be this way. One shouldn't have to be wealthy enough to afford hundreds of unspoiled acres or become a stereotypical "mountain man" in order to avoid the poison of the modern world. I don't know if Mr. Como was a person inclined to steal as a standard behavior or if he was forced to do so because he had no other way to survive. Given the facts as we know them, I assume it was the latter. I don't condone stealing, but I understand it in his case. Wouldn't it be better to simply allow people to live this way? I don't pretend to know the answers to all the nagging questions that are raised by such a statement, but I do know that we can never really call ourselves "the land of the free" when men such as Mr. Como are not allowed to actually be free unless it is defined as being shackled to a job, taxes, a mortgage, a car payment and a week's vacation in Amish country each year.

I don't feel sorry for the man, per se. I pity him because I pity all of us who are foolish enough to believe we are free. I weep for us because this man, for whatever reason, actually did what most of us only dream of doing. I mourn our world because we are foolish enough to think this man is the strange one rather than we who freely support this oppressive system (and I do, sadly, think him strange).

This is the face I see when I think of "going wild". This is the face I'm required to see because the system we live under won't have it any other way. God knows we couldn't have a happy, productive, prosperous, and close-knit community of neo-primitivists living in our park lands, could we? What sort of signal would that send? Why, we can't just have people quitting their jobs and running off to form tribes in the woods! Who would be here to watch our TV shows and buy our crap? No, we need to make it illegal. That way, the only ones who even try it will be the ones for whom it is as necessary as breathing. It will only be those who need it like the diabetic needs insulin and the drunkard needs a drink. And we all know what those types are like, right?

I'm so sad for him. But likely, Mr. Como would be sad for me. At least he got caught daring to live as he desired.

But, perhaps I have it all wrong? Maybe he's just another nut living in the woods like Theodore John Kaczynski or Randy Weaver? It may be wrong to try and made someone a symbol or a living martyr, especially when all the facts are still out there. But I really doubt all the facts will come in on this one. So, I'll just pretend that this man is a hero rather than an insane criminal. I'll pretend he is a man abused by the system when all he wanted was to be free. I'll sadly think about his captivity in a police cell when all he's known for 20 years is his six million acre room in Adirondack State Park or other wooded places. I'll be sad for him as I remember the line, "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Professional Spectator

I'm always amazed by the number of people who insert the following phrases into their conversations: "I turned around one day and...", "I was so busy with...", "I never got around to...", "I always wanted to...", "I used to...", "I wish I was...", "I'd never be able to...", "...but I had to give it up.", and "At one time I loved to...".

All of those utterances are sounds of regret and passive abdication. We all, certainly, must see to responsibilities at various times in our lives. Some responsibilities are embraced voluntarily and happily (children, new job, etc.) while others are foisted upon us (anything done through guilt or manipulation, life-altering illness or injury, family crisis, etc.) There is certainly room for compromise on either side. At those very moments when our lives change it invariably brings a death. The death isn't physical but it is psychological or spiritual. I feel that we "grow up" when we become responsible for something. The extent of our growing up is related to our responsibility, but not directly. I think there is a point at which we can grow up no more and I don't think it takes too much to get us to that level. Upon growing up, we are often forced or believe we are required to, as the Apostle Paul encourages, "put aside childish things." We are told by society and civilization that a grown-up person acts in a certain way, so we must live up to those expectations. Since physics teaches us that no two pieces of matter can occupy the same space at the same time, the space now occupied by "childish things" must be vacated so "grown-up things" can take residence. This, far too often, is the tragedy of our modern world.

I am not giving advice either way here. I understand that the configuration of our civilization makes assumptions and requirements upon those who live therein. The doctor doesn't go out drinking hours before surgery. The expectant mother doesn't go rock climbing a week before delivery (does she?). The cable repairman doesn't go to the houses he feels like visiting. The fireman doesn't continue to play cards when the alarm goes off. The babysitter doesn't decide to leave the kids when she gets a better offer.

Modern life increasingly requires more and more specialization. The vast amount of data to be sorted and internalized requires more and more time. The pace of change is such that the ink isn't dry on a software manual before it has been updated. Techniques which once endured generations are swept away week to week for a modern spin or a more efficient adaptation. These requirements, added to the already overwhelming number of options, choices, varieties and possibilities has wrung us of much of our humanity. In a post made a couple weeks ago, I lamented our lack of time in the modern world. Another casualty of civilization has been the "amateur". No, the amateur is not gone or forgotten, but increasingly rare in the true sense of the word. The gist of the word amateur is "one who performs a task for the sheer love of the task." If I go to work and landscape for eight hours a day and get paid for it, I am a professional. If I go home and work on the lawn and gardens for eight hours a day, I am an amateur.

In days past one would aspire to a level of facility in home repair, auto repair, gardening, etc. My dad always made me help work on the vehicles and around the house. My father-in-law would rather get a beating than call a repairman. Today, we commonly contract out those tasks. We bring the car down to the corner lube shop for an oil change. We have someone come to take care of the lawn and garden. We order out. We drop off the laundry. We watch the game. We rent a movie. We buy a music CD. We listen to a sermon. We read a book. We go to the museum and look at paintings. We watch "reality shows" on TV.

We have become the nation of the "compulsive abdicator" and the "professional spectator." Time, certainly, has much to do with this. We've allowed our lives to become so complex and harried, we have no time or energy for extra pursuits. And, since many of us were reared in a home with a family in similar circumstance, we were never taught how to do many of these things. Lack of time is one reason for our incompetence but our lack of role models and mentors is another. Many never learned to change the oil from their mechanically inclined parent. Children have never learned how to cook for a large group.

When skills are not handed down, accessible or valued, they tend to die off. We tend to defer to, so-called, "experts". An example of this is how my wife always says, "You are so much better at that than I am," when I'm doing the dishes (at least I think it is when I'm doing the dishes). I generally quip, "It is because I practice. Maybe you need to get some experience?" I say it half-jokingly, but there is a serious aspect to it. People who wish they were better or even basically competent at something often do little to change the circumstances. Again, there is a limited amount of time and energy, so we must make difficult choices. The sad part of this situation is that we have less and less time to give an ever-increasing number of tasks, options and responsibilities. Also, when you learn a skill, you often learn why that skill is important (the skill's place in the universe and its purpose), not just the rote performance of the task. It is just as important to know why you do something as it is to know how to do something.

Most of the following examples are nothing more than bitches and generalities, but I think some have merit. Some examples of our abdication:

- We defer to a professional class when it comes to the spiritual rather than seeing to our own needs.
- We are more likely to listen to a music CD than to write our own songs.
- We are more likely to buy a book than to write one.
- We prefer our elected officials handle all political issues rather than becoming involved ourselves.
- We hire someone to grow our food for us rather than grow it (or some of it) ourselves.
- We will go to a play before we write and act in one ourselves.
- We will participate in less sports than we watch.

All generalities, yet all likely true. Something I will wager, though, is that many of these items would be less true for younger people. A child would likely feel more inclined to play sports, write a book, write a song, write a play (and act in it, of course) than someone who is an adult. For children, living is a spiritual, participatory adventure and they look to one another for answers to many questions ("What do you think happens when we die, Skippy?"). Kids may beg off politics, but I think they'd be more into participating than observing. That is, until they are told they are not competent. "A bee isn't blue, honey!" "Oh, you colored outside the lines!" "That is nice dear, but those words are nonsense!" "That's not how you do it!" The child learns they are incompetent and that their parents are not willing or able to make them so. I guess it is easier not to not try, eh? Of course, their parents are qualified to teach them one thing: It is easier to denigrate than to educate.

Our civilization has evolved into the mess it is with our complicity. We've abdicated our spirits to priests and holy people. We've given over the running of our lives to politicians. We wouldn't know how to grow our own food even if we had the land upon which to do it. We've allowed ourselves to be commodified. We've allowed ourselves to become parts of the machine. We are cogs, not kings.

This is the world of the specialist, the expert, the holy, the annointed and the gifted. No one dares intrude on that sacred ground. Yet, there are a few who still have the audacity to ask questions, bang on tables, pluck a string, paint a picture and tell a story. I think those who have that spirit will do well in the days to come. They won't need to wait around to be told what to do by an expert. They don't need a priest. They are the true renaissance men and women who give our world hope. They know the joy of dancing without knowing the name of the steps. They dare to write a poem without understanding the intricacies of meter. They will repair their shoes before throwing them out. They play games they make up rather than watch people play games in a stadium. They can hear nature speak clearer than they can hear the TV. They prefer to have a meaningful conversation with friends over renting, "My Dinner with Andre." They draw strength from community rather than experts.

There is a place for experts and seers. Extraordinary circumstances call for extraordinary skills. Everyone is made a better person by experiencing a performance by gifted musicians. Everyone marvels at the craftsmanship of a master builder. We are inspired by great writers and thinkers. But relying on them too much for too long has dulled our skills. Worse than that, by allowing technology and experts to perform these and other tasks, we become less human. We feel we are unable, unworthy and unwanted. We are step-children of the human condition and the human experience. We are helpless invalids in many aspects of life. We've abdicated the thrones of our own lives and given them over to strangers. We no longer pilot our ships. We make more "You Tube" videos showing us lip-syncing or covering a song than we do performing an original composition.

There is no way to recover all that was lost. We are not the same Americans we were in the 1700's when a man would walk behind a plow by day, read philosophy by candlelight and plan revolutions on the weekend. We are not the same people who could play multiple instruments, quote lengthy passages from key works, understand the rhythms and cycles of nature and fabricate our own tools. We do have modern skills that have some merit, but our souls are not modern. We are ancient souls in a modern world.

While we need such humans now, it won't be long before such humans are indispensable. Many of them read these sites. I pray that I live next to people like Comrade Simba or Kevin and Rebecca when the shit hits the fan. We need people that are not only competent, but human. Human in that we understand what makes us human and what nourishes our humanity. There is still time for many to turn their wheels just a bit and regain some of their sovereignty and humanity. For others, I fear it is too late. For them life is truly a spectator sport.

“Professionalism is environmental. Amateurism is anti-environmental. Professionalism merges the individual into patterns of total environment. Amateurism seeks the development of the total awareness of the individual and the critical awareness of the ground rules of society. The amateur can afford to lose. The professional tends to classify and specialize, to accept uncritically the ground-rules of the environment. The ground-rules provided by the mass response of his colleagues serve as a pervasive environment of which he is contentedly unaware. The 'expert' is the man who stays put”
Marshall McLuhan

And Now For Something Completely Different

Perhaps this is akin to sucking a lemon after a shot of tequila, but I thought I needed something to balance what I'm doing here. If you are interested, please click here.