I consumed three pieces of information this evening, each separately spurring deep emotional responses, and when it all came together I went into overdrive. It is 2 am. I don't have time to refine these thoughts any more (school is frustratingly restricting while also being necessary to the depth of my understanding). And because I want you to engage with them I decided to just let the whole thing loose. Don't expect cohesion. I am endlessly frustrated with how my words fall short, by miles. This is why I have reiterated my thoughts multiple ways (ah, a glimpse into my writing process).
But perhaps you will process and create sharper words to share. This is my hope.
First Piece of Information
"America's farmer's had long been making political trouble for Wall Street and Washington; in the words of historian Walter Karp, 'since the Civil War at least, the most unruly, the most independent, the most republican of American citizens have been the small farmers.' Beginning with the populist revolt of the 1890s, farmers had made common cause with the labor movement, working together to check the power of corporations. Rising agricultural productivity [due to synthetic nitrogen fertilizers] handed a golden opportunity to the farmers' traditional adversaries. Since a smaller number of farmers could now feed America, the moment had come to 'rationalize' agriculture by letting the market force prices down and farmers off the land. So Wall Street and Washington sought changes in farm policies that would loose "a plague of cheap corn" on the nation, the effects of which are all around us–indeed in us."
–"The Omnivore's Dilemma," Micheal Pollan
... This quote, though, is the straw on the camel's back. It lays bare just how deep the meddling hands of the profiteers can reach, ripping the farmer from their land and replacing them with technology that rapes the land of its life-giving properties resulting in a complete dependence on a product that, financially, benefits the 1%.
Farming was necessarily unable to be hooked up to the capitalist system, for farming relies on various other natural forces for its survival. Therefore farmer's could represent interests more/less outside the capitalist structure. But those who profit found a way to plug it in and destroy the farmers in one fell swoop.
----
Second Piece of Information
Since when did we become so unrelentingly polarized that trying to find the "others'" truth is an unforgivable crime in the public's eye?
When attempting to navigate the undeniable fact of multiple opposing truths, how does one move forward?
Is maintaining ignorance of other peoples' truths, therefore bolstering your own convictions, necessary to getting things done in a timely manner? To what detriment?
How has it come to be that society moves so fast that listening is a waste of time? We need time to be careful (full of care) when approaching our (humanity's and the Earth's) future and yet we seem to have cornered ourselves into a space where there is practically no time at all. What do we do now?
----
Third Piece of Information
... We should mourn because sentimentality is what allows us to be affected. If we cannot be affected we experience nothing. Yet sentimentality has been vilified, defined as a form of weakness and cast out of societies' repertoire for tenacity.
What is that word? Weakness. Why are we so afraid of being weak? What does it mean to be weak? What detriment does being weak create for the individual, for society?
----
We humans have a population that exceeds the natural law of a carrying capacity. Our species' incredible ability to overcome that law must not be celebrated without a reminder of its cost. Our dependence on an ever-dwindling energy source now inextricably linked to our dependence on a system based on exploitation and oppression will destroy our descendants' future.
Is it too late? Are we doomed to rely on technology for our survival? Technology is not beautiful when it is our only choice... a 2D solution to our having destroyed the unfathomably intricate processes of life that sustained us. What is the point of human life if we can consolidate our entire existence into a few singular solutions?
I will not worship the drones that replace our bees. The drones did not kill the bees, they are the solution to the bees being killed. But if we did not have a solution to the bees being killed, would we have killed the bees? If we did not trust our own adaptability, our technological solutions, would we kill the coral reef? If we prioritized our connection to the Earth, would we seek solutions that move us ever farther from needing her?
My God is the intricate chaos that creates the ebb and flow of our universe. You can see it if you look closely at our cells, at our genetics, at the base of all life. For the first time I am realizing that we may have streamlined our lives to such an extent that we have removed ourselves from my God.
The bee is born of that intricate chaos and is connected to very many other forces than just the making of honey through pollination. The bee is beautiful. Each individual bee is unique. Within that diversity lies innumerable possibilities. That diversity is where beauty is born.
The drone is born of human's minute understanding of the forces of that intricate chaos that perpetuates life and is therefore connected only to our tiny thread of knowledge about the elaborate relationship between pollination and life. Each drone is identical. The possibilities of the drone end with its function. The drone will not evolve with its environment. It is not connected to the web of life, it has a singular strand that connects and depends on us. I do not view this as beautiful.
Perhaps it is time to cease our celebration for the solutions we devise and acknowledge that often these solutions arise from a problem we hastily and blindly created. Perhaps we should mourn.
We should mourn because we are limiting the possibilities of our future as it relates to our Earth's. If we remove diversity from our lives we disrupt and potentially destroy the possibility for evolution–one of the many results of that intricate chaos.
We should mourn because true beauty cannot be replicated as it is within variation that beauty is grown.
We should mourn because our free will is dwindling. We are plugged into a system others created for profit. If our farmer's are no longer feeding us then it must be a machine. That machine runs on profit, at any non-monetary expense.
We should mourn because no one seems to be listening.
