Moving. Again.
Since late 2006 I've kept 3 different not-blog websites, and the reasons for jumping around were, in my head, justified. Now I'm doing it again. I'm going to try out Wordpress for a while. I liked doing it all from scratch, but my reasons for trying it out are many.
Cowardice and heroism
I'm inspired to express my opinion on different subjects from two different online articles today, but I do see a commonality of some sort between them.
First, the latest post from Jim Kunstler. (He's another writer I've never read anything by except online material, but I kind of keep up with him. Sort of. Until mid-summer I used to do the same with Derrick Jensen, but I eventually read Strangely Like War and, most recently, A Language Older Than Words.) Most of the post seems to be more of the same: the peaking of oil production will erase the economy we now know, things are going to change in ways most people wouldn't have imagined, we're going to have to localize and say goodbye to driving everywhere, and we should really put some effort into reviving this country's rail system! If I didn't like his posts I wouldn't read them, but unfortunately they often reiterate the same things.
But the thing that got me is that he brought up immigration. I found this to be a breath of fresh air and something I wasn't expecting, but really happy to see. Since it was brought to my attention that immigration in the United State might be a problem for reasons other than "They're taking our jobs!" and complete xenophobia, I've only seen the issue talked about by a select few (John Feeney and Al Bartlett being notable ones). But now I can add Jim Kunstler to the list of people actually admitting the issue, and being an author of books versus just articles, and someone I've actually seen on TV talking about the ideas he writes about, he probably even has a larger audience.
The economy we're evolving into will be un-global, necessarily local and regional, and austere. It won't support even our current population. This being the case, the political fallout is also liable to be severe. For one thing, we'll have to put aside our sentimental fantasies about immigration. This is almost impossible to imagine, since that narrative is especially potent among the Democratic Party members who are coming in to run things. A tough immigration policy is exactly the kind of difficult change we have to face. [Emphasis mine.] This is no longer the 19th century. The narrative has to change.1
He then goes on to criticize the President Elect and others for throwing around the word "growth" and explaining that what we need is a "managed contraction."
I've recently come across criticisms of those who claim things are taboos (in the cases I've seen them it's been people saying population issues are not taboo), but among most leftists saying immigration even might be a problem is still quite taboo. In my life I see signs of this everywhere: punk bands and friends of mine saying things like "Fuck the border," shirts that show American Indians with rifles and say "Homeland Security," etc. I'd only even become aware of the numbers-only side of immigration issues earlier in the year, but I've been terrified to bring up the topic among friends. That fear was only strengthened after someone told me I was suggesting ethnic cleansing as a method of reducing population. (I wasn't.)
I think part of the reason it's such a taboo is that many activists and politicians on the left hold conflicting values that cause them to get mixed up. I hate that so many environmentalists are actually social justice advocates in disguise who care more about ending poverty than true ecological issues, even though poverty is created by the same super-capitalist money economy that is destroying the environment—A.K.A. two symptoms of the same disease. One of those symptoms, however (ecological damage), is so severe that it's a real risk to all of us, impoverished or not. (Think of having both a cough and a headache. The headache isn't bothering you too much, but the cough is so rough and brutal that you're coughing up blood and your throat is being destroyed.) The key is, of course, curing the disease, not the symptoms.
I don't like the idea of imaginary borders, either. In fact, since the Southwest used to be Mexico, I'm usually of the opinion that we should let the Mexicans take it back. But not for the wrong reasons, and not if they're coming to America to take a bigger chunk of the standard-of-living pie. My thoughts on the issue basically mirror those of John Feeney: "In my case, in my heart, I don't like the idea of immigration restrictions, but from an environmental point of view I see no way around the issue."2
So there has been this severe dissonance within me whenever it comes to the things I think are important. I still try to appear as if I don't give a shit, that I'll speak my mind no matter what because certain things need to be talked about, but that's in stark contrast to the me that holds back when I know I'll be met with opposition by the people I'm somewhat close to. I've kind of come to realize that this is one of the things that makes so many people in our society neurotic: none of them know what to do or how to behave.
What many people do know, however, is that they don't like they life they were handed, and so they act out. Late this summer I came across ExiledOnline.com and read an article about the Georgia-Russia war. I added the site to my feed reader not long after and I've come across a handful of other articles from it that I've really liked.
The latest War Nerd post, from yesterday (Dec. 15), was one that I kind of did, but kind of didn't like. It seemed intelligent enough and pointed out a few inconsistencies with the scare-mongering of news sources, but one particular paragraph/sentence got me:
What’s probably happening with these Somali idiots is that they’re joining the long, long line of American kids who got bored with being rich and living the easy life and decided to go get themselves killed for a bunch of treacherous bandits fighting under a fancy name with “freedom” in it, off in some godforsaken part of the world where all the locals would sell their firstborn for the chance to live in the cushy American neighborhood these idiots left behind."3
The problem I have is that, or so it seems, Brecher is defending the boring, rich life as if there is nothing wrong with it. Immediately I drew a parallel to when I watched VBS.tv's documentary on black metal/interview with Gaahl. In the video descriptions is a small Q&A with some of the guys involved with putting it together, and one of them (who is afraid for his life at one point in the video) makes the following comment:
Gaahl really believes in this whole ideology behind what he's doing; he's not just some rockstar fronting a band. The thing with Black Metal is, in Norway, everybody is exactly the same. There's nothing to rebel against, because everybody's really well off. It's one of the richest countries in Europe. There is no lower class, it's like middle-class white kids everywhere. No one has anything to complain about. [Emphasis mine.] And he's this sort of eccentric figure amidst this sea of contentment and sameness. The way I see it is, in America you have guys like 50 Cent who are supposed to be the "villain." Kids like him cause they're parents hate him, and that's basically what Gaahl is. He's their musical villain so to speak. But there's a lot of different sides to the scene.4
(The comments are pretty bad too.) The thing that both the War Nerd post and the guy in this video seem to be missing is that there are people out there who don't like this world of easy comfort and sameness because they know it's fake. The world of money is imaginary. An easy life of comfort you don't have to work for makes you bored. Everything that sustains us is invisible. All of it breeds neurosis and drives us crazy; we're disconnected, lost, we hate the lives we're living, so some of us rebel.
I wouldn't say I'm neurotic, but I'm definitely a lost soul and a person completely displeased with the situation I was born into, even though my survival is not at risk and I could probably go through life easily and comfortably with just minimal effort. But I don't want to. If there was a war worth fighting, a cause I believe in that required me to take up arms and fight, I would do it. I don't believe in Jihad or any of these wars fueled by ideological differences that will never be reconciled, but if there was something I believe in, I would make war for it, even though I know war is not enough to make significant, lasting change.
And for these reasons I can also see why black metal exists, while Rob (the guy from VBS) doesn't. The things he notes as good, and as reason for not rebelling, are the very things to rebel against. Metal is condemning the sameness, the sheepishness, all of the middle-class white kids with nothing to complain about, because they know this life is fake, that it's ruining real life, and that it's destined to fail. Comparing Gaahl to 50 Cent has no meaning because 50 Cent, too, is that sameness, a symbol of that world in which the middle-class white kids with nothing to complain about exist.
Notes and Links
- Change You Won't Believe at jameshowardkunstler.typepad.com.
- John Feeney
interview at corrupt.org
For more on numbers-only immigration issues, please see Roy Beck's Immigration by the Numbers video and Al Bartlet's example of Boulder in Arithmetic, Population and Energy (you can just ctrl+f Boulder and read the surrounding paragraphs of the first instance, if you like). - Minnesota to Somalia: The Kinko’s Crusade at exiledlonline.com
- True Norwegian Black Metal at vbs.tv
Woops
I made a big mistake: I let myself get into the habit of seeing the future in the short term. I got used to seeing gas prices sky-high. I got used to the price of everything going up. I got used to turning on the news and seeing bad news—not just about robberies or shootings, but about the state of the world. I thought this was the end of it all; I thought it was all falling apart, right now, and it was happening in front of my eyes.
I was wrong, of course, and because I was wrong, I got depressed. I wanted the end. I wanted to stop wishing and dreaming and hoping and actually start seeing some results. I wanted to stop being a skeptic and a naysayer; I wanted to have something to point to and say "Look! It's right here, don't you see?"
The worst part about it is that I've always tried to stick to the long-term, to keeps in mind that immediate results aren't what we should expect or even want. The Iroquois used to live (and some still do, at least those who weren't wiped out) by a simple philosophy: "In every deliberation we must consider the impact on the seventh generation..." This is a good way to think, and certainly a sustainable way to think. (I thought about saying "more sustainable" there, but since the world we live in today isn't sustainable to begin with, it doesn't fit.)
For a while I was responding to friends and family, when they'd mention how cheap gas had gotten, "Yeah, but you have to be careful about getting used to that. If the prices dropped this fast [Prices have reduced by more than 50% in mere months] you have to keep in mind that they could shoot back up just as fast." This was out of the belief that prices would shoot back up. Now I'm not so sure. Now I'm not sure I even believe what I said. With prices lower than they were in 2005, and still dropping, I'm not sure four-dollar-a-gallon gas is right around the corner again. I still believe the numbers are on the side of Peak Oil, but I don't know what that means for gas prices. Maybe they'll stay this low for another year.
But at least there's the "crisis" in the financial markets, right? That should keep my doom-and-gloom dreams under control. Really, though, I'm not sure there either. It seems like there has been debate over "Will we see a recession?" for a year now. Maybe we won't. The rates of growth might shrink, but there might not be actual shrinkage.
The thing I have to keep in mind, or any of us for that matter, is that this is just the very beginning. If this is what I really think it is—the beginning of the end of industrial society, the turning of a new page, the death of a violently unhealthy lifestyle—and I really hope it is, then I have to keep in mind that it's going to take a long, long time. I have to remember that this might take several generations; I'll probably be long gone by the time it gasps its last, dying breath. I have to do what I can to stop it, but I also have to find ways to stay sane while I'm alive.
A few days ago I heard someone talking about how the United States were born against all odds, and how, even against those odds, the country became the greatest economic power that the world has ever known. My immediate reaction was So what? It's still going to fail. I thought of Rome, which I had alluded to without mentioning directly in my last post. The Roman Empire was around for about 1500 years (in various forms). Fifteen hundred! The United States has been around for a little more than 200. The Roman Empire, being arguably the most vast, expansive, influential Empire that dominated the largest chunk of time in all of Western history still fell. And it didn't fall overnight: it took hundreds of years.
I—we—have to accept that it might be a long, long, bumpy ride. It might not take hundreds of years, but the complete transformation might not occur within any of our lifetimes. Gas prices might stay low. We might not ever see a recession. We might grow and grow and grow (at lower rates each year) until we can grow no more. While the cracks might be visible today, they might not actually affect the integrity of the foundation very much for years to come. We have to be patient.
Energy Tomorrow
I've started seeing commercials for this website EnergyTomorrow.org, produced by API, the American Petroleum Institute. The commercials are, seemingly, supposed to reassure the American consumer/taxpayer/middle-class citizen that the so-called "energy crisis" isn't as bad as it might seem and that with a calm, reasoned approach America will make its way out unscathed. The commercial went like this:
Where on Earth could we ever find enough oil and natural gas to power more than 60 million cars and heat 160 million households for 60 years? Right here in America.
Log on to learn more.
I'm not shocked at the blatant ignorance of facts, the delusional vision of the future, or anything else on the list of things that might irritate me when it comes to energy and the environment. In fact, although I don't have the statistics in front of me, I'm almost sure their figures and projections are spot on. In fact, I don't think this commercial lies to anyone, nor do I feel it's totally ignorant.
But I am shocked. What I find shocking is the projection of sixty years and the fact that this group, the American Petroleum Institute, doesn't seem to have any problem with accepting that number. The reason I find it shocking is simply because 60 years is just not a long time. It's less than a human lifetime. It's just over half a century. Sixty years, while it isn't necessarily "short term," is anything but long. Sixty years ago we just got done fighting the Germans, and we still can't shut up about that. Sixty years is a blink when you consider all of history. And hell, just look at the United States: sixty years is roughly a quarter of its age. As far as empires go, the U.S. is like... a tween. And a sixty-year-old is like... a toddler.
So what I will say is that the commercials are honest and not maliciously misleading. I'll follow that up, however, by countering and saying that they are quite possibly fueled by the self-interests of those producing them, and that while they might not be blatantly deceiving, they are still misleading.
Upon visiting their website, I was greeted with this:
Rhetoric vs. Reality
Rhetoric: We can't drill our way out of this problem because the United States only has three percent of the world’s oil reserves.
Reality: America has vast resources of oil and natural gas – enough oil to power more than 60 million cars for the next six decades and enough natural gas to heat 60 million homes for 160 years, according to government estimates. We may have considerably more resources, since the government conducted their last true inventory in the early 1980s using old data from now-outdated seismic equipment.
To help encourage informed and effective conversations about energy, API has compiled some of the most frequently heard claims and proposals, along with the realities that need to be considered when evaluating them.
(They have a list of other issues on their "Energy Rhetoric vs Reality" page1.)
Immediately I was taken aback: Were they really going to try using the don't believe the rhetoric angle when they, themselves, are using misleading rhetoric? Rhetoric is something I only recently have felt comfortable saying I have a grasp on, but I noticed the hypocrisy immediately.
If rhetoric is the art using language effectively to make a point, or to get oneself across, then it should be acceptable to question rhetoric when we feel it misleads or conveys an idea that isn't entirely true. On the website, API question the rhetoric of (mostly) skeptics and environmentalists. But, when you study the statistics they present, it's easy—very, very easy—to notice that there is some spin on what they're showing, too. (I'm not saying I question their motives. While I would trust an independent study more, it wouldn't matter if the information was still spun.)
Where I noticed it was in the numbers. The above ad gives us a peek: Why 60 million cars? Why 160 million households? Why 60 years? The "We can't drill our way out..." question exposes this even more: "America has vast resources of oil and natural gas – enough oil to power more than 65 million cars for the next six decades and enough natural gas to heat 60 million homes for 160 years, according to government estimates." Why now 65 million cars? Why now 60 million homes? Why now 160 years?
While I can't answer these questions with certainty, I think it comes down to a balancing act. How can they effectively present true figures in a way that doesn't seem dismally pessimistic? One way is by choosing a moderate chunk of time and a moderate chunk of cars and homes and saying, "Look! We can do it!" instead of facing the uglier side of reality that says if rates of consumption continue to grow, and the amount of resources continue to shrink, it will all be gone in relatively little time. There aren't only 60-65 million cars in the United States; there are actually about 200 million registered drivers and somewhere around 250 million motor vehicles2. And there aren't only 60 million homes, either, but over 100 million3.
These numbers sound big until you realize they're only a
fraction of the whole. It's like when we're told there are x billion barrels of
oil in y place, but not told we consume that oil at z barrels/day and it will be
gone in n days. If there is 116.4 billion barrels of recoverable oil in
U.S. territory, that's a whole lot of oil. But if we keep consuming oil
at (or around) 20 million barrels/day, it will only last about 15 years, not
604.
In actuality, though, oil consumption in the United States has fallen ever-so-slightly in the last year or two5. Globally, however, demand still rises6. With this information we can realize some new things.
First of all, this points to an inevitable reduction in energy use. If they want the resources to last a considerable amount of time, either they only fuel part of the population, or they they give everybody something less than the maximum. But if everyone has all they want and are going ahead full-steam, which is an entirely possible situation, or if rates of consumption in the U.S. start rising again, like they historically have, all of this wonderful energystuff will be gone significantly sooner than projected.
Second, I think it points to the possibility of global trade. If consumption in the U.S. continues to reduce, which is also a possible situation, while it continues to rise in other parts of the world, it's been said that American companies might start to export their product. While this might provide some boost to the American economy, it will reduce the amount of domestic energy matter we can use at home. Without going much deeper into it, this also scratches the surface of a long list of other economic issues to consider. The most obvious might be, What happens if oil becomes so expensive as supplies decrease that it no longer makes economic sense to use?
So in the end, what is it I'm saying? Quite simply, be wary. Question everything, trust no one, do your own research. If a commercial from the oil industry tells you we'll be fine with what we have for a long time, look at the numbers for yourself. Look at what they're telling you, but also at what they aren't. Put it all in perspective of the bigger picture however you can, because it's important.
Notes and Links
- Energy Rhetoric vs Reality at energytomorrow.org
- Licensed Drivers and Vehicle Registrations at infoplease.com
- USA QuickFacts from the US Census Bureau at census.gov
- Simple math! 116 billion barrels ÷ 20 million barrels/day = 5800 days
5800 days ÷ 365 days/year = 15.9 years - EIA - Short-Term Energy Outlook, U.S. Petroleum at eia.doe.gov
- EIA - Short-Term Energy Outlook, Global Petroleum at eia.doe.gov
Season 3 of The Wire
OK, it wasn't necessarily that I learned anything brand new, but that some of the ideas I had before were reinforced. Basically it comes down to two things that, in the show, were really one: (1) morality is garbage, and (2) legalizing drugs within free zones (I always called them "immunity zones") can work.
When I say that morality is garbage, that's not to say that I'm an evil serpent trying to tempt virgins into eating apples and laying with strange men (isn't that how it goes?). No, it's quite the opposite indeed. Being something of a stoic myself, I'm quite the fond of restraint and don't embrace hedonism. I don't think the world should be a free-for-all; we shouldn't all be shooting up in dark allies and fornicating with everything that moves, or at least not in my opinion. But that's really what it comes down to: morality is based on opinions, at its very core. There are no moral absolutes. Morals are strange things people came up with (like gods) to explain things they didn't yet understand and to keep people in order. I'm not saying that I disagree with all people's morals, because I don't, but living in accordance with these things we're told are absolutes creates circumstances that are at odds with reality.
Humans are the only animals that live by these codes. Every other animal is amoral, doing what needs to be done in order to survive. Nature itself is amoral. So why then do humans, as animals, have these arbitrary codes to live by? Because humans often like to think they are of another order, that they aren't a part of the animal kingdom, and that they don't belong to nature. But in reality, of course, they are. OK, OK... that's not exactly the point. How does it all work in practice?
I'm sure that the writers of the show didn't mean to make a statement on morality or ethics, but to me, someone who is simply a viewer with his own ideas, seeing character after character take exception to "Hamsterdam" just demonstrated how ineffective these imaginary absolute codes are.
For those that haven't seen the show, I'll summarize what happened.
In the first episode of the season, the city council (the head of which is planning on running for mayor, as we find out later) is putting pressure on both the police department and the mayor to reduce crime throughout the city. In a meeting among the higher-ups within the police department, all of the District Commanders are instructed to reduce felonies in their district by 5%. Additionally, they are told that murders city-wide will be held below 275. Though the Commissioner and Deputy don't come right out and say it, it's implied that stats can be falsified and cases can be bumped down in order to meet these demands by telling their men to reduce felonies any way they can, no matter what, or else risk their jobs.
Although he made a brief appearance in season two, this is where we meet Major Howard "Bunny" Colvin for real. In this meeting he acknowledges that there are ways to reclassify felonies, but with some audacity he asks, boldly, "how do you make a body disappear?"
But, as anyone knows, things don't just happen because we say we want them to happen. Real crimes didn't reduce even though that's what the higher-ups had said needed to be done. Late in episode two, the Major addresses his men with what I think is a pretty damn good speech:
Somewheres, back in the dawn of time, this district had itself a civic dilemma of epic proportion. The city council had just passed a law that forbid alcoholic consumption in public places—on the streets, and on the corners. But the corner is, and it was, and it always will be the poor man's lounge. It's where a man wants to be on a hot summer's night. It's cheaper than a bar, catch a nice breeze, watch the girls go by. But a law is a law. The western cops rollin' by, what were they gonna do? If they arrested every dude out there for tippin' back a High Life there'd be no other time for any other kind of police work. And if they looked the other way they'd open themselves to all kinds of flaunting—all kinds of disrespect.
Now, this is before my time when it happened, but somewhere back in the '50s or '60s there was a small moment of god-damn genius by some nameless smokehound who comes out the cut-rate one day and on his way to the corner, he slips that just-bought pint of elderberry into a paper bag. A great moment of civic compromise. That small wrinkled-ass paper bag allowed the corner boys to have their drink in peace, and it gave us permission to go and do police work—the kind of police work that's actually worth the effort, that's worth actually taking a bullet for.
Dozerman, he got shot last night trying to buy three vials. Three! There's never been a paper bag for drugs... until now.
When it comes time to fudge the stats in order to make the department look good, Major Colvin opts instead to keep his integrity intact and to show what really happened if for no other reason than he's sick of the shit. The result? An accurate reflection of what's going on in the streets: a 2% rise in crime. And of course the bosses are pissed, which he simply takes with a smirk.
The next time he addresses his men he directs them to corral all drug trafficking to three designated areas within the district. It's a tough sell, but he gets the officers to accept the orders by telling them it's a tactical decision: once all of the dealers and addicts alike are settled into the free zones, and they're nice and comfortable, they'll go in and make mass arrests. Not long after, the orders are carried out, and with this, Hamsterdam is created.
Major Colvin solved the riddle and throughout the remainder of the season the viewer is shown that it's working brilliantly. Crime drops a staggering 14% across the western district, and even in the free zones, drug use and other petty stuff aside, crime is down in these areas, too. The drug game is safer. Guns aren't allowed and fights are broken up. From what I recall, in the five weeks Colvin's "experiment" ran, there were a handful of ODs, a handful of robberies, and one murder. Compared to the drug scene when it was out on the corners, it's a huge improvement.
Nobody liked what they saw, though. Colvin continued telling anyone who reacted with disgust that it was just a tactical deployment. But of course he was lying, as he himself recognized and acknowledged that as soon as the free zones are raided, the drugs would go back to the corners and crime would go back to the levels it was at before. He'd stumbled upon something that worked, but nobody else wanted to admit it.
Of course Hamsterdamn was ugly. Objectively, though, it was better than before, and this was demonstrated both by statistics and through big-picture thinking.
Imagine someone coming upon it for the first time: If someone were to walk through a clean city where crime and drug use wasn't a problem, and then came across a few blocks where everything wretched was tolerated, it's reasonable to guess such a person would react negatively. In comparison with the clean streets around it, the free zone would look like an absolute hellhole. But it's the very concentration of all of the bad shit in one place that makes it look so bad. Before it was all in one place things were just as bad, just spread out. That spread, in effect, also made larger areas unsafe and ugly. Concentrated ugliness, in comparison with ugliness scattered throughout, might look worse, but it does far less damage.
The fact is, it worked, and if it weren't for moral outrage, it could have continued working, perhaps indefinitely. Nobody who was outraged with the experiment was outraged over it being ineffective. No, quite the contrary: they were outraged over the legalization of drugs, over the surrender in the drug war. They had been defeated in a moral war. Evil had prevailed. Even though that amount of evil had been drastically reduced, even though that evil was affecting fewer people, it had prevailed.
But those outraged morally at the triumph of evil were ignoring the facts, and therefore ignoring reality. It wasn't that evil had prevailed, because the evil was always there. And since both the amount and the affect of it had been reduced, one could argue equally as well (or probably better) that the said evil was being defeated. (This is, generally, how "least harm" ethical codes work.) In reality, crime had been reduced. In reality, everyone in the free zones—buyers and sellers—was already in the drug game beforehand. In reality, the city was safer for everyone. And with needle exchanges and other health services in the areas, it was even safer for the drug users to use drugs. (Personally this isn't an aspect of it I support, but if some people demand it, I have no reason to want to stop it. I think people should be allowed to do as they're naturally inclined to do up until the point where their actions negatively affect those around them or the community. This includes being allowed the freedom to self-destruct. But hey, if you want to keep them alive so they can keep usin', I won't argue.)
The Wire was a TV show, and because of this the situation presented is a hypothetical. Given the realism, across the board, of the show, however, I think it presents it in a believable fashion. I see no large holes in the situation as shown, so I accept it as a reasonable simulation. And given conclusions I've come to in life, I continue to assert the value of removing any artificial filters when looking at issues, whether those filters are moral, political, economic, or otherwise, because doing so allows one to see what is really happening clearly. When we see things clearly, then we can make informed decisions. We don't need the pretext.
But more on the failures of morality and its incompatibility with reality on another day. Or several other days, more likely. I've got more Nietzsche on the reading list and every other topic I've wanted to touch involves moral thinking and filterless thought, so it'll pop up.
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