Echoes of Doom

A friend recently mentioned this essay by Charles Eisenstein. It spurred the thoughts below.

So many of my thoughts lately are coalescing around a few writers and musicians. Charles Eisenstein, Wendell Berry, Peter Oren, Various leftist/agrarian reggae artists.

There’s a theme through all this that I can’t escape. I felt it profoundly when I was in San Francisco a few weeks ago. This disconnection in a world that claims to be overly connected. If there’s anywhere to feel that feeling, you’ll find it on the streets of this techno-wizard city beset with income inequality, housing madness, and unbridled greed all in the guise of progress.

When I ran through the Presidio one morning, I jogged off the path and just stood in the midst of the giant trees there. I just needed to absorb some of that energy and dispel some of my own negative energy. Even there, I was reminded that this was an Army base and I marveled at the barracks and stables where we once guarded against intrusion by the other.

I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and I watched a giant tanker pass under the bridge. I waved at a guy on the ship. I envied his impending journey out on the ocean. Meek in the face of nature but with an empty sky above him full of stars.

I considered what that tanker was carrying and it made me wonder how we have become so adept at the corruption of our own wellbeing. Here’s a marvel of engineering used not to further our wonder or knowledge but to schlep the effluence resulting from inflicting wounds on the land for the sole purpose of convenience.

I recently ran past the hotly contested Mountain Valley Pipeline construction that’s happening here in southwest Virginia. It’s a 30 yard wide scar across mountains, streams, the Appalachian Trail, vistas of wonder. I just stopped and stood in the middle of this destruction. It looked like a giant had taken its finger and smudged everything in its path into a broken, gray wasteland. It’s a rending of the Earth with no concern except the attempt to sate the hunger for commerce and the religion of more.

Some guy in a hardhat and hi-vis vest yelled at me to “get off his work site.” The use of the possessive there made me furious. I shuffled off and wondered what exactly it was that he thought he owned.

I can’t escape these echoes of the boundless pain we inflict on our world and ourselves. I get back to my desk and see that Apple has announced a new phone which is priced at $1,449. The world rejoices while Apple sits on billions in cash and we marvel at these kings of capitalism.

Author: Alex Ezell

A person who runs, reads, and writes. They pay me to build software but I'd rather be doing any of those other three things.

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