In Whose Name?
In my life I have flown around and over many parts of this rock pile we call home hundreds if not thousands of times both very high and very low. At first it was over new and intriguing places by definition, lately it had been over increasingly familiar ones where familiar people went on living familiar and simple lives just like me. Thank God I have met so many of them too! Really many, many, beautiful people; some of them almost as angels and some of them legends in their own time. For me, their company has been as close to heaven as one could get 'down here' I guess. But there has also been an ugly side to watching points on my map drift by from 35,000 feet day in and day out. We don't all think alike, and if I had to pick the one thing that has bugged me the most all this time, then THIS would have to be IT.
Copyright © 1989, Kalman FeherEarth reveals her surprising fragility to us loud and clear as we notice her barely suggested curve around the horizons on a clear day. She really should mean so much more to us than she seems to. We should stop raping her. For decades I have watched the stacks, standing erect where we should kneel, incessantly vomit what must be our version of reverence into her pale blue sacred halo, that relatively shell-thin layer of air with which she gives us license to live. I could never keep from revolt each time I would track the signs of industrial sewers snaking first into the rivers and then into the oceans, or at the sight of ships far below dispersing the stains of environmental atrocity in their wake thinking themselves invisible in the middle of nowhere. Nor are we the only victims of our own parasite stupidity; there are also the creatures that we so readily condemn to our own blindness while probably knowing less about them then they do about us. Genesis, as poetic or as literal for its time as one would care, gives us dominion over the animals but too many of us are reading dominance where responsibility was written.
There is a little hope in that we have started reducing the diarrhea of environmental insults that our self declared divine presence imposes on our celestial hostess, but I'm not convinced that it has been anywhere near enough or fast enough. While we publicly aspire to being awarenesses of highest origins, we certainly don't act the way that instruments of such ancestry would. Instead we cast all fate to the winds of abandon and dream of release from accounting. While we have lately begun regulating to protect the ozone layer, exactly how many countries are subject to these regulations? And how many billions of recklessly discarded refrigerators loaded with freon still await their appointed moment of rupture buried shallow in the dumps of the world? The poison pill is in Mother Earth's womb; and somewhere down the road an assured coup de grace may well lie in wait for us, the day when we should run out of UV protection and start having to live indoors while no food grows in sterile soil outside.
Come the invisible horsemen. The chemical complex keeps winning every round while our immune systems continue their accelerating downhill race as a result. AIDS, cancer, reduced sperm and egg counts in the privileged agricultural and ranching communities most exposed to the good things from the labs, you name it, these are just the first and most visible signs and waves of victims. The humming birds may soon have to go, and when they do then we will have to go with them. We neither see nor hear because we neither look nor listen but instead continue diving headlong and hemming like toward the gates of perdition. Our food chain is becoming a synthetic brew foaming at the mouth with chemicals we know little and sometimes even less about. Do we really need nuclear winters? The toast-inertia is already in many of the embryos from where there can be no return along the evolutionary marathon of miracles, and the inevitable degradation that must follow such upsets had already locked on us even before cloning was discovered. Will the out of control spread of genetically modified seeds matter? Will their vendors ever be held to account?
Oh, Lady Earth will survive us alright, at least until the Sun maxes out, but exactly what are we leaving for our children in paradise between now and then? Even primitive First Nations commanded: taking only what you need along and for your journey, otherwise leave the land as you had found it. Such would be a very wise law I would think, but they don't make the laws and we only think that we do. Should forestry companies be limited, just one percent more each year, to cutting only what they had planted? That at least would project a reasonably attainable end of at least one form of devastation that the human infection on the planet has spoken its presence with. Those who insist on believing that all is infinite on our warm and blue planet, on whose lovely face we have been falling around the Sun for eons, should listen to an old Vangelis song called 'Albedo-0.39' and try to listen between the lines. Then they should try to continue fooling themselves when no one is looking.