…are we extinct yet?

November 14th, 2008

Hello… is anybody there… ?
The UN says the world is in the midst of the greatest mass extinction since the big one - yep, Dinosoars - 65 million years ago. In 2007, one of the Earth’s oldest living species, the Baiji dolphin, was considered extinct and no longer to be found in it’s home, the mighty Yangtze River - over fishing and environmental degredation - for a change.

Cetaceans are more than sentinals of the sea or canaries in the coal mine - they are at the top of the food chain and when they are endangered and reaching extinction while everybody’s busy worrying about the markets - you know we’re in deep shit. You better believe it!

Links:
uTube vid on Pacific gyre
AmericanCetaceanSociety ACS conference this weekend in Monterey
NRDC resourses
guardian/environment/gallery

Share/Save/Bookmark

No Comments

Wild Geese

October 21st, 2008

Mary Oliver, Selected Poems

Share/Save/Bookmark

Comments Off

Obviously using food crops for fuel is a phenomenally stupid idea that could only be born of the rapacious corporate mind for profit before humanity.

An effective solution to the issue of using vegetable oils for diesel fuel is outlined in this extraordinary vid on prolific algae farmed fuel oil production.
(Baring in mind of course, that this is still fuel for the archaic combustion engine and so can only remain an interim solution for an antique technology.)

Share/Save/Bookmark

No Comments

Happy Birthday Bucky Fuller

July 12th, 2008

[Planet Waves] Bucky Fuller: This Is The Future


Born Friday, July 12, 1895, which makes today his 113th birth anniversary. He shares a birth year with Dane Rudhyar, Rudolph Valentino, Jeddu Krishnamurti and Carl Orff

… informative article on Bucky Fuller dymaxion design and astrological musings here

Share/Save/Bookmark

No Comments

July 11th, 2008

… the fire is coming up the slope towards our house. Flames are erupting immediately all around. Candles in the house are igniting spontaneously from the heat and gasses - there’s fire everywhere! I yell to Jessie call 911, call the neighbours, get help, we gotta run, but she’s just talking away to a girlfriend on the phone… I wake, heart pounding, it’s hot as hell, smoke filling the air. The wind has changed. I get up to close the windows, go back to bed, but the smoky air has my adrenalin still pumped - this is the subliminal edge we’ve (all) been living on for the last weeks…

Share/Save/Bookmark

No Comments

July 5th, 2008

Pico Blanco from the top of Green Ridge, dusk on Thursday

… and when the burn is over and the rains come and wash out our roads, and the wild flowers bloom in orgeastic splendor, in celebration of lifes relentless renewal, the cycle will begin again…

more pictures below.

Share/Save/Bookmark

2 Comments

The sky is pressing broad and low over the oak green ridges to the East.
An ominous cloud glowers bruisey yellow, diffuse morning light.
Ash is falling like snow, gracefully, nonchalantly.
And the sounds of bird song and the big low drone of choppers drift through the smoke filled valleys.
Big Sur is burning and the hive is all a buzz, while light pours over the big limbs of the Madrones, heavy light like amber autumn honey. A hazy other world light through a tinted lens.
Fuck I love this place. Earth.

We’re all packed, nose out and ready to roll if the fire line on the North front approaches the top of the Canyon and the evacuation Advisory shifts to Mandatory. Got my passport, laptop, tea pot and flute. (Jessica has cat, dog, bellydance gear and photos). The rest can burn if needs be.

After a week of bone drying heat, the storm cells appeared out of nowhere and struck like the dark hand of God all across this Western edge. A preternatural act of nature, purging, cleansing, rebalancing in spite of human resistance to the inevitable. This is a fire ecology of course and while we suppress and cling to stuff and place and time - time, sagebrush and phytophthora build the fuel for the cleansing act.

The sheriff drove all the way to the scattered ends of our dirt roads yesterday morning to issue our Evacuation advisories, and neighbours and firefighting friends called to say, it’s time to take it seriously. An adrenalin and coffee fuelled day of packing and landscape clearance that should have taken a year, ended sitting on the roof with the sprinklers raining on, watching the fiery sun set over a rippled, fog cloaked ocean below, and smoking hills behind us - Atlanta (the dog) perplexed and Kali (the destroyer cat) curled in zen like repose, catflap locked, inside.

Whilst friends have already lost their homes a few mile South, the winds were favourable over night here, and today, life’s on hold while we await word from the front lines and my body hurts like it just did a year of heavy chainsaw wielding, tree climbing, brush clearing in a day.

Though the (4 T1) lines that give us web access appear to be bogged down with electric flurries of activity in our 1500 odd scattered Palo Colorado community, we remain hungry for live maps and news updates and the “neighbours” list has found new meaning.

Meanwhile, the house looks like a whirlwind just whipped through it, so I’m going to water my bamboo and bletilla, get back on the roof and toot my flute while the blue jays look askance and wait to see which way the wind blows.

All hail the fire fighters - true and honourable warriors.

Real info here: ventana wild fire news
Active heat detection googleearth map overlay here: http://activefiremaps.fs.fed.us/kml/conus.kmz


Local Photos
(Kodiak, Stan, Randall, Me, You?)

Share/Save/Bookmark

1 Comment

A Pattern Language is the seminal work of Christopher Alexander et al. describing a functional system to meet humanistic needs in the design of buildings, the urban environment and vital community.

Pattern number 58 “Carnival” is a prescient and perfect description of what has organically arisen as the ephemeral Black Rock City - otherwise known as Burning Man!

Burning Man I might add is the greatest expression of human creativity, play, ingenuity and celebration of life, love and art on the planet today (in my humble opinion). Definitely not for the faint, but the wild of heart and free of spirit (or maybe just eccentric and lunatic)

I give you

pattern 58

Carnival


. . . once in a while, in a subculture which is particularly open to it, a promenade may break into a wilder rhythm - and perhaps every promenade may have a touch of this.

Just as an individual person dreams fantastic happenings to release the inner forces which cannot be encompassed by ordinary events, so too a city needs its dreams.

Under normal circumstances, in today’s world the entertainments which are available are either healthy and harmless - going to the movies, watching TV, cycling, playing tennis, taking helicopter rides, going for walks, watching football - or downright sick and socially destructive - shooting heroin, driving recklessly, group violence.

But man has a great need for mad, subconscious processes to come into play, without unleashing them to such an extent that they become socially destructive. There is, in short, a need for socially sanctioned activities which are the social, outward equivalents of dreaming.

In primitive societies this kind of process was provided by the rites, witch doctors, shamans. In Western civilization during the last three or four hundred years, the closest available source of this outward acknowledgment of underground life has been the circus, fairs, and carnivals. In the middle ages, the market place itself had a good deal of this kind of atmosphere.

Today, on the whole, this kind of experience is gone. The circuses and the carnivals are drying up. But the need persists. In the Bay Area, the annual Renaissance Fair goes a little way to meet the need - but it is much too bland. We imagine something more along the following lines: street theater, clowns, mad games in the streets and squares and houses; during certain weeks, people may live in the carnival; simple food and shelter are free; day and night people mixing; actors who mingle with the crowd and involve you, willy nilly, in processes whose end cannot be foreseen; fighting -two men with bags on a slippery log, in front of hundreds; Fellini-clowns, death, crazy people, brought into mesh.

Remember the hunchbacked dwarf in Ship of Fools, the only reasonable person on the ship, who says “Everyone has a problem; but I have the good fortune to wear mine on my back, where everyone can see it.”

Therefore:

Set aside some part of the town as a carnival - mad side-shows, tournaments, acts, displays, competitions, dancing, music, street theater, clowns, transvestites, freak events, which allow people to reveal their madness; weave a wide pedestrian street through this area; run booths along the street, narrow alleys; at one end an outdoor theater; perhaps connect the theater stage directly to the carnival street, so the two spill into and feed one another.

********************

take a peak at some of my BM photos here!

Share/Save/Bookmark

1 Comment