Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Destroying the National Parks - New York Times

Destroying the National Parks - New York Times: "August 29, 2005

Destroying the National Parks

"Recently, a secret draft revision of the national park system's basic management policy document has been circulating within the Interior Department. It was prepared, without consultation within the National Park Service, by Paul Hoffman, a deputy assistant secretary at Interior who once ran the Chamber of Commerce in Cody, Wyo., was a Congressional aide to Dick Cheney and has no park service experience."

So it seems that the Cheney crowd has decided, for us, that our national parks are to be places for the elite few to play with their snowmachines, ATVs and four-wheelers, and not a place where nature is allowed to live on its own terms, albeit for the viewing pleasure of the travelling human population.

It's time to put a stop to this arrogance. It's time to let the inmates in Washington, DC know, in no uncertain terms, that we do not give them permission to destroy our national treasures for private gain and public entertainment.

The Bush crew is desparate to shore up a failing economy, with wars, propoganda, restructuring Social Security and propping up failing industrial capitalist corporations. The fatal inherent instability of our growth at any cost economy has come to the fore once again, as it did in the 1880s, the 1920s, the 1930s, the 1970s and now into the 21st Centuy.

Anything that can't go on forever, won't.

Time to give it a bit of a push. Boycotts, non-cooperation, dissent, outright opposition... all will help ease the old out of the picture and welcome the new, whatever economies they may be.

Do something for your neighbors and the Universe... boycott corporate America... for ever!


Monday, August 29, 2005

On Your Feet!

The word's getting around that "environmentalism is dead." That may be so, and if it is, it's a good thing.

The environmentalism of the 21st Century, in recent reckoning, is a pretty wimpy affair, dominated by collaboration, compromise and cohabitation amongst developers and what once passed for environmental activist groups. The Sierra Club, once the proud progeny of John Muir, now skulks about the dark and dingy halls of Washington, DC, that great swamp on the shores of the Potomac. Decisions are made in a tall building in downtown San Francisco that affect life in the wild thousands of miles away. One slight poppenjay holds the position of Official Petty Dictator, bandying about at Board meetings with a stentorian voice that brushes aside all opposition, that substitutes shrillness for intelligence, volume for relevance, whose khaki pants bulge with corporate hands thrust firmly into their many pockets.

It's time to return to our forebears, those hairy men who lived in the wild, then much more abundant and prolific, and wrote about it for modern hairy folks to read and ponder: John Muir, Henry David Thoreau, Walt Whitman and, of course, and most importantly, Edward Abbey. Today's modern, cell phone, iPod, GPS, lap-top computerized faux environmentalists, clad in the latest hiking industry shoes, festooned in the latest fashionable outdoorsperson attire, possess little in the way of wild intellectual acumen to compare with these Masters, now long gone to their personal visions of Valhala.

Environmentalism has been collaborated and compromised away, even unto Earth First!, whose motto once proudly proclaimed "No FUCKING Compromise in Defense of the Earth!" and which now merely whispers of tree sits and gatherings in semi-remote forest glens (with covenient portable toilets), accessible by automobile and professional, credentialed journalists.

What we need is fewer environmentalists and more enviromeddlers, those willing to eschew the trappings from the Sierra Magazine, willing to be uncomfortable for a fortnight, to stand on their hind feet and actually walk on the earth, rather than sitting on their butts propelled by dead dinosaurs. We need monkeywrenchers, sabateurs (sabot, the wooden shoe thrust into the bowels of the machine), tree spikers, midnight raiders and, yes, I'll say it , ecoterrorists. It's time to strike terror into the hearts of the three-piece suiters smoking their illegal Havana cigars in high penthouse board rooms. You better believe it, we're after your billfolds! (We'll deal with your sons and daughters later)

On your feets, environmeddlers! You have nothing to save but the wilderness. You have nothing to lose but the spare tire around your ample belly. Let's put the Earth First! slogan back into business, with four-part harmony and feeling this time!

Long Live the Weeds and the Wilderness

Leona Gulch
Pacific Plate