Drink Up, Dreamers - Part 2

We were speaking of stories. Todd needed an example. I needed inspiration. And Peter Gabriel was singing.

All the strange things
They come and go, as early warnings

I remembered a recent visit with my folks. “My parents have a piece of land, Todd,” I typed, “that they have my cousin farm for them for a share of the profits. A couple of weeks ago, they told me that they made twice as much this last year as in previous years. Why is this? It seems that ethanol producers are buying up all of the corn they can, and that, of course, is driving prices up.”

Todd pulled up a sticky, but didn’t write anything on it. As if to let me know that he was listening intently, but not wanting to interrupt.

“Now, there are a whole bunch of people in this country who would look at this and call it a good thing. Ethanol. We can drive our cars and trucks with the stuff. It’ll decrease our reliance on foreign oil imports. It’s a renewable resource. It uses current energy in the form of sunlight. It can be made and used locally. It provides jobs, and puts more money into the hands of farmers. Lots of reasons.”

“Problem is, ethanol, or any biofuel, probably, scaled up to the level of this culture, is a complete disaster. It’s one thing for Farmer John to turn some of his corn into ethanol for his farm truck, or some of his soybean oil into biodiesel, to run his tractor. Such local and small-scale actions may prove very helpful during the Powerdown, as population and culture contract to fit the reality of life on this planet. But scaled up in an effort to keep this present madness going, it will simply make things way worse. I’ll give you some links and you can check that out on your own. Culture Change has just posted Alice Friedemann’s excellent analysis of this scaling up problem called Peak Soil. John Michael Greer’s essay, Faustus and the Monkey Trap, is so good I feel like I should just shut down my blog and link to his.”

so I was asking you about stories

“I’m getting there, dude. I can’t say everything at once.”

sorry

“So what stories underlie the ramping up of ethanol production? That we should have fuels for our cars and trucks. That we’ll need transport to keep our lives going, to keep this economy going. That we’ll need these fuels at a reasonable price. That we can’t continue to rely on imported fuels.”

“What stories underlie those stories? That our lifestyle is good and right. That our economy is good and right. That car culture is good and right. That we can solve our fuel situation through technology.”

“What stories underlie those stories? That growth is good. That the world was made for us to use and exploit. That we are in control. That things are fine, and will keep on being fine forever. That we are entitled to have whatever we think we want. That there are no limits. That humans are a special creation, and reside near the top of a Great Chain of Being.”

Todd stopped me easily enough. He put the word stop! on a sticky. He even managed the exclamation mark. I became aware of the music. The song was playing over and over. It had come back around to the chorus.

Lord, here comes the flood
We’ll say goodbye to flesh and blood

Todd posted another sticky: I dont know how to think about this I cant stay in focus these stories theyre so deep so real so huge how can we I mean how do you think we can I hear what youre saying and all I hear you when you say these stories I say to myself yep thats what we think yep thats how we live but I hadnt ever thought about it before and of course of course but theres no way out now theres no way I dont get it its like were trapped in these stories like we cant do the right thing now because we dont have the right stories

“Exactly. And that’s why people move straight from denial to despair. Al Gore doesn’t seem to understand that transition, but I think I do. Denial and despair are both natural reactions to the reality of the situation. At some deep level, people sense how dire the predicament is, not just at the level of environment or resources or politics or war, but also at the level of story and myth and culture. I mean… how do you shift an entire culture in the time frame we appear to be working with? The task before us is far greater than the development of alternative fuels.”

its huge its huge of course people go into denial thats what I did I heard about the ozone hole I heard about global warming I heard about all those animals going extinct I heard about the pollution but I couldnt let it in I had my life I had plans I had plans I was going to start my own business

“And then you inhaled that pizza roll and the chicken took you on a tour of your own life.”

Todd pasted a bunch of blank stickies in a flash, then stopped. As if he’d meant to say something huge, then thought better of it. The stickies disappeared, save for one blue one. Sadness. After a full minute, one word appeared: yeah

“That’s how it works, Todd,” I wrote. “Eventually, evidence and events conspire to knock some people out of their denial. Then they see, consciously, that same dire predicament they sensed before, and they are forced to confront their fear, their anger, their grief, and their despair, all of which arise from a recognition of how huge and insoluble the world situation really is inside of this present paradigm. How deep the stories go. How great the work truly is.”

I stopped. The song had come around again.

Stranded starfish have no place to hide
Still waiting for the swollen Easter tide
There’s no point in direction
We cannot even choose a side

I knew I was pushing on some deeply held beliefs. I knew that my words might be hard for Todd. But I also knew that he has a deep core strength that could take my pushing.

A sticky appeared: the chicken told me that Im supposed to help you but all I hear from you is that theres nothing to do so I dont know what Im doing here

“Just stay with me, Todd,” I typed. “It’ll all get more clear as we go along. I’m not advocating that we do nothing. I’m suggesting that we do something different.”

I sat back and rolled my tired shoulders, thinking what to say next.

And Peter Gabriel continued to sing.

When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You’re a thousand minds, within a flash
Don’t be afraid to cry at what you see
The actor’s gone, there’s only you and me
And if we break before the dawn they’ll use up what we used to be