The last three lines from a poem by Emily Dickinson are the epigraph of Not Even Light. Like you, I feel the winds rising. Our benighted species is drifting away from the shores of rationality and into a storm surge of madness. I don't know exactly what to do anymore other than to take what … Continue reading There came a wind like a bugle
"Bollocks": exaggerated truth or blatant lies; unfathomable rubbish (from the Urban Dictionary) Travis, the young narrator of Not Even Light, begins his tale with a look back. It puzzles me whenever I run across someone who doesn't know anything about the Long Last Days, but it probably shouldn't. Stories from the times that saw the … Continue reading Climate summit? Bollocks!
The reality show our species produces and acts in is appalling and discouraging. We could be doing so much better for ourselves and our planet, but we keep on mining those veins of stupidity and self-destructiveness that never seem to run out. Ödön von Horváth said, "Nichts gibt so sehr das Gefühl der Unendlichkeit als … Continue reading Stupidity
I'd like to recommend an article in the NewStatesman about the Dark Mountain Project. Like so many others in the so-called "First World," I've gotten used to burying my head in the sand with respect to where we're all (and I mean all) headed and why we're headed there because of "the stories that our … Continue reading Dark Mountain Project