sleepin’ wit da enemy

About three years ago, I was speaking at the Whole Earth Festival at UC Davis. I was the warm up act for Julia Butterfly Hill but no one was there yet because the stage off to the side. Actually there were a few people, most of whom appeared to be taking a rest from the beating sun. Fewer than 15 people were either lounging on haystacks or sitting on hay spread over ground. Nevertheless, I was juiced; my first public speech - on Mothers Day, feeling especially honored to have my then wife and my 18 month old tree hugger in the audience. Melia’s birth had been the tipping point for me to get active in working for a sustainable future. That day, I started with a proverb which is attributed to a number of indigenous peoples that resonated strongly within me:

We don’t inherit the planet from our parents; we borrow it from our children
~ Common Indigenous Proverb

I told my heat exhausted, half indifferent audience that my goal is to pay this debt fully to Melia and her contemporaries. I noted that my ability to do so was, however, hampered by what I did inherit from my parents – the malignant, inequitable, deceptive unidimensional system that is spreading like a virus across the globe, ravaging Mother Earth and communities wherever it gains a toehold. Yeah, I was pretty hardcore with it. Anyway, I followed with the three points I hoped my audience would take away from the talk.

1. Although it may not be apparent, biosphere destruction is a life threatening problem
2. The situation is urgent because of the coming energy crisis
3. There is hope but we are going to have to begin working on solutions now – collectively

Recognizing that people absorb things in different ways, I started out with the poem below and ended with a short talk which I will get into a bit in Part II.

Peak is Nigh
the oil as usual crew
of special interests
blue blood bankers and
legislative mercenaries
has paved this road
ever more traveled
desperately by many
obliviously by others and
luxuriously by the few
the chosen ones
of the lord almighty dolla
the road is driven
yet existence
does not even imply
much less presage
desirable destination

accustomed to auto-pilot
and quick turns in the conversation
i hesitate to broach the subject
might we stop and reassess our position
if not ask for directions
after all we’re headed
for a global economic collision
when fossil fuel demand permanently
overtakes and surpasses supply
might there be a different route
perhaps a better way
to be

numbed to movement
we barrel along wistfully
tank half full
full throttle
in a haze of wishful thoughts
about places to see
and consumers to be
ignoring all the signs
indicating
we are headed the wrong way
on not-a-through street

are we but crash test dummies
mimicking sentient beings
about to hit the wall
failing an evolutionary experiment
in consciousness and wisdom
will we brace for impact
and watch wasteful lives
flash before our eyes
or will we relax
our adherence to
the script proselytized
by the corporate oligarchy
and oil-a-garchies
and change our course early enough
to prevent innocents from
becoming collateral road-kill

these bitter streets
are paved with subsides
federal funnels of funds
for imperial oil odysseys
the american way
of living dangerously
and mono-thoughtfully
is it not our american way
to do just about anything
in a car
talk eat drink smoke
sex in the backseat
apply makeup squinting in mini mirrors
we eat and bank at drive thrus
we discarded drive-ins
for personal screens
displaying distractions
our sound systems
shake neighborhoods
essentially
our lives revolve around tires

yet cars are just a fraction
of our failings
the amount of energy
consumed by our fossil indulgence
is hardly imaginable
as much as if
each american had twenty slaves
working night and day
to power their lives
sounds familiar

beyond the mirage
advocated by science on the take
prophesized by macroeconomic optimists
imagined by free market evangelists
and projected by media manipulating oligopolies
beyond this complacent and compliant
illusory way of being
only prescient eyes foresee
a collision
on the horizon
only courageous minds
entertain the possibilities

the fossil fuel subsidy
is half empty
the peak is nigh
admire the view
as we are not long for this summit
things are about to be a changing
and its all down
the bell curve from here

this just in
from our correspondents in courage
the pragmatists and the realists agree
the oil jones is worse
than cold turkey
at a vegan thanksgiving

we are strung out on fossil fuels
and when production wanes
you may find yourself
unable to afford your commute
and you may find yourself
far from public transportation
and without access to local goods
and you may find yourself
rationing food and fresh water
and you may ask yourself
how do I work this
this is not my lovely life
how did I get here
remember this moment

© 2003-2007, David Room

Pop Quiz: what song was the ending of the poem based on?