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Dreams are a lot like the livejournal draft saving function. You have them, you do nothing and forget about them, and then later you are reminded by a little box that says "Restore from Draft?" You click yes, intrigued to see what your brain has produced when you were not paying attention. And you are met by a vacant text box, because you deleted it all before closing the window.
It's not that there is a wall or a barrier there. It's that there is nothing at all. In fact, there may never have been anything at all. Of course in the grand scheme of things (POLS375, ECON302, and RELI205H) things that don't get written down do not actually matter. They do not harm nor help the world. Somewhere in the last few weeks, I've lost all of my faith in writing and words. After all, words do not seem to heal anything when an ecosystem is lost because the company which clear cut the forest decided to replant for the sake of honor's appearance, and the result was the Hundred Acre Monoculture, which simply can't harbor anything as complex as an ecology of bears, piglets, rabbits, tiggers, and kangaroos.
While I find Global Environment Politics incredibly fascinating, it sometimes throws me into a state of numb despair. Guys, things are a LOT worse than you think they are. And books about it don't help. As many readers they inform, they lose because of people disagreeing. Counterarguments, which may or may not be less valid. And that makes me angry, because so what if you're quibbling over exactly how much damage is being done and by whom. The difference is, at most, the difference between very very bad and almost very very bad, but you'd let it convince you that all is under control.
What I wouldn't do for a hive mind. If all people shared a single interest and awareness, conservation would be much more efficient.
And fiction. Pathos or logos? Is it even worth considering? "The Lorax" converted me, but I'm not sure how much of that amounted to practical change. So maybe the answer is simply to throw oneself headlong into hedonistic wastefulness, because the greatest amount of effort expended on one person's part to lessen the burden on the environment is next to nothing at all. There are simply too many people. The numbers win.
It's very exhausting.
It's not that there is a wall or a barrier there. It's that there is nothing at all. In fact, there may never have been anything at all. Of course in the grand scheme of things (POLS375, ECON302, and RELI205H) things that don't get written down do not actually matter. They do not harm nor help the world. Somewhere in the last few weeks, I've lost all of my faith in writing and words. After all, words do not seem to heal anything when an ecosystem is lost because the company which clear cut the forest decided to replant for the sake of honor's appearance, and the result was the Hundred Acre Monoculture, which simply can't harbor anything as complex as an ecology of bears, piglets, rabbits, tiggers, and kangaroos.
While I find Global Environment Politics incredibly fascinating, it sometimes throws me into a state of numb despair. Guys, things are a LOT worse than you think they are. And books about it don't help. As many readers they inform, they lose because of people disagreeing. Counterarguments, which may or may not be less valid. And that makes me angry, because so what if you're quibbling over exactly how much damage is being done and by whom. The difference is, at most, the difference between very very bad and almost very very bad, but you'd let it convince you that all is under control.
What I wouldn't do for a hive mind. If all people shared a single interest and awareness, conservation would be much more efficient.
And fiction. Pathos or logos? Is it even worth considering? "The Lorax" converted me, but I'm not sure how much of that amounted to practical change. So maybe the answer is simply to throw oneself headlong into hedonistic wastefulness, because the greatest amount of effort expended on one person's part to lessen the burden on the environment is next to nothing at all. There are simply too many people. The numbers win.
It's very exhausting.