Holier than thou

Wow. I've just been bitched out by some greenie who thinks my urban gardening, vermicomposting, waiting-for-the-bus ways put me in the same category with people who super-commute from the burbs in their SUVs. Why? Because I dared -- DARED! -- to suggest that bicyclists should ride sober and follow the rules of the road.

Wow. And I thought I was judgemental!

UPDATE: Our greenie from Canada came back, and -- surprise! -- we had more in common than we thought. Welcome, Justin!

The Five Second Prayer

I've been giving a lot of thought to this article, that Ducks pointed me towards earlier (thanks!). The summary:

An MIT class has estimated the carbon emissions of Americans in a wide variety of lifestyles -- from the homeless to multimillionaires, from Buddhist monks to soccer moms -- and compared them to those of other nations. The somewhat disquieting bottom line is that in the United States, even the people with the lowest usage of energy are still producing, on average, more than double the global per-capita average.

This is because they are assuming that even the homeless are responsible for the CO2 produced by their share of streetlights, police services, transportation infrastructure, and other "public goods." That's not a bad way to calculate things. I do believe if we want to make a serious effort to curb our impact on the environment, then we have to make that decision as a society for it to have any real results. This study just confirms that, in my mind -- our society is wasteful on a truly grand scale.

Now, this begs the question, of course: Sam, aren't you just another damn eco-zombie, so concerned with your stupid worms and recycling and taking the CTA when all those things don't make any difference? Why not just eat, drink and be merry until the government taxes the hell out of gas, hamburgers, and the American way? Or until we destroy our planet (or at least our place in it) because we can't reach a consensus about how to curb ourselves?

But there is something to all this that goes beyond quantitative measures of CO2 (although yes, I care about that too). For me, this is not just about footprints and carbon sinks. When I sort paper or dig through dark, rich compost mulch or try to find ways to use a little less plastic, I feel connected to something larger than myself. Something big and eternal and maybe a little scary. Something one can't truly escape and can't fully confront.

This is prayer.

Prayer, for many, is quiet and powerful. They can sit silently, quietly thinking, communing with higher powers. For them, prayer is done with hands clasped, hands raised, quietly or singing, standing or sitting, alone or in church.

I have occasionally felt something in those contexts, but my daily prayers are very different. Often less than five seconds, these are silent -- not just unvoiced, but unarticulated. Certainly they would go unrecognized for what they are. This is not about words, but about action. Ritual action, perhaps (Victor Turner, anyone?).

I describe myself as a deist (no, I don't agree with everything or everyone associated with that philosophy, but isn't that normal for any religious community?). I believe seriously in the mystery of Creation as something ever-changing, ever evolving. Considering the diversity on this planet -- how many beetles? what is living on the bottom of the ocean? -- let alone other planets in the universe, I cannot believe God is confined by gender, language, culture -- or humanity. Or that It cares more about humans than about mosquitoes, or bacteria, or octopuses. One day Creation will not include me, or you, or humans at all. I don't buy that we are the end-product of Creation, the masterpiece of the universe, God's only children.

I also don't believe that God (or whatever you want to call it) explains Itself primarily in books or words. I don't have a problem with other religions, mind you (not even the one I left). We don't all have the same hobbies, the same passions; I can't see any evidence that God wants us all to join the same religion. But God did create a "text," if you will. It is all around us -- not confined the page -- even if our experience of it is akin to the blind men and the elephant.

If God doesn't speak to us in words alone, then why do we think that our prayers need to be limited to that genre? My prayers are actions. Like turning off the lights. Like turning off my computer power cord. Like composting. Like planting native plants that feed butterflies. Little actions premised on the idea that little things matter, and maybe, eventually, can lead to bigger things.

Flip the switch. Amen.

Designated Bicyclist

Hey greenies, haven't you ever heard that you shouldn't drink and bike?! What the hell kind of tagline is this? As if we didn't have enough trouble with crazy-ass bicyclists who think the rules of the road don't apply to them.

Rise of the Eco-Zombies: Definitions

Don Gusano has already noted the ecological benefits of zombification, not to mention the one-upmanship of certain sectors of the U.S. environmentalist movement. I want to take his analysis one step further: who/what are Eco-Zombies?

Zombies -- for those of you who don't know -- emerged as a concept in the Caribbean (or possibly in Africa) through the interactions between African religious beliefs brought to the New World, and the grinding misery caused by world demand for cash crops such as sugar. In this context, zombies were people who thought themselves to be dead and could be thus tricked into working in agroindustrial processes such as cutting sugar cane. They didn't need to be shot in the head: they could be awoken.

This connection between zombies and the worst aspects of capitalism has carried over into North Atlantic movie fascination with the creature. From Dawn of the Dead's mall consumerism to Sean of the Dead's routinized purchasing, the living and their zombie counterparts are linked through the processes of production and consumption. Most of these movies explore not the difference between the living and the dead, but the question of how much the living are already like the dead.

Enter the Eco-Zombie.

Many self-described environmentalists in the U.S. (at least) don't seem to realize that by being green(er) they have not escaped from capitalist materialism. Instead, they have simply become another niche market. Excessive consumption is inherently an environmental problem, but the eco-zombie thinks that if something is marked "Green" (or "Natural" or whatever) then buying it will be better than not buying it. In other words, they believe that consumption itself can solve environmental problems.

Many businesses are all too happy to agree as they sell recycled-this and fair-trade-that for prices that most can't afford. Environmentalism becomes another statement of wealth, something that only the upper classes can afford to flaunt. Better to buy green than not -- but do we really need so much stuff?! It seems to me that excessive buying is itself part of the problem.

There are real environmentalists out there, don't get me wrong. Even with my composting, low-flow shower heads, and semi-successful attempts at native gardening, I don't hold a candle to them. They've taught me about local invasive species and introduced me to my wonderful worm companions. No doubt they buy recycled products and shop at local farmers' markets, but they are not trying to make "statements" with consumer goods.

For Eco-zombies, on the other hand, it is not really about the environment. It is a kind of individualistic greenwashing, an attempt to buy one's way into a movement that actually requires an investment of time rather than money. Eco-zombies don't realize that the problem is not just what you buy, but how much. And they are the true market for businesses that sell green -- or "greeeeeen" -- products.

Now, if you'll excuse me... I have some shopping to do...

Piece Pizzeria in Wicker Park: Greenwashing for St. Patrick's

The other day I was walking home from the CTA station in Wicker Park and saw this banner outside of Piece, a local pizzeria and brewery on North Avenue just east of Damen:


Now, this sounds like a catchy, cute idea, right? Green, like the Irish, like the environmental movement? Piece? Peace? Greenpeace? Get it?

Yeah.

The problem is that this restaurant is such an obvious environmental nightmare that I won't even eat there anymore. Why? Because all summer long, they blast their air-conditioning while leaving two large windows open so their clients can commune with the busy street outside.

Now, I don't object to outdoor seating, but Piece doesn't have any of that. Walking past in the summer -- as I do to commute across the city by train and bus -- I am reminded by blasts of unseasonally frigid air that my efforts to reduce my own environmental impact (by not driving to work) are completely wiped out by the selfishness of this establishment and their clients.

Here's a recent (early Spring) photo -- the two large windows are closed now, but it will give you a sense of their size. While the government is trying to get the rest of us to seal small leaks in our windows and ducts to improve energy efficiency, these guys flaunt the fact that they don't give a flying f***.


Now, Don Gusano has pointed out that perhaps I should be more charitable. Perhaps they've had a change of heart and realized the errors of their ways. To that end, I propose a betting pool on when they open their windows again for the summer. Don Gusano, if you bet "No, they'll leave them closed this year" you will lose.

Now, I'm as sympathetic to guys who want to throw rotten butter at Japanese whalers as the next greenie. But come on, people. If the owners of Piece really gave a s*** about the whales, or anything else in the ocean, they would consider their restaurant's daily practices. Rising ocean temperatures caused by the indiscriminate use of fossil fuels affects the entire ecosystem that whales depend on. It also affects agriculture, and therefore all of us too. Rising wheat and corn prices aren't as dramatic as sea battles, but they will have far more impact in the long run -- especially on those people who couldn't afford to eat at Piece in the first place.

Instead, Piece's owners and/or staff (who apparently also have a rep for being rude) and their eco-zombie patrons plan to assuage their guilt by holding one cleverly named fund-raiser for an organization with a name they can't even spell.


Usually I am the very last person to criticize a spelling error. But "Grenpeace"? That sounds like a parody site just waiting to happen. And clearly, it should be short for "Grendle-peace," an international organization dedicated to improving relations between humans and large scary monsters that might eat them. Now, that's a cause I could get behind.

Do you want to do something really green for St. Patrick's? Boycott Piece.

Eco-Zombies

When you think about it, zombies are very eco-friendly. They don't drive gas-guzzlers. They don't clear-cut rainforest for hamburgers. They don't drink bottled water. True, they eat brains, which require people who do do all those things. But what are zombies going to do if they can't eat the living? Die of hunger? Plus, zombies are biodegradable.

I think that instead of turning your lights out for a single hour, true environmentalists should be looking for ways to turn into zombies.

Which, of course, is the biggest problem with environmentalism. Conservation is good, right? But it's also open-ended. One can always conserve more. The person who turns off their lights when not in use can be upstaged by the one who installs CF lightbulbs, who in turn can be upstaged by the person who lives in a cage and clubs things in the dark. Now, I'm as much a fan of environmentalism as the next guy, but you can't deny there is a competitive wing of environmentalists that makes people feel bad about taking small steps. But to have eco-conservation succeed on a significant scale, everybody (mostly) has to be willing to do it.

Unless it is something that is transmitted with 100% virulence by a single bite...

Lights out for Zombies! March 29

Join the movement to turn your lights out for an hour on March 29 at 8pm. Because zombies hate light. Give them real nighttime darkness to shamble through, none of that urban light-pollution crap.

Save the zombies, save the planet.

Seriously, when was the last time you saw a star -- let alone more stars than you can count? Living here in a paved, over-lit urban wasteland, we've lost the brilliance of the nighttime sky, scattered with light and pinpoints of mystery. If you don't care about the environment, think about it this way -- maybe, for one hour, you'll get to see the Milky Way. Is it still up there, you know.