essaysbysean.blogspot.com
These days, lots of males are
shaving their heads as bare as the ostriches you see on the farm. There’s
something horribly symbolic there: I mean the animals, not the people. I’ll get
back to them…
I still remember when we said
“Don’t trust anyone over thirty!” This was back when the “older generation,”
the “establishment,” really didn’t like long hair. The hair symbolized youth
solidarity, with all youth wanting to bring in a new improved world, one where
everybody would know words like Ecology and Environment and Love. Far out! Soon
the world would be groovy with alternative energy, we could almost touch it—it was just around the
corner! And if “the older generation” claimed they too had always wanted a
better world, then we just figured they were talking down to us. Call it a
generation gap.
I was amused when our high school
coach compromised. For team photographs, our coach said he merely wanted to be
able to see our earlobes. Some years passed. As an adult, I have a memory of
keeping my roommate awake by laughing aloud at a comic book I found in a “head
shop.” It was of The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers, a bunch of drug-using
longhaired freaky people. At the time my roommate and I both had short hair.
No, we weren’t science nerds: We were in barracks, within a city of longhaired
youth. Of course I liked my civilian peers—and I liked liberals too. What
didn’t I like? Those blasted longhaired hippies!
Looking back, and having read a
sociology paper, I can see the young hippies were taking time out from society
as a rite of passage—like doing a stint in the peace corps or the navy. Except
the sailors, “in the service,” were engaged in service to society, while the
hippies, to my eyes, were just useless parasites. On the one hand, I
hated hippies for rejecting my wholesome clean-cut values. On the other hand, I
hated them for being members of the upper middle class, that is to say: rich.
They had that certain inner confidence that comes of never having heard their
parents argue over the bills. Naturally these kids could take time out from
life: They had waiting for them, at a moment’s notice, money and a warm bedroom
and funds for college. It must be nice. I wouldn’t know.
Many of the scruffy young men would
go on to major in basket weaving or business, not something hard like science
or engineering. This was partly because hippies are lazy, partly from
rejecting the establishment, and partly from trying to take easy courses so
they wouldn’t flunk: Flunking out made them eligible for the draft. In time the hippies and the other rich boomers got degrees and business suits
and short hair. Like their elders, they too came to condone US imperialism, no
matter how much this infuriated the rest of the world. Forget Love… You know, sometimes
I don’t love my US civilian peers very much.
I still smile over a big picture I
remember from the Freak brothers comic. Instead of wasting city space, the
brothers had converted a big flattop roof into a lush garden with hammocks and,
get this, an environmental wind fan for electricity. No, not to keep from
wasting energy: The brothers with their hammocks were just too lazy to pay for
power. And besides, it was so cool! The fan was quaint, looking more like a
common elephant ear factory fan than a modern stir stick turbine. Since my
youth the science nerds have continued to research new turbine shapes.
As I said, not many hippies went
on to study science. More of them became business yuppies manipulating the
devil’s invention: compound interest. This morning I am gritting my teeth:
Couldn’t any of those affluent idealists ever stop and think about “compound
research?” Didn’t they ever reason that research knowledge grows not linearly
but geometrically? So that a constant trickle of research-dollars, steadily
growing ever since the 1960’s, would mean that by today all of our household
appliances could run off a little disposable battery kept under the kitchen
sink? And that by now any glamorous James Bond sports car could be fully
electric, not just a hybrid? That atomic electricity could, to use a phrase
from my youth, be “as safe as houses?” I guess not. A phrase from my mother’s
youth went, “I’ll tell the cock-eyed world!” Now I’ll tell anyone: I didn’t
like arrogant longhaired hippies then, and I don’t like arrogant ecological
baby boomers now.
But then again, thinking calmly…
the first time I ever saw a wind farm was in the desert, outside Los Angeles,
on a TV detective show, back in the early 1970’s. I breathed, “Wow.” The silent
spinning turbines looked just like the ones I see today, a couple hours south of
town. Back then there were solar panels too, in basic black. Again, just like
the ones I see today. What if, down the years, there has indeed been a steady
stream of research producing a state-of-the-art green energy … with only teensy
improvements left to discover? It beats me, I’m only wondering aloud. Keeping
calm… just like those bald executives at General Motors. I certainly
don’t expect to see any excited GM executives chanting slogans like:
“Capitalists, unite to fight!
Cheap green energy, is your right!
It’s just a-round the cor-ner!”
…Poor GM; it takes so many ergs to smelt a car.
The good news is I see various
government jurisdictions, both here and abroad, (Germany) putting a little
effort into a little green alternative energy. Clearly, the effort is not as
coordinated as, say, the D-Day invasion, the Manhattan project or the Apollo
program. I sense no urgency, no deadlines and no
collaboration-with-accountability. Still, at least there is a little effort.
Especially now, after the Wall Street melt down—I guess the stimulus money has
to go somewhere. Yet… what if the effort’s all wasted? What if the laws of
nature will not be mocked? Maybe extracting clean energy from Mother Gaia is
like extracting gold from seawater: Doable, yes, but forever too costly. The
latest word on the street is that extracting clean helium, to run
my car, would put out even more carbon dioxide than my car would have spewed using
traditional petroleum.
Some folks keep saying a brave new
energy industry is just around the corner. Really? Maybe we are just as
mistaken now as we were back in the 1960’s. Perhaps various governments have their
head in the sand, like ostriches, in fearful reaction from aggressive green eco hype.
Ostriches… Come to think of it,
here in North America, I’ve seen ostriches. Not in a zoo, in a pasture, along the main Highway West of town. Thanks
to the government, such farms came out of nowhere, slowly increasing in number.
But no more. All the time the farms had been spreading, it turned out, “the fix
was in. ” It was only a glorified government pyramid scheme, with older farmers selling birds to newer farmers, dependent on government
dollars. No sustainable brave new ostrich industry is just around the
corner. It never was.
Sean Crawford
In the foothills of the Rockies
June 2012
~Footnote: I don't write detailed stuff myself, so here's a link to a guy who writes lots about eco-energy
~Footnote: I don't write detailed stuff myself, so here's a link to a guy who writes lots about eco-energy
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