EcoPunk #68

    Summer is finally here and with it, the dark clouds of change. There are those who think of summer as a time of relaxation and stability, of stasis and tranquility. A season when time seems to stand still and life slows to an almost immeasurable pace. It's amazing what too many years in public schools can do to the fragile humyn mind.
    Out here in my neck of the woods, summer is a War between the forces of change and the forces striving with every inch of their being to maintain or enhance the status quo. It is in summer when the relentless blows of the sun beat down, scorching plant and river alike. The grasses abandon their photosynthetic shades of Spring green for the ghost brown shells of summer. The trees slow their growth cycles to barely discernible rings within rings and the streams, lacking their snowmelt feedbags, begin to wither and die.
    But as with any other change, there are those that benefit from the chaos and flux. It is during the summer that the pine engraver beetles leave their winter haunts in downed (and hence sapless) trees and set off in search of fresh cambial zones to colonize and consume. It is during the summer that the opportunistic plants of privilege, being those exotic invaders from Europe and Asia, begin to overpower the defenseless native plants who were plenty content with the niches 70 million years of evolution gave them, at least until the überplanten showed up. And it is during the summer that the reserved, but omnipotent forces of Fire resurrect themselves from lightening strike and slash pile. The Fire, hungry from years of suppression, repression and oppression at the hands of single minded timber preservationists from that pesky race of pale skinned bipeds, thirsts desperately to reclaim the territory given it by the same evolutionary fads who brought us Douglas Firs and Bybee-tatouche Complex Loam soils. With every storm and every stray cigarette butt and every piece of leftover logging slash and stray breeze, the grand sovereign Fire threatens to reclaim its historical subjects. Deep in its flickering eyes, it seeks to engulf Ashland and Missoula, Bend and Spokane. It seeks to annihilate the parasitic firs who have sprouted in land once known as Oak Savannah woodland just as it seeks to annihilate the animal pests who linger in its midst and affect the precarious balances of life Nature spent so many thousands of Centuries developing.
    And outside the Lands of Fire, the story is the same. On the Eastern Seaboard, the swirling meteorological circle-pits long to spin their way onto shore and deliver a healthy dose of class justice to the rich who make their homes upon fragile foundations of sand in criminally developed gulags with names like Palm Beach, Ft. Lauderdale and Hilton Head. In the steamy nations to the South, the summer brings the rainy season full of biting bugs, erosion and sickness. Summer is the season of catharsis and death, of cleanliness and resurrection; Nature's own laxative by force.
    And for us, as humans dwelling on the back of Earth, these seasons ought be times of intense change for us, a time when we can step back from our collective insanity and say, "This Fuqua must meet fire or deluge or winds like knives. No longer can we, the slave populations of North America, sit back and endure the sickness any longer. Change must come."
    Just as Fire will one day sweep through my bioregion, incinerating cow and bark beetle, root rot fungus and ORVer alike, just as Hurricanes will sweep out of the Atlantic and rearrange the Feng Shui of entire stretches of coastline, just as Rains will destroy roads and bridges and fields, we can wreck havoc upon the forces who infect our every motion and every thought. As a culture, as a people, as a misplaced race, we are sick to the core with ailments so advanced we usually don't even notice as they consume us from the inside out. Now is the time for our mansions of hurtful isms to come tumbling down in a harsh sea of self-analysis and self-criticism. Now is the Season to unleash our Fire upon the nasty forces inhabiting our friends' hearts and minds, laying the negative thoughts and hateful emotions out to burn and allowing the long forgotten seeds of health and healing to regerminate from too long a hibernation. The long days and short nights of the summer solstice season are the perfect moments for surging, rushing, exploding blasts of Purity to come flailing downstream, uprooting, overturning and destroying the parts of ourselves that we don't like and that are helping bind us to this grand Nation of alienation and despair.
    Now, as the sun is high and its light bright, is the perfect time to sit down with our friends and lovers and communities and lay out everything we hate and loathe and despise and that makes us feel sick and shitty and worthless and hurts us and makes us sad. The days are long enough to get the exact details, names, faces and instances out into the open for a more efficient immolation. With the heat and passion and impending destruction of Summer, there is no time for holding back or cowering behind rhetoric. Now is the time to call it as we feel it and take a close look at the things that make we as humyns, we as a species, sick and dysfunctional. It won't be easy or anything short of agonizingly painful. But like a good, heaven and earth ordained forest fire, from this pain will sprout a new generation of health, free of the lingering pests brought on by our own internalized fears and cowardices. It sounds new age and woo woo, but until we get healthy in our own heads and our own hearts, we can have no honest hope of ever sending our "healthy ideas" outwards. So long as anarchist punks (insert your own ideology here) are just as fucked up and dysfunctional sexist, racist, hatefilled, homophobes who hurt for fun and profit as our parents, our ideas are worse than useless; they are perpetuations of the very humyn culture we claim to hate.
    And I for one think my twenty some years have been more than enough time as a fucked up emotional leper. It is time for some raging fires to burn through the overstocked stands of bullshit I have absorbed and sprouted and grown over the years. It is time for floods to come rushing through my head and heart, clearing the hate and the anger and the fear and the sadness. It is time for the winds of honesty to howl themselves through myself and all my relations in a remorseless purge of all that is false, all that is sick and all that is hurtful in my connections to other people. Like the Forest around me, I am tired of being sick and dysfunctional. I am exhausted from working so hard at keeping artificial lines of emotional and spiritual suppression intact within myself and in my interactions with other people. The time for being scared and reserved and shy is over. It's summer and things are ready to burn; it's just a matter of letting it happen.

to firestorms of love, wisdom and peace in all our lives

-mike antipathy
pob 11703 , eugene, oregon 97440
antipathy@morelos.com • 541.821.6248

As we enjoy the Season, let us not forget our brothers and sisters who can't be with us. To Free and Karen and Rob and Dan and Chris and Harold and everyone else, we love you and think about you often.