Once again, it's Earth Day. Here at UTM, Project Recycle
has hosted an aluminum-recycling competition through the month of
April; the winning dorm will get coupons good for about a half-dozen
local businesses (we went for more, but those were the only ones who
chose to participate).
You know, though, it's a shame we have to bribe people to get
them to recycle. You have to offer people money or something to get
them to do the right thing. It gets done, true, but it shouldn't have
to be that way.
I'm reminded of what George Carlin once said about the whole
environmental movement (and I can applaud this, because I'm part of
it) -- when we tell people it's about saving the planet, that's
bullshit. What would really get people involved is tell it like it is
-- it's about saving our own asses.
Mother Earth got along just fine for millions of years before we
came along, and she'd do just as well -- better, actually -- if we
were to all become fertilizer and stop dumping shit in the rivers and
streams.
"Save your ass -- recycle." That would be a very accurate
slogan.
So many people take our planet for granted. Or, even worse, they
heckle and make light of people who do give a damn about it.
Remember James Watts? He was Secretary of the Interior for Ronald
Reagan. He's the guy who came up with the bright idea to allow
strip-mining on Federal lands. There was this speech he made, in a
pretty backwater fundamentalist area of the country, where when asked
about the ecological damage of this strip mining, he basically said,
"Aw, shucks, that ain't none of our concern. We all know The Rapture
will be coming by the turn of the century, and anyone who's left to
deal with the consequences after all of us are gone -- well, they're
sinners, so they deserve whatever they get."
Now, the constitutionality of this religion-based policy aside,
that's just plain evil, playing it off that way. But it was for money
(so, in typical Republican fashion, morality was cast aside).
Thing is, it's like the old Sioux proverb says, you can't eat
that money.
A lot of our religious institutions do a disservice to the
planet, and to humanity, by denying that we're a part of nature. They
claim we're a special case, that we're above everything. This is not
our real life, or so they say; this is but a prelude to something
higher.
And, when you look at it that way, I guess you do lose a feeling
of attachment, of responsibility.
But.
Jesus has been coming for two thousand years. Now he might really
be gearing up for some grand reappearance, but what if it's not for
another two thousand years? Then we'll have a lot of explaining to do
to our kids and grandkids and to the person who left us to take care
of this planet when it all wraps up at the end.
The oldest religion was the religion of nature. And none have
topped it in wisdom or eloquence. Eat, sleep, protect the tribe, find
joy where you can; don't do anything that could lead you to getting
hurt, unless it's absolutely necessary for the good of the pack that
you do so. Raise the young, teach them what they know, and when it's
time to die, do so without any fuss, and let the earth reabsorb your
body. That was the approach to life taken by aboriginal peoples the
life over, and I don't for a second think their "pagan" ideas are
less advanced than ours... in fact, I think our society could learn a
lot from them.
I don't believe we're here to use this planet in any way we see
fit. I believe we're here to coexist with it as harmoniously as
possible. To me, the religions that admit that -- be they Native
American, Hindu or whatever -- are a lot wiser and more realistic in
at least their world view, if not all the fine details, than
Christianity and Judaism and all these other "your body's a shell"
religions that deny our animal nature.
And we are animals, no matter how much more we might have
to our nature. Part of us is under the spell of that reptile brain.
And when we die, we're meant to replenish the earth, not sit wax-like
in some metal box.
Another aspect of the issue is that of what we leave behind us
for our children. Humans are one of a very few species of animal that
will hurt and maim and kill its young.
Think of it this way. Suppose your neighbors were a normal
couple, nice folks, pleasant and charming in conversation, upstanding
people except for one thing. Pardon the image, but suppose every
morning your neighbors urinated in their children's cereal bowls and
then made them eat it.
You wouldn't think too highly of your neighbors in that
situation, would you? No, you'd call DHS or some equivalent agency,
maybe the police, and report your neighbors for child abuse.
Pollution is a form of child abuse -- we're poisoning the
world they will one day inherit from us. And just like beating or
molesting a child, it's a form of abuse that in some cases is
perpetuated from generation to generation. Some break the cycle; some
fall into it.
There might be a world after this (I don't believe so, but I've
been wrong before). But does that mean we should try any less to make
this one good, to keep it the way we found it? To me the highest
compliment we can pay to this planet and whatever force might have
set us upon it is to respect this planet that keeps us alive. To me
there's a lot more holiness in picking up a can from the side of the
road than there is in sitting on a church pew and singing about how
we're all going to Heaven.
Jason R. Tippitt
Martin, TN, USA
April 22, 1997
Updated February 17,
1998
God Is Dead -- Now What?