disasters

Last night I decided to take a break from ruminating over the ceaseless, churning horrors of the world (especially the devastating catastrophes in China and Burma) by distracting myself with a Netflixed movie. Did I watch a frothy comedy or heartwarming chick flick? No, I watched Cloverfield. With all the lights off. Naturally. (But in my defense, I snuggled under a cozy blanket and had Freyja sprawled beside me, one leg kicked over me as she slept, as a source of comfort.)

Well, I was eager to see the movie because it was created by JJ Abrams and involves a monster, and, given that Lost is my crack, any Abrams/monster pairing is a good thing in my book. Besides, one could say that a good distraction from real-world horrors is to watch fake horrors, since they make everything else look semi-decent in comparison. Well, that’s the logic in my world, anyway—I think it’s why I’m so entranced with depressing books (especially those in the dystopian and postapocalyptic oeuvre).

But the movie didn’t actually comfort me very much, because parts of it were very 9/11-ish, to an almost disconcerting degree. However, the CGI was great and I thought—in spite of the stomach-churning bouncing of the handheld camera—it was a very well-done movie, and deliciously scary in its own right (I mean, away any fear caused by the parallels between Cloverfield’s rampage in New York and the terrorist attacks in New York).

When recommending the movie to friends, I advised them to follow it up with a quick visit to the movie’s FAQ on IMDB, because it helps to explain some background material that appeared in viral marketing websites (à la Lost), and this material adds a new dimension to the movie.

Torturing myself even more, I’ve been reading a book (The Long Emergency, by James Howard Kunstler) loaned to me by my boss, and this thing is astoundingly terrifying and makes me want to slit my wrists. But it’s fascinating, too, because I’m admittedly ignorant about the oil crisis. It’s really opening my eyes to what’s looming before us: the day when we will run out of oil. It’s also opening my eyes to the inadequacy of alternative fuels, and how no current alternative can keep our society functioning at its current level. Nothing—not wind power, solar power, biofuels, nor hydrogen—can sustain our society at its current level of growth and speed. Some alternative fuels would do better than others, but in an ironic twist, pretty much all of them need a fossil fuel platform to either get started or to flat-out exist (like how oil is needed to run the machinery that produces wind turbines, solar panels, and usable hydrogen). When oil ends, our society as we know it will end. It won’t disappear, but even with alternative fuels, it will be drastically, permanently altered and shrunk.

The out-of-control population boom of our age is due to the cheap and plentiful oil we’ve thus far enjoyed. It has fueled (no pun intended) globalization, suburban sprawl, factory farming, the inhabitation of areas barely able to support life (such as hyper-arid areas), and the construction of buildings that are completely incompatible with their local climate (for example, southern McMansions without traditional cooling mechanisms such as breezeways and transom windows, and office buildings whose windows won’t open). And these things, in turn, fuel their own set of problems, with environmental degradation, climate change, and antibiotic-resistant diseases being just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

So yes, for the sake of the planet’s health, it’s actually beneficial that our oil days are numbered. However, this also spells catastrophic changes for humans and modern society as we know it. We can barely support the Earth’s current population even with fossil fuels; without them, vast numbers of people will die from starvation and the wars that will undoubtedly be fought over the remaining (and dwindling) oil and natural gas reserves. Our drastically reduced population will have to become intensely local. And that’s where suburban sprawl really becomes problematic. After all, the very definition of sprawl is spreading without restraint, and how local can a community be when it’s spread carelessly over miles and miles? Many communities have no town center containing shops, businesses, and homes within walking distance, because everything is contained in far-flung strip malls and subdivisions. Really, they can scarcely even be called communities, because their individual pieces are so disconnected from one another, they’re not functioning as a cohesive whole.

Kunstler pointed out that America is in a particularly bad spot, because no other country has produced as much suburban sprawl as us, with such a pervasive habit of metaphorically torching our cities as we retreat. Sure, some urban communities remain as intact as ever, and gentrification has breathed new life into formerly abandoned spaces, but so many cities still have cores that have become mere shells—ghost towns littered with crumbling infrastructures, debris, and pollution. They’d need a lot of work before they could sustain a population fleeing from the suburbs. Europe, said Kunstler, is in a better position to survive, because their sprawl is limited, their cities were never forsaken, and most cities and towns have strong agricultural areas not far beyond their borders. Plus they have excellent public transportation, so when oil reserves are too low to give the average person access, people will still be able to get from Point A to Point B.

It got me thinking about my own home, and how I’m in one of those soulless, sprawling suburbs, 23 miles away from my office. In a perfect world, I would’ve been able to buy a home within walking distance of my office or within the DC city limits, but neither was an affordable option for me. So out, out, out I went. And while Frederick is a great city—very community-minded and independent (its residents don’t think of themselves as being in a DC suburb)—I couldn’t afford any non-ghetto houses/condos there, either (downtown, I mean). So I’m outside the city, in a development full of condos and McTownhouses, not near a train station, dependent on my car. In a post-fossil fuel world, I’d be kind of fucked. But then again, if I changed to a local job and got a bike, I could bike to work and bike to downtown Frederick where I could find food and supplies. I imagine the city would handle a post-fossil fuel world surprisingly well, since it already has a wealth of local businesses (not just big-box chain stores in suburban strip malls), a farmer’s market, and agricultural areas.

If you want to learn more about the looming oil crisis; get a thorough, eye-opening overview of fossil fuels, alternative fuels, and the intricate codependency between fossil fuels and modern life; and get scared out of your pants, then I recommend checking out this book.

Anyway, moving on. I know I’ve been M.I.A. lately. A number of major changes are going on at work, leaving me nervous and withdrawn. And freelancing has been hectic, with several tight deadlines hitting at once. Still, things are pretty good for the most part. My mom and aunt visited from out of state over Mother’s Day weekend and I had a lot of fun during their visit. The highlight was when they joined my sister and me for a Mother’s Day brunch at Isabella’s, a superb tapas restaurant in downtown Frederick. Afterwards we wandered through the boutiques downtown, but it was rainy and chilly and not the best day for leisurely strolling around.

This past weekend’s weather was much better, and although much of my time was spent confined indoors, working on freelancing, I did escape for a bit on Saturday to attend a lovely garden party at an ex-coworker’s house. And more of my wood laminate floors were installed on Sunday, leaving me gleefully giddy with excitement.

We’re shifting into a long holiday weekend that’s supposed to have stellar weather. I won’t be traveling anywhere (no beach for me, unfortunately), but I do intend to kick freelancing aside for a little while to A) check out the hiking trails at Monocacy National Battlefield (I’ve heard they’re great), and B) spend some time truly exploring Frederick: photographing the old buildings, learning my way around, poking around all the cool shops, checking out the graves at historic Mt. Olivet Cemetery, and buying birthday presents for a friend.



song heard most recently before posting:
Hometown Glory—Adele