Monday, August 7, 2017

A better world, whatever we call it

the guardian today has an exclusive story:
US federal department is censoring use of term 'climate change', emails reveal
The Department in question is Agriculture, in particular, its Natural Resources Conservation Service.

Perhaps it's because, for a change, I was doing some actual physical work this morning, and the exercise left me feeling mellow, but the story didn't send me off the deep end as most days it would have. Perhaps it's because I've just about finished rereading Terry Tempest Williams Finding Beauty in a Broken World, but it occurs to me that this could offer, if handled properly, an opportunity to help climate change adaptation, mitigation and minimization become mainstream practice. One way to do that would be for all of us to become familiar with and support Congressman Earl Blumenauer's proposal for the next Farm Bill. His report, Growing Opportunities, which explains the need for and rationale behind his proposed Food and Farm Act.

It's been quite awhile since I've been enthused by almost any legislative proposal. I like everything I've seen so far in Congressman Blumenauer's approach. (In fact, I wish Minnesota's Eighth District Congressman would take a similar approach to mining legislation.) The language games emanating from the misguided administration in Washington, D.C., if properly responded to, could put us in this situation:

cartoonist Joel Pett beautifully illustrates that there are many, many reasons,
other than “the sky is falling,” to respond to climate change

Frankly, I don't give a damn what anyone calls it, as long as we focus on building a better world. Sort of like the old "I don't care what they print about me, as long as they spell my name right?"

Naming



Let me tell you this once
(I will not be able to say it again):
I have lost the meaning of words.
Heavy, they ripped away from the sounds,
fell into cracked ground. For weeks
I scratched but what I dug up was
bicycle spokes, black melon rinds,
a smashed doll face--it was not meaning.
I don’t know what I am saying.

I exaggerate. Not everything is gone.
I still know perfectly what sugar means,
and pine needle. Laughter is more
of a problem. And yellow often slides,
a plate of butter in the sun.
The meaning of flower has gone entirely;
so has the meaning of love. Now it is safe
to say: I love you. Now it is true.


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