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Show THE ZEPHYR/JUNE-JULY 2008 but chained to a series of teenaged pop flop, Monsieur Browne’s clever tune becomes an insidious weapon in the marketing of the nation’s most banal Vaudevillian sideshow - Boomeritis. And what Boomers want is candy coated nostalgia with a side order of bubble gum utopia. Don’t touch that dial - Herman’s Hermits is up after this word from REPORTING Tce)fa mn tatoo our (corporate) sponsor. [remote control — channel surf deluxe - flip top mojo — we're off on Tangent No. 33 — stand by for lift off] oA Is it my imagination, or has Homo erectus asphaltus caused more damage to the. BlueGreen Planet in the aftermath of the.1st Earth Day than in the preceding million years (during our trek from the jungles of Africa to where we now reside, atop the junk heap of the Dimformation Age)? I don’t know how one quantifies garbage like that, and certainly don’t care. But what seems obvious is that the “good ole days” of the Environmental Movement are quickly morphing into a silly circus act. Not that I’m particularly nostalgic for the Green Yesteryears — but they were fun, to be sure. At least, as long as the tequila SPACEof HISTORY oe from NED the desk I don't know about you, but I'd just as soon break out with herpes as go to the dentist. The shrieking pitch of the drill as it deconstructs (what's left) of my once cherished enamel is enough to cause a sudden outburst of primate phobia, despite the usual overdose of Novocaine. of MUDD When you are wrestling for possession of a sword, the man with the handle always wins. - Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash was flowing and somebody remembered who we were suing at the moment. Now that the fog has lifted, it’s increasingly hard to believe how many years I spent head banging for the Big Earth Momma. The irony was in winning a lawsuit, only to realize that nothing would change as long as growth for the sake of growth continued to be the mai American religion. Sacrilege, you say? Hardly. The worship of wealth is nothing new or weird. Primate behavior being what it is, it’s no mystery that apes like us are programmed to be as acquisitive as possible during what time is allotted to us. The fact that there are now 6.5 billion of us makes our genetic proclivity to reap what we don’t sow all the more onerous. Repeat after me: Carrying capacity, carrying capacity, My erudite editor, the publishing magnate of Moab, Mr. Stiles, says my assignment, if I choose to accept it, is to wax nostalgic for 1,500 words. Here’s my response, originating from somewhere near my Hippocampus gland: “In my current state of dis-equilibrium, is such a thing possible?” In the movie camera that is my head, nostalgia is a cinematic technique that ought to work, yet falls a hair short of the mark. But all it takes is a trip to the super market, BBQ joint, or nearest zoo to discover to what extent nostalgia reigns supreme in the Ameri- carrying capacity can consciousness (assuming such an animal [no pun] actually exists). One can hardly Bottom line — the old (nostalgic) eco-daze were fun because the great majority of us werent professionals. Today, there’s an Eco-Executive on every block, hell bent on meeting their group’s fund raising mandate before the next Annual Meeting of the Bored of Directors. If that sounds like something out of an Exxon playbook, you're getting globally warm. I think it’s safe to say that nobody I ever worked with got rich defending the “envi- venture more than a few paces from one’s domestic cubicle before being assaulted by manufactured nostalgic media-blips, typically in the guise of atavistic pop tunes. I truly don’t like that stuff. I don’t know about you, but I’d just as soon break out with herpes as go to the dentist. The shrieking pitch of the drill as it deconstructs (what's left) of my once cherished enamel is enough to cause a sudden outburst of primate phobia, despite the usual over- ronment.” Maybe I hung with the wrong people; but I nostalgic, of course. Yet, in the final analysis, the crazies, harder during the Ecological Band-aid Wars than all the it in their skulls to imagine. But, save the environment dose of Novocaine. Just because your lips feel like rubber bananas doesn’t alter the fact that some guy with a motor-powered jackhammer is grinding your noggin into a state of abstraction... But the thing that sticks the cherry on top of the whipped cream of my soul is the relentless drone of what every dentist assumes is an essential ingredient in the practice of jawbone repair — Oldies muzak. There simply isn’t enough laughing gas to convince me that “Doctor My Eyes” needs another minute of airplay. A nice ditty in it’s own right, don’t think so. Crazy, perhaps; fools, and knights errant fought corporate Green Weenies have from 6 billion mutant primates with cell phones and the hots for Brittney Spears? Load the Cuervo; I feel a spasm coming on. i < < wy Tex’s RIVERWAYS | VVVVVVVVVVVVYV 3-D RIVER VISIONS, INC. Canoe Outfitting and Rentals Shuttle Service Jetboat Tours THE BITING MIDGES ARE BACK. _ A unique selection of traditional Hopi arts, crafts and cultural items including over 150 Katsina dolls done in the traditionalstyle, as well as baskets, ceremonial textiles, jewelry, potteryand more. We also have complete visitor information (including connections for knowledgeable and articulate guides) to make your visit to Hopi a memorable and enjoyable one. « 4 So come visit Tsakurshovi, the shop with the unpronouncable name. We're located 1 1/2 miles east of the Hopi Cultural Center at MP 381 on Highway 264 in the heart of the Hopi Rez. @ 4 TSAKURSHOVI (The home of the "Don't Worry-Be Hopi" T-shirt) PO box 234, Second Mesa, AZ 86043 1-928-734-2478 Vvvvvvvvvvvvvy PO Box 67 691 North 500 West 435.259.5101 info@texsriverways.com WAN) CaM AWE Looe) pa 20 |
