so i went to this party amid disaster. i wanted to see laura flanders and caroline casey. no one else was really telling any good stories. no one really had any appeal. even to me, a hard core leftist. it's easy to please me. right?
i cringed at all of the paper napkins, fliers, maps, sign-up sheets, and other soon to be discarded shit floating around. everyone who was in a leadership position was over 50. the luminaries were congratulating themselves to no fanfare. the green yuppies brought their kids, which was a hopeful sign. since the 70's, the environmentalists had worked hard to bring their fight to an international audience. great. anyone in the obama administration listening?
if the liberals are gonna have a flea market for green trendy wares, then fine, let's have it. but a festival is a celebration. signifying the end of some godawful struggle, the reaffirmation of some sacred vows, or a beginning to some new mission/season/whatever.... the kinds of proposals or potential solutions being offered were, well, old hat. i agree with all of them: reusable materials for building, clothing, and manufacturing, local sustainable agriculture, local food banks and community centers, environmental protection, transparent food safety, and de-funding the military in order to fund infrastructure jobs. these have always been the proposals... for how long now? let's admit some defeat for once. and keep pushing and living these green lives we're all proclaiming. and keep the marketplace booths outside.
the new york times had a booth, i couldn't wait to ask them how it felt being owned by a mexican billionaire gangster. she told me they were the best in press journalism, and i asked if she could tell the me the name of their chief white house correspondent. she couldn't. i'll rant and rave and begrudge and decry, and someone will always invariably ask: so what would be your ideal? jesus, i think to myself, that's soooo tired. make your impact, your way, try to make sense of the world, and don't sell me a bag of goods. unless i could get it from the local library.
i cringed at all of the paper napkins, fliers, maps, sign-up sheets, and other soon to be discarded shit floating around. everyone who was in a leadership position was over 50. the luminaries were congratulating themselves to no fanfare. the green yuppies brought their kids, which was a hopeful sign. since the 70's, the environmentalists had worked hard to bring their fight to an international audience. great. anyone in the obama administration listening?
if the liberals are gonna have a flea market for green trendy wares, then fine, let's have it. but a festival is a celebration. signifying the end of some godawful struggle, the reaffirmation of some sacred vows, or a beginning to some new mission/season/whatever.... the kinds of proposals or potential solutions being offered were, well, old hat. i agree with all of them: reusable materials for building, clothing, and manufacturing, local sustainable agriculture, local food banks and community centers, environmental protection, transparent food safety, and de-funding the military in order to fund infrastructure jobs. these have always been the proposals... for how long now? let's admit some defeat for once. and keep pushing and living these green lives we're all proclaiming. and keep the marketplace booths outside.
the new york times had a booth, i couldn't wait to ask them how it felt being owned by a mexican billionaire gangster. she told me they were the best in press journalism, and i asked if she could tell the me the name of their chief white house correspondent. she couldn't. i'll rant and rave and begrudge and decry, and someone will always invariably ask: so what would be your ideal? jesus, i think to myself, that's soooo tired. make your impact, your way, try to make sense of the world, and don't sell me a bag of goods. unless i could get it from the local library.
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