Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Mrs. Druid
I'm feeling a need right now to set a thing or two straight about Mrs. Druid. I have remarked upon her fondness for electronic conveniences prior to this, but there is so much more to her as a person than as a comic foil in my blog entries. She wouldn't have become Mrs. Druid in the first place if she weren't an individual of character and substance. I rely on her wit and humor to get me through times when I'd rather sleep in to miss the entire day. She is beautiful and womanly, with a smile that lights up any room. She is my partner in sustainability- domestic and otherwise.
Where Has All the Pig Iron Gone, Long Time Mama?
As one might have gathered from some of the posts here so far, I'm something of an adherent to self reliance, if not an outright primitivist. My leaning in this direction comes from several different personal viewpoints. Firstly, I'm just plain fascinated with the ingenuity of our forbears. I can pore for hours over diagrams of medieval and early modern mechanical devices. Secondly, I operate under a basic lack of trust that anyone besides myself can act impartially and in my own best interest. Thirdly, after seeing the massive bungling of the meteorological pile-up between New Orleans and hurricane Katrina, I have essentially no confidence in the ability of my municipal, county, state, or federal governments to adequately safeguard my interests, or even my basic survival. It seems to me that many of us are truly on our own.
One of the looming features that peak oil pandits (I can't resist the proper Hindi spelling of that word) often bring to our attention is that much of the US's manufacturing capability has been exported to overseas sweatshops. The ethical and karmic issues surrounding this aside, there is a very serious practical side to it that cannot be overlooked. As the price of energy and transport rises, so too will the price and ready availibility of all those imported neccessities. Many of our consumer goods are made to break or wear out quickly, and are cheaper to throw away than to fix. On top of that, an increasingly dwindling portion of our society actually knows how to make or fix something. Where once we had a nation of craftsmen, mechanics, and toolmakers, we now have a nation of marketing experts, retail sales clerks, and luxury service providers. To get around the possibility of a shortage of crucial tools and long-lasting implements of everyday life, I have begun replacing as much of the extraneous and disposable items around me as I can. For instance, I am replacing the plastic storage containers and ziploc bags in my kitchen with longer lasting stainless steel boxes and canisters. To me this is as much a wise investment of my money as it is an effort at conservation. I have every intention of passing these precious artifacts along to my grandkids when the time comes for them to set up house (I'd also like to rid myself of the microwave and the Xbox, but Mrs. Druid hasn't quite come that way in her thinking yet).
With all this in mind, I decided a short while ago to order my very own copy of the Lehman's Non-Electric Catalog. For those of you not familiar with http://www.lehmans.com/ , they are a family owned business in Ohio that specialize in (funnily enough) non-electric farm implements. Non-electric in this sense also includes non-internal combustion engines. The implied their sales blurb they supply a good many devices and sundries to Amish and Mennonite communities that those good folks can not necessarily produce for themselves, and they also sell Amish-made farm implements. Recieving my paper catalog, I set about doing my paper window shopping. My Hoosier go-to-it-ness was quickly replaced by realization and reflection. Aside from the Amish-made wooden implements, nearly everything else in the catalog is imported. The traditional American cast iron pots and pans are imported from South Africa and China. The traditional American steel milk cans are imported from India. Most of the hand tools such as planes, chisels, and axes are imported from Germany. The oil and kerosene lamps are imported from parts unspecified. Now, I'm not in any way incensed about buying foriegn goods, nor was I even particularly surprised. What I did experience, though, was a certain leaden appreciation of the reality of the dwindling US manufacturing base, and a quiet resolution in the pursuit of my own food and energy independence.
Naoi Beannachtai,
Eremon
One of the looming features that peak oil pandits (I can't resist the proper Hindi spelling of that word) often bring to our attention is that much of the US's manufacturing capability has been exported to overseas sweatshops. The ethical and karmic issues surrounding this aside, there is a very serious practical side to it that cannot be overlooked. As the price of energy and transport rises, so too will the price and ready availibility of all those imported neccessities. Many of our consumer goods are made to break or wear out quickly, and are cheaper to throw away than to fix. On top of that, an increasingly dwindling portion of our society actually knows how to make or fix something. Where once we had a nation of craftsmen, mechanics, and toolmakers, we now have a nation of marketing experts, retail sales clerks, and luxury service providers. To get around the possibility of a shortage of crucial tools and long-lasting implements of everyday life, I have begun replacing as much of the extraneous and disposable items around me as I can. For instance, I am replacing the plastic storage containers and ziploc bags in my kitchen with longer lasting stainless steel boxes and canisters. To me this is as much a wise investment of my money as it is an effort at conservation. I have every intention of passing these precious artifacts along to my grandkids when the time comes for them to set up house (I'd also like to rid myself of the microwave and the Xbox, but Mrs. Druid hasn't quite come that way in her thinking yet).
With all this in mind, I decided a short while ago to order my very own copy of the Lehman's Non-Electric Catalog. For those of you not familiar with http://www.lehmans.com/ , they are a family owned business in Ohio that specialize in (funnily enough) non-electric farm implements. Non-electric in this sense also includes non-internal combustion engines. The implied their sales blurb they supply a good many devices and sundries to Amish and Mennonite communities that those good folks can not necessarily produce for themselves, and they also sell Amish-made farm implements. Recieving my paper catalog, I set about doing my paper window shopping. My Hoosier go-to-it-ness was quickly replaced by realization and reflection. Aside from the Amish-made wooden implements, nearly everything else in the catalog is imported. The traditional American cast iron pots and pans are imported from South Africa and China. The traditional American steel milk cans are imported from India. Most of the hand tools such as planes, chisels, and axes are imported from Germany. The oil and kerosene lamps are imported from parts unspecified. Now, I'm not in any way incensed about buying foriegn goods, nor was I even particularly surprised. What I did experience, though, was a certain leaden appreciation of the reality of the dwindling US manufacturing base, and a quiet resolution in the pursuit of my own food and energy independence.
Naoi Beannachtai,
Eremon
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The Leading Edge of Deindustrialization
The gravity of a thing is not always self-evident. If Marcus Aurelius didn't write that in his Meditations, he should have.
'Marina and maritime officials around the country say they believe, however, that most of the abandoned vessels cluttering their waters are fully paid for. They are expensive-to-maintain toys that have lost their appeal.'
www.nytimes.com/2009/04/01/business/01boats.html?_r=4&hp
There is an old joke among boaters that "a boat is a hole in the water, surrounded by fiberglass, that one pours money into". The story of the boats brings to mind the many 'ranches' that dot the countryside near me here in the Sonoran desert. A hundred years ago people here ranched horses on vast open range as a means of livelihood. The sale of strong horse stock every year was what supported families over generations. Now the typical 'horse ranch' is under 2 acres and the stock on it are pets kept at great expense by hobbyists and rentiers, not unlike the boats.
In John Michael Greer's book, The Long Descent, the author raises the possibility of horses and sailing vessels as part of the future's renewable sources of tractor energy. Boating hobbyists have not yet (as far as I know) taken the steps to turn their luxury craft into going concerns. Judging by the lack of 'for sale' signs along the roads here, I'm hoping the horsey set will fare better.
'Detroit was once home to nearly 2 million people but has shrunk to a population of perhaps less than 900,000. It is estimated that a city the size of San Francisco could fit neatly within its empty lots. As nature abhors a vacuum, wildlife has moved in.'
www.detnews.com/article/20090402/METRO08/904020395/To+urban+hunter++next+meal+is+scampering+by
I'm actually intrigued by the idea of going on safari in an abandoned urban area. When I was in art school, friends and I would hunt for rats in Philly's Chinatown alleys at 2 a.m. with wrist rockets.
The issue of depopulation in Motown is not limited to the rusty city itself:
'Since 2001, migration has cost Michigan 465,000 people, the equivalent of the combined populations of Grand Rapids, Warren and Sterling Heights -- the state's second-, third- and fourth-largest cities...Those leaving Michigan are the people the state most needs to keep -- young and college-educated. The state suffered a net loss to migration of 18,000 adults with a bachelor's degree or higher in 2007 alone -- the equivalent of half the staff of the University of Michigan crossing the state line.'
www.detnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090402/METRO/904020403/&imw=Y
How many other states whose economies were/are based on centralized heavy industry and manufacturing are going to feel the same crunch as Michigan, being left more and more with an aging population and no one to work, care, or pay for it?
Naoi Beanachatai,
Eremon
'Marina and maritime officials around the country say they believe, however, that most of the abandoned vessels cluttering their waters are fully paid for. They are expensive-to-maintain toys that have lost their appeal.'
www.nytimes.com/2009/04/01/business/01boats.html?_r=4&hp
There is an old joke among boaters that "a boat is a hole in the water, surrounded by fiberglass, that one pours money into". The story of the boats brings to mind the many 'ranches' that dot the countryside near me here in the Sonoran desert. A hundred years ago people here ranched horses on vast open range as a means of livelihood. The sale of strong horse stock every year was what supported families over generations. Now the typical 'horse ranch' is under 2 acres and the stock on it are pets kept at great expense by hobbyists and rentiers, not unlike the boats.
In John Michael Greer's book, The Long Descent, the author raises the possibility of horses and sailing vessels as part of the future's renewable sources of tractor energy. Boating hobbyists have not yet (as far as I know) taken the steps to turn their luxury craft into going concerns. Judging by the lack of 'for sale' signs along the roads here, I'm hoping the horsey set will fare better.
'Detroit was once home to nearly 2 million people but has shrunk to a population of perhaps less than 900,000. It is estimated that a city the size of San Francisco could fit neatly within its empty lots. As nature abhors a vacuum, wildlife has moved in.'
www.detnews.com/article/20090402/METRO08/904020395/To+urban+hunter++next+meal+is+scampering+by
I'm actually intrigued by the idea of going on safari in an abandoned urban area. When I was in art school, friends and I would hunt for rats in Philly's Chinatown alleys at 2 a.m. with wrist rockets.
The issue of depopulation in Motown is not limited to the rusty city itself:
'Since 2001, migration has cost Michigan 465,000 people, the equivalent of the combined populations of Grand Rapids, Warren and Sterling Heights -- the state's second-, third- and fourth-largest cities...Those leaving Michigan are the people the state most needs to keep -- young and college-educated. The state suffered a net loss to migration of 18,000 adults with a bachelor's degree or higher in 2007 alone -- the equivalent of half the staff of the University of Michigan crossing the state line.'
www.detnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090402/METRO/904020403/&imw=Y
How many other states whose economies were/are based on centralized heavy industry and manufacturing are going to feel the same crunch as Michigan, being left more and more with an aging population and no one to work, care, or pay for it?
Naoi Beanachatai,
Eremon
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