The semester is steaming along, and steamrolling me. Wonderful discussions yesterday in two of my classes, both part of Poetry Inside/Out, contributed to the steamrollery and also inspired me to further consider the role of social critics and social criticism.
Even though it seems we’ve seen the end of $4 gas, the economy is not quite out of the woods. Demand destruction and a severely constricting economy have driven down the price of oil and its distillates. But the resulting economic bounce has resembled a dead cat tossed off a skyscraper.
Dr. Day-Ruiner.
Dr. IHAN (short for I Have A Nightmare, wordplay on Dr. Martin Luther King’s “Dream” speech).
Dr. Doomsday.
Prophet of Doom.
These are the names given to me by friends. They are the nicest things people call me. You can imagine what others say.
For those of you not paying attention to the news last week, here’s a quick summary: The United States economy nearly collapsed, taking the world economy with it. Only a quick infusion of cash by the Treasury Department prevented full-scale collapse. The problem: peak oil. The solution, such as it is: print money, sensu Weimer Republic. Ben “Helicopter” Bernanke is living up to his nickname, and he’s getting a loan from Henry Paulson.
Oh, the conundrums faced by TPTB.
Consider Ben Bernanke and the other goons at the Federal Reserve Bank: They have to raise interest rates. But they can’t. If they raise them, thereby strengthening the declining American dollar, they destroy any hope for economic growth. And if they don’t raise them, the dollar plunges straight down the toilet (the flush kind, not the composting kind).
Nearly three years ago, I rounded up 30 people for a conversation. The goal: create a community of friends who would survive and perhaps even thrive during the post-carbon years ahead. The conversation lasted about 18 months, after which we were down to 3 of us (counting my dog).
A couple days after returning from a trip across the pond, I departed Tucson for northern California. As suggested in my latest entry, I have multiple goals for this trip: (1) There’s no better time than June to avoid the Sonoran Desert; (2) I’m seeing the world while I can, before the Empire dissolves; and (3) I’m facilitating the Fall of Empire, one gallon at a time. In addition, I’ve been asked to speak at the monthly meeting of the Willits Economic LocaLization group (WELL), arguably the people best prepared, at least in this country, for the collapse of civilization. If you’re in the area, drop by the Willits, California community center Monday, 23 June at 6:15 p.m. for a discussion titled, “Thriving in the post-petroleum era.”