[R-G] [BillTottenWeblog] The Coming Re-becoming

[Bill Totten]

Clusterfuck Nation

by Jim Kunstler

Comment on current events by the author of
The Long Emergency (Atlantic Monthly Press, 2005)

www.kunstler.com (July 28 2008)


Everywhere you turn in this nation, you see a society primed for
implosion. We seem unaware how extraordinary the American experience has
been, especially in the last hundred years. By this, I don't mean that
we are a better people than any other society - these days, ordinary
people in the USA make an effort to appear thuggish and act surly, as
though we were a nation of convicts - but for decade-upon-decade, we
were very fortunate. Even the Great Depression of the 1930s may seem
like a relatively peaceful and gentle "time out" from a frantic era of
hypertrophic growth, compared to the storm we're sailing into now.

We were fortunate to inhabit a New World filled with productive land,
lots of minerals, and plenty of coal, oil, and gas; and the land itself
was insulated physically from the great theaters of 20th century
conflict, though we fought in wars "over there". That experience itself,
especially our victory over manifest evil in the Second World War, left
us with a dangerous mentality of triumphal exceptionalism. Even now, we
think we are immune to the epochal hazards of history. The notion that
nothing really bad can happen to us is reflected in the blind
cluelessness of our current news media and their simple failure to
report what is now happening.

I drove up along an obscure stretch of the upper Hudson river on Sunday,
starting in the old factory town of Cohoes, north of Albany, where the
Mohawk River runs into the Hudson. There is a powerful waterfall there,
and along the high bank the massive old red-brick Harmony Mill still
stands with its Victorian towers and mansard roofs, like a vision from
an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Behind them are streets of red-brick,
three-story worker row-housing from the same period. Today they are
inhabited by a different kind of poor people, not necessarily working,
and probably suffering from a sheer lack of structure in their lives as
well as plain poverty of means. These are people who probably don't
follow the Bloomberg financial bulletins, and their experience of a
cratering economy may only be the rising cost of cigarettes and beer.

The tattoo quotient among both men and women there is impressive. In the
days when the Harmony Mill was built, only South Seas cannibals and
sailors wore tattoos. You wonder: are tattoos now the only way left for
this class of Americans to assert their selfhood? And what exactly are
they proclaiming? I am a warrior. Or is it: I am a television (I display
pictures, too) !? The expanding class of the poor-and-idle has been
remarkably passive in the face of their dwindling prospects. Perhaps
they passed the point years ago (a generation or two ago!) when there
was any sense of sequential improvement for the family's
station-in-life. The destiny of their everyday lives must seem totally
beyond their control. They are subject to the fate of distant
corporations who sell the staple corn-syrup byproducts and gasoline on
which daily life is based. Where government is concerned, they are all
potential victims of Katrina-ism, awaiting their own personal disaster.

North of the junction of the Mohawk and Hudson was the old town of
Waterford, where the Erie Canal began its journey west - bypassing those
powerful waterfalls. The locks are still there and still in operation
for the infrequent tanker ships and ore barges that come and go to the
Great Lakes. But the operation of the canal system is automated to the
extent that it requires only a handful of people to run the locks now,
and the town around them has deteriorated into slum and semi-slum
garnished with a few convenience stores and pizza shops. There is no
other commerce there. No matter how poor, the denizens are required to
drive a car to a giant chain store for groceries or hardware or clothing.

As you leave Waterford, the river road becomes a suburban corridor of
1960s-vintage ranch houses and stand-alone small retail business
buildings which, if used at all now, are mostly hair salons,
chiropractic studios, and other services not generally rendered by the
chain stores. All this stuff was deployed along the road with the
expectation that Americans would be driving cars cheaply forever. Now
that this is distinctly no longer the case, corridors like this are
entering their death throes. The awfulness of the design and
construction of these buildings is now especially vivid as the plywood
de-laminates, and the vinyl soffits fall off, and the dinge of neglect
forms a patina over it all. Hopelessness infects this landscape like a
miasma. Whatever young adults remain in these places are not thinking
about a plausible future, only looking to complete their full array of
tattoos and lose themselves in raptures of sex, methedrine, and video
aggression.

Eventually, after running through the disintegrating towns of
Mechanicville (once a place of earnest labor, just like it sounds, now a
morass of sinking car dealerships and Quik-stops), and Stillwater
(smaller version of the same), the road turned completely rural and few
other cars ventured up there. The decisive Revolutionary battle of
Saratoga was fought near there on the bluffs and hills overlooking the
Hudson in 1777. You wonder what the heroes of that battle would think of
what we have become. What would they make of the word "consumer" that we
use to describe our relation to the world? What would they think of
excellent river bottom-land that is now barely used for farming - or,
where it is still farmed (dairying if anything), of farmers who will not
even put in a kitchen garden for themselves because it might detract
from their hours of TV viewing?

The sclerosis of American life is shocking. If you go further north up
the Hudson River, to Fort Edward and Hudson Falls, you'll see a nation
that seems ready to crawl off and die. There, it appears too far gone to
even put up a proxy fight on a video screen. Frankly, I don't want that
version of America to survive - the America of chain stores, and muscle
cars, and grown men obsessed with video games, drugs, and pornography,
and women decorated like cannibals, and the vast, crushing
purposelessness of it all. I have no doubt we're heading into a
convulsion that will wring much of this junk and dross into the
backwaters of history. We're capable of being something better than
this, of putting our time on earth to better use, including a more
respectful treatment of the land we inhabit. This year and the next will
be the years of letting go, and out of that we'll commence a re-becoming.

____________________________________

My new novel of the post-oil future, World Made By Hand, is available at
all booksellers.

http://jameshowardkunstler.typepad.com/clusterfuck_nation/2008/07/the-coming-re-becoming.html


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