As spring pushes winter out of the northeast and another New England summer approaches, I would like to talk to the Earth Hour fanatics and the concrete jungle liberals about the “ecosystem.”
Anyone who lives in an actual ecosystem, one that is not dominated by concrete and asphalt off which the trill of horns and car alarms can be heard echoing in the night, has no frikkin idea what an ecosystem really is. It is not the cacophony of traffic punctuated by an olfactory brawl between diesel fumes, a pine tree shaped “new car smell” air freshener,” the infrequent bathing habits of a middle eastern cab driver, and your cinnamon latte. Wildlife is not defined by the alcoholic mating calls of things that stumble out of neon lit night clubs, or the guttural whispers emanating from ill-lit, trash filled alleys. And conservation is not an extra crate from Crate and Barrel into which you place the recyclable refuse of fair-trade certified foods.
An eco system is the thing I do battle with every year called the back yard. It is a scant 2.3 acres of plants, and birds, and rocks, and things; bugs and trees and untamed animals. Deer, Moose, snakes, critters, and creatures outnumber me in a thousands. Black flies own May and June, Mosquitoes every other warm month, and chipmunks collect acorns by the trillions. Feel free to come by and take a million for yourself, we’ve got plenty.
So Earth Hour can kiss my amps.
And while there will be a sliver of people who will actually abstain with a Lenten fortitude from modern comforts, fasting in darkness and quiet for the required 3600 seconds, with nothing but the sound of their own breath for company, most of the eco-hippies will have turned off their lights at home, and gone out; maybe to a movie, a late dinner, or some other civilized activity at which electricity will be a prominent feature. They will feel better about themselves despite their hypocrisy, having genuflected before the great green church by being somewhere else, in the company of others, who may or may not even know about Earth Hour.
And what of the compliant media? Will they stop broadcasting? Not a chance. They will be busy reporting on Earth Hour, in heavy rotation, burning up electrons to advertise an illegitimate act of conscience that neither they nor their viewers will be participating in.
Such is the true nature of the movement.
Back in the real world, where we are preparing to do battle with nature just to keep it at bay, we understand the difference between dog and pony show and the real deal. We live in nature and with it, respect it, and treat it accordingly. We get the difference between husbanding the landscape and playing dress up. And we are comfortable in that knowledge and one with our ecosystems–including the ones powered by electricity.