Is it just me diving deeper and deeper into alternative subculture, a process that started when I moved to Minneapolis and continued stronger after I gave up the car as my primary mode of transport; or is the mass movement toward real change in our planet-destroying habits actually gaining momentum independent of gasoline prices? This book is both compelling and depressing for me. Compelling because I enjoy his story and identify with his views on consumption and ecology, but also with his economic success. Depressing because I can't possibly live up to his standards, without sacrificing years of conformist expectations.
While I'm proud, to the point of snobbish vanity, of my bicycle-powered life; I still care about Style, I still crave new stuff (bicycles and gadgets, mostly), and I want the best, most expensive things and experiences for my family. Reconciling these feelings takes up way too many idle cycles in my brain.
Popular culture seems to be exploring a very tame version of reality, as I witness in the release of An Inconvenient Truth, Tom Friedman's latest Charlie Rose appearance, and the last few issues of Wired. That's all good, but you only need a little bit of Chomsky to lose all hope again.
I've had this post languishing in "draft" mode for weeks now. Screw it and publish!