at every stage, our actions are marked by a lack of respect for the powers we are unleashing- a certainty, or at least a hope, that the nature we have turned to garbage, and the people we have treated like garbage, will not come back to haunt us. naomi klein, this changes everything

as he banged his pots and pans and the ceiling i said to the neighbor in my head, don't fret it, i'll have a moment of silence when you're dead. then i'll play your ghost songs.

it's not innovation, it's madness

orphaned in the present

solastalgia. the homesickness we feel at home.

strange negotiations

the nature conservancy gets a gift from big oil, the last refuge of the atwater chicken. they drill for oil and kill the last chicken. they keep drilling.

we occupy countries and arm their militias and then wonder why they hate us. naomi klein, this changes everything

we do the same thing over and over, war to war, and in between we call them mistakes while we do it again. * 

*hey kids, this is a pretty grim entry, mea maxima culpa.