It Is Who We Are
by Lynn R. Miller
Out changing irrigation pipe on a crystal clear summer morning and I notice four buzzards circling over the woods a little to the north of me. One peels off the circle and heads my way, then floats on the current until it is just thirty feet above me banking into a small circle. Suddenly dawns on me that we are looking right at each other, and that I am standing still as a corpse. All of a sudden, I jab my fist into the air at the scavenger bird and it jerks its head, falling backwards out of its circle and returns to join the other three off in the distance.
Reminds me of my dear departed buddy Bulldog Frasier. He was staying with us, as was his custom, during one of our auctions, he and his red heeler Stubby. Auction was done and we were having breakfast just before he was to leave to return to Montana. Fork in hand, no change to his tone he said “Boss, don’t ever give up. No matter what, don’t ever give up.” Not long after that Bulldog passed away. But he never ever gave up. That was the sort of man he was.
Bulldog was a horseman, a farmer and a logger. He knew intimately what it meant, and what it took, to stay with the necessary work, day in and day out. He knew that there would be days when he could enjoy having laid up the crops, or having loaded out the last of the logs on a job, or selling a good team of horses he had raised and trained. But he knew just as certain, that every next day would have more chores needed doing. That he had signed on to a continuum.
With the difficulties we have experienced these last many months, difficulties that arguably were not of our making, we almost lost the ultimate battle, because we almost allowed the difficulties to define us. But now, all of a sudden it would seem, we shake our fist at the buzzards, and we return to the real work at hand because the animals need fed, the crops needed tending, the fence needs patching, the neighbors need our help, and family wants to be held and enjoyed. Those of us who are farmers know these things. It is who we are. And that distinction is incredibly important. Though the evidence is to the contrary, in the world today society seems to have accepted without quarrel that the highest and best distinction for us all is our commonality. I disagree completely. I believe our highest and best distinction as human beings comes of our individuality, and of our separate and separated cultural distinctions. I believe completely that we as farmers are different from school teachers, I believe that carpenters are different from bankers, I believe that Japanese people are different from Sudanese people, that paupers are different from princes, and that thieves are different from honest folk. And I also believe that the lines of distinction are frequently fuzzy and blended. But that never lessens the defining facts of the distinctions, one from the other. And those distinctions, that variety, those various sets of working values give us our vitality and worth, they define us.
Visiting a Parable
Fifty five years ago, in requisite summer bible school, my young brain took a bead on the story of the Tower of Babel. I found it fascinating even though I was too young to have any context to place it in, or against. As my remembered version of the story goes, way back sometime around the beginning of recorded history every one was of a kind, spoke the same language, ate the same foods, on and on. One nation, if you will. And the leaders, feeling like there wasn’t much left to accomplish within their small and nearly perfect world, decided to have its peoples build a tower all the way up into the heavens, right up to God’s front porch as it were. The project caused some discontent and, depending on your version, for whatever reason people fell upon each other in anger and argued until their languages separated in many dialects and people grew to hate one another just because it seemed the ‘right’ thing to do. (I do believe that that is where we came up with the word ‘Babbel’ as in nonsensical speech, a confusion of tongues at the Tower of Babel.) The Tower figuratively and literally came tumbling down and the small engineered and ‘perfect’ world became various, messy, large and far flung. I’ve always felt that the story contained a seed of the truth of natural design, that the ‘world’ sought and seeks its own balance in all things, definitely including the human species. And that balance begs for variety.
The Ranting Section
I have a storage closet in my brain, a space where I hang thoughts and ideas in a haphazard pattern that matches how these thinkings touch one another. The Tower of ‘Babel’ has come to hang in my brain with many thoughts centered on modern man and corporate rule. I ‘feel’ that corporate governance is very like the one world leadership of early Babel, believing that keeping everyone of a language and of a target (building the Tower) was the right thing to do, to demand. The board room needs to believe, in the measure they feel counts – the marketplace, that people in Uganda and Paraguay and Alabama and France and China are or will be all the same – they will eat the same foods, live in similar houses, visit with each other over the same social networking sites, use the same medical systems, worship in similar ways, get their news from the same sources. And the board rooms have decided that the Tower we are building is one of artificial life, that we will reach God when we no longer depend on the vagaries of nature for our food, environment, shelter, spirituality, class structures, and more. Genetic engineering, artificial intelligence, synthetic materials, ‘virtual’ realities, corporate funding and ‘suspense’ accounts will, they believe make it possible for all of us to travel back and forth from heaven on weekends in hybrid vehicles outfitted with talking computers which are capable of generating genetically-engineered snacks, beverages, and travel games. But something is going very wrong with this plan. People are fighting amongst themselves and reclaiming old ways, languages, heritage foods, craft-based skills of self-sufficiency, spirituality which is connected with nature, and an abiding disdain of usurpers, board members, pretenders, cyber mobs, stock brokers, bank owners and internet chatrooms. The construction of this new tower to artificial life is faltering. We are experiencing, in the wider world, a ‘confusion of tongues.’
So I’m out baling hay and these scattered manic thoughts come charging in on me. What if several states in these United States actually succeed in seceding? What if Quebec becomes a nation unto itself? What if Mongolia pulls out of China? What if people around the world recognize that all of our governments are in states of advanced rot? What if the CEOs of large brokerage firms and big banks are actually charged with the felonies we all know they committed in recent years? What if Monsanto is tried in court for endangering biological life on the planet? What if college athletes are allowed to earn money? What if every elected official in every country has to pass a series of tests: lie detector, blood workup, spelling, arithmetic, criminal record search and financial disclosures? What if the Food and Drug Administration was subjected to an ethical and moral audit? What if people are allowed to grow real food? What if Facebook were restricted to those under the age of 10? What if people could milk their cows and then drink the milk, put manure on their fields as fertilizer, collect seeds from the plants they grow, allow their chickens and hogs to run out on pasture, plant fruits and vegetables in their yards, and be contemptuous of a justice system which has become contemptuous of them, a justice system which has forgotten what “justice” is? What if pigs grew wool?
Thunder and lightning and a whole mess of confusion, that’s what it would mean. The Tower of artificial life tumbling down. It could also mean we find we’re on our way back to a bigger world, one where fairness was/is a criteria and wealth a wide open measure. Because, let’s face it, the race to all things “bigger” has granted license to stupidity, corruption, and police-state tactics. The breakup of governments, empires, corporations, and artificial integrations would, in the long run, be a mighty good thing. Allow tribes to be tribes, find the biologically defensible ways to keep them from fighting each other. Allow families to be small craft-based businesses and find ways to defend them from corporate marauders. Allow that even the smallest of us are innocent until proven guilty even if it erodes the court system’s implied imperative to protect the property rights of the biggest. Does that make of me an anarchist? Don’t think so. Think it makes of me just one individual who’s tired of looking the other way.