The Gulf oil disaster is an ecological nightmare that will spread across the globe and persist for years. And it just gave me a terrifying thought that will probably disturb my sleep for nights to come: What if most people actually like what is happening to our planet? Not that anyone is crazy enough to actually enjoy this catastrophe and the many smaller ones constantly taking place, but in the sense that it’s the lesser of two evils — the worse one being running out of oil.

The answer is evident already. Some people are warning against a ban on offshore drilling. One authority said drilling should be allowed in “less sensitive” areas. As if getting hit in the head with a hammer would be painful, so show me a “less sensitive” area of your body I can pound on.

I have always realized that most people wouldn’t accept my homestead solutions to so many of the world’s problems as outlined in The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Self-Sufficient Living and many other writings, but I’d always assumed that they would at least appreciate the Garden of Eden kind of world that kind of living would result in. That’s why the sudden thought was so terrifying. To the question “Is this the kind of world you want to live in?” a good many people wouldn’t hesitate a moment before shouting YES!

They love cities, the bigger, more crowded, noisier, and more sophisticated the better. They fear and detest the countryside: solitude, lurking unknown dangers, rough unpaved terrain, bugs. Oil pollution in the Gulf of Mexico or in Alaska doesn’t faze them: they’re much more concerned about the latest tech gizmo and power outages and whatever entertainment is planned for next weekend. And of course, they love their cars. For most people, reducing the use of personal transportation would be a major hardship, and eliminating it would be unthinkable.

I always knew my diatribes against the American automobile culture and sybaritic comforts in general would be ignored or ridiculed: there simply is no way anybody is going back to the “Dark Ages” of maybe 50 years ago unless they decide to become Amish, or if some unseen and unimaginable force would revive hippiedom. And of course, that would still leave a vast majority believing that the world simply could not function without all the trappings of affluence that even “poor” people have come to take for granted, again, in my lifetime.

In other words, most people are not going to give up their lush lawns and washed cars — to say nothing of flush toilets and daily showers— until they turn on the faucet and nothing comes out. They are not going to give up piloting a huge metal machine on paved roads to go someplace else for some insignificant reason, nor will they even give up mowing that lush lawn — until there is no more gas, or until it becomes truly unbearably expensive, or until the air becomes too polluted to breathe. They are not going to grow vegetables and chickens in their backyards — until the supermarket shelves are empty and they are literally starving. And even then they’ll most likely blame politicians and demand that “something be done about it.” But then it will be too late.

It’s all going to happen, and you know it. It’s about sustainability. It simply isn’t possible to use up water, oil, and other finite resources, or to befoul them so as to render them useless for human purposes, without eventually coming to the bottom of the barrel. When we reach that point, it’s all over.

During the 50-some years I’ve been writing about this, I have seen rare glimpses of hope: periods when it really did seem like maybe the world was coming to its senses, or more often, that some external event would force the issue. They all turned out to be chimeras.

Which increases the odds that yes indeed, the world will eventually become uninhabitable for humans. The Earth will not die; there will still be life (such as cockroaches and lichens), but humans? Not likely, even in a primitive state.

There are a number of problems involved here, most concerning today’s common concepts of the ideal world, where oil pollution of ecologically and economically crucial oceans is less of a problem than poor tv reception, snow removal must be a top priority for a northern mayor who wants to remain in office, and in general, nature is not a partner, but something to be conquered. Almost all of these problems could be alleviated by simple, self-sufficient, sustainable living.

The Earth’s resources are not infinite: we must exist within certain limits. We have already reached some of those limits, and are approaching more. But what would be so terrible about living within those limits? Those who believe in and demand constant economic growth and see that as the only “progress” consider such thinking to be ridiculous, and what’s worse, anti-capitalist. But to a homesteader, who understands the webs and strands and can appreciate the here and now and simple pleasures, it’s a no-brainer. We must change our management of the planet now, voluntarily, by the way we live — by what we consume, waste, destroy and despoil, and by what we conserve, protect, recycle and substitute. Most importantly, it’s not a hardship at all: With the right attitude, it’s a beautiful way to live!

Unfortunately, since most people don’t agree, we are likely to lose not only the beautiful life, but even the option of pursuing it. Which should terrify anyone who thinks about it. So I hope you too will lie sleepless. If enough of us can work together, it still might not be too late.

Language note: Most people still speak of an oil “spill.” I do not. A “spill” is when someone tips over a glass of milk and says “oops!” And while we’re advised not to cry over spilled milk, that is certainly not the case when millions of gallons of petroleum wreak further havoc on our already beleaguered planet.

You’d think a guy my age would get used to it, but I’m still amazed every time I see a new example of how two people can have completely different views on the same topic. If there are more than two people, it’s like the old story of the four blind men describing an elephant after one touches the trunk and the others a leg, the side, or the tail.

This is obviously important to a writer. I try to anticipate possible objections to everything I say. Sometimes this helps clarify my thinking. It can make me change my mind by seeing another angle before engraving my own idea in stone. Or setting it down on paper. Or just sending it out on the ether.

Sometimes it prepares me for negative feedback. In that case I can try to fill in the gaps in my argument or presentation, to head ‘em off at the pass.

(Alas, this can be futile. In The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Self-Sufficient Living I knew very well some readers would say I didn’t explain enough about how to live self-sufficiently. So I stated quite explicitly, and several times, that there are dozens of entire books devoted exclusively to raising goats… as well as others on chickens, food preservation, wood heat, alternative energy, and of course gardening, along with every other topic pertaining to self-sufficiency. There is no way on Earth anyone could cover any one of those in a single chapter or less. Still, several readers have complained that the book doesn’t tell them everything they want to know about self-sufficient living.)

Even when it’s futile, I can take refuge in knowing that I did my best… and I don’t have to change my thinking. And yet, even after cross-examining myself to the best of my ability, I can still be caught by surprise.

Such was the case when I picked up the Saturday-Sunday Wall Street Journal last weekend. I had just posted my Friday blog based on an article by Joe Queenan in the previous weekend’s paper. I obviously thought it was a great piece, so I wasn’t prepared for the reader reaction. “Mr. Queenan’s rant…” “Mr. Queenan’s snide comment…” “Mr. Queenan’s passionately cynical lament…”

Wow! And that was on nothing more consequential than the prospects of the class of 2010! I shudder to think what they would have said about something more earth-shaking, or even just my embellishments to his essay!

Disagreements are all around us, every day. The Wisconsin legislature recently okayed the sale of raw milk, after a lengthy and sometimes bitter debate. But then, last week, the governor vetoed it. A few weeks ago Eau Claire decided not to allow chickens in the city, so this week a nearby village decided to follow their lead. Let’s not even get into what’s going on in Washington, the oil spill, the two Koreas, or the divorce courts.

I’m not sure what all this means. There are diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks, to be sure, but so many of our disagreements go far beyond mere diversity. And if we humans find it impossible to agree even on petty matters, what hope is there for the big and important things, which usually encompass many, many petty matters?

There is compromise, of course, the usual tool of democracy and civilized peoples. But any decent craftsman knows that a multi-purpose tool seldom works as well as a specialized one, designed and fabricated for a specific purpose. Too often, compromise ends up being the worst of both worlds.

We don’t like to even acknowledge the use of force to settle disagreements, but its presence is obvious. Today, force is usually in the form of money, in one way or another. Call it greasing the skids if you will, and yes, it does make life easier and less contentious for many, but is it the best way to solve problems or to advance civilization?

Power? Political power, which more often boils down to class and position rather than formal legislation, can also be based on money.

It’s rare when the power of an idea takes hold to such a degree that it sways opinions and outcomes. But when it does, it’s a beautiful example of what it means to be human.

As the most interesting argument-settler, I nominate Fate. While two factions of a village are debating whether they should build a dike or a tornado shelter, the village is destroyed by a forest fire.

This happens all the time. The Great Concerns of 10, 20, 50 years ago have mostly faded away. Most of the Great Concerns of today weren’t even on the radar a few years back, and they’ll fade away too. No one can say with any certainty what the Great Concerns of tomorrow will be. Maybe arguing about them is a waste of time. Getting vehement or even violent about it is definitely a waste of effort.

It might be impossible to avoid disagreements, but this doesn’t imply that conflicts must necessarily follow. Ask anyone who’s been married to the same person for 50 years or more. But thinking of that…

When you consider that no two people have exactly the same experiences, starting with childhood… exactly the same education or ideas… the same genes and dreams… maybe the amazing thing is that we humans get along as well as we do. — Jd Belanger

Chickens have been big news in Eau Claire, our nearest “big city” and shopping town. The city council has been debating whether or not to allow raising them in the city. There are strong opinions on both sides.

This week the news got so big it beat out a Supreme Court nomination and the oil spill for that valuable front-page above-the-fold placement in the daily newspaper. Daughter Anne-marie gets home delivery, and emailed us this photo before our paper arrived by snail mail.

Yes, that's me with a chicken on the front page of the May 10 Eau Claire Leader-Telegram. Since "A dog fight on Main St. is more newsworthy than a war in China," the Great Chicken Debate in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, got a better position than the Supreme Court nominee or the Gulf oil spill. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time with the right newly-published book —The Complete Idiot's Guide to Raising Chickens — to get in on the action.

The controversy depresses me, and the issue of having chickens in town is only a part of it. But that part is bad enough.

Why in the world would anyone want to outlaw the soothing clucking of a couple of hens, while yapping crapping dogs are okay? And in some places I’ve been, what about sirens, trains, airplanes, busses, garbage trucks… Come to think of it, is it humane to subject chickens to such human turmoil by raising them in an urban setting?

Why does there have to be a law about such matters? Why can’t neighbors just work it out amongst themselves, if there’s a problem?

Which there shouldn’t be, and in most cases, isn’t. (But a council member dissed anybody who says the officials are wasting their time with such nonsense. That reinforces my policy of never voting for anyone stupid enough to run for public office.)

What is even more depressing — and in a way, frightening — is that issues like these lead to the realization that some people have no idea whatsoever how the real world functions. They have no appreciation for its marvels and beauty, and more significantly, they lack the information required for making the right decisions about utilizing its resources.

Most farm or homestead people who have entertained visitors from the city have some experience with this. Kids, (and in too many cases their parents as well) think milk comes from a factory of some kind, never from a cow or goat. And I’d like to have a nickel for every kid who has watched a cow poop and said, “Yuck! I’m never drinking milk again!”

I have seen children gag, watching me make beautiful, rich, thick and delicious tomato paste with a Victorio strainer. Sure, they eat catsup on everything, but that’s different: that comes from a bottle, not a icky-squishy fresh fruit.

These people are amazed to discover that carrots grow in the ground… with dirt on them. And then there’s Archie Bunker having a fit when Edith said they were having tongue  for supper: “Tongue!? I ain’t eatin’ nuttin’ that came out of a cow’s mouth! Fry me an egg!”

The real problem intensifies when these attitudes are transferred to the wider world. Just as food comes from brightly-lit supermarkets via wonderful factories that are marvels of modern science, gasoline comes from a pump at a filling station. Water comes from a faucet when you turn it on, and electricity arrives through some kind of wiring whenever you flip a switch. It’s all too easy, too simple, too magical to even think about. It’s also predictable and guaranteed… for now.

But of course it results in a disconnect. These people begin to exist, totally and completely, in an artificial world, where the livin’ is easy. They cannot understand, and so they ignore and avoid at all costs the real world, where not all apples are perfect and where death and decay — to say nothing of manure — are hard facts of life.

Little things like being able to identify birds and weeds, watching something edible grow from a tiny dry seed, and seeing first-hand and close-up how eggs are produced, would go a long way toward making people more aware of the world they inhabit. More aware, and therefore, hopefully, more caring. By applying NIMBY (Not In My Backyard) not only to landfills, toxic waste sites and nuclear plants but also to naturalized front lawns, vegetable growing, raising chickens — and nature in general — people become more and more isolated from reality. Allowing nature and all things natural back into our artificial lives is not regressing into primitive living: it makes us more human.

I read this morning that despite the current oil spill, 6 out of 10 people still favor offshore drilling, saying the economic benefits outweigh the environmental dangers. And the Eau Claire city council voted down the chicken ordinance, 8-3. I see a connection.

Sometimes I feel like the old Indian in the tv ad, looking at the ravaged land and cruddy water, and shedding a tear. What more can be done? Humanity will learn, eventually. When all of the breathable air, drinkable water, and fertile soil are gone, they’ll have no choice. Of course, then it will be too late.

The saddest part is, it could have been so wonderful. — Jd Belanger