Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Lysforurensning de luxe

Hurdal skisenter - et episenter for lysforurensning.

Les:

MØRKETS ØY

Måtte Hurdal bli den mørke dalen!

Wikimedia.
Problemet lar seg løse, og det med forholdsvis enkle om enn ikke nødvendigvis billige midler, mener Council for The Protection of Rural Britain (Rådet til beskyttelse av det landlige Storbritannia). For eksempel kan man skjerme gatelyktene slik at lyset bare peker nedover, og gir folk et lite stykke unna sjansen til å betrakte nattehimmelen uforstyrret.

- Vi bruker lys så skjødesløst at vi ikke bare kaster bort en mengde energi, vi lyser opp en mengde ting som bør få være i fred i mørket. Dermed ødelegger vi mye av mystikken og skjønnheten og villskapen som preger landsbygda, sier rådets formann, den kjente forfatteren og journalisten Sir Max Hastings.

Vitenskapsfolk har regnet ut at over halvparten av alle nålevende briter vil gå i sin grav uten noen gang å ha sett Melkeveien. Fem av de tolv stjernebildene som ligger til grunn for stjernetegnene i horoskoper, er ifølge BBCs nettsider helt usynlige i de verst lysforurensede områdene i Storbritannia. - forskning.no
  • Begrepet brukes om belysning som er enten uhensiktsmessig eller overflødig. Dette kan ha konsekvenser for både miljøet, dyr og mennesker.
  • Det kan være lys som blender omgivelsene, eller såkalt skyglow, at himmelen lyser opp bebodde områder. Det kan også handle om at lyset faller på områder hvor det ikke var ment å falle, eller hvor det ikke trengs.
Kilder: International Dark-Sky Association (IDA) og artikkelen "The new world atlas of artificial night sky brightness" i Sciense Advances (juni 2016).

Components of light pollution include:
  • Glare – excessive brightness that causes visual discomfort
  • Skyglow – brightening of the night sky over inhabited areas
  • Light trespass – light falling where it is not intended or needed
  • Clutter – bright, confusing and excessive groupings of light sources

Monday, September 26, 2016

Bygg en retrovasjons-sivilisasjon!

Kommentar her.
Slåmaskinhjul fra Olteruddalen ved Grythengen.

Flickr.


Jeg er svært uenig med Francis Fukuyama. De siste 70 år har vært en sammenhengende nedgangsperiode, en avblomstringstid, en forråtnelsesprosess av den vestlige sivilisasjon, som hadde sin storhetstid mellom 1815 og 1914.
As I see it, western civilization peaked between 1815 and 1914; the fact that we have more shiny toys than they did doesn't outweigh the vast number of ways in which the cultures of that time were stronger and more viable than ours. - JMG
Særlig det siste året har det blitt åpenbart for meg hvor uendelig rike liv min oldefar og tippoldefar levde, kjerneeksempler på erkedruidens standpunkt. De var fullt ut integrert i det lokale, teknologisk, sosialt og religiøst. Etterkrigsgenerasjonen var en forferdelig søppelgenerasjon, og de har etterlatt seg en søppelsivilisasjon som er hinsides min fatteevne. Alt, absolutt alt min oldefar og tippoldefar bygget opp har de utradert.

Det var etterkrigsgenerasjonen som bygget opp AKIS (avanserte konkurranse-industrielle samfunn), og det var fra dette rammeverket Servoglobus materialiserte seg. Hennes infame ondskap er så stor at jeg er ikke i tvil om at djevelen er stum av beundring og stilt sjakk matt.
'Servoglobus’ betegner en global datamaskin-styring, hvor ’servo’ både står for ’automatisk forsterket’ og for ’servise’ eller ’servering’; ’globus’ angir et kuleformet kart istedenfor en levende prosess. Det er altså snakk om en styring av jordens menneske- og natursystem ut fra en mekanistisk modell, hvor små impulser gir sterke effekter, hvor de viktigste prosessene skjer via sammenhengende robot-operasjoner slik at de produktene menneskene trenger serveres uten menneskelig slit, verken kroppslig eller åndelig, og hvor det platonsk-greske idealet om det kroppsfrigjorte menneske er endelig realisert. Med andre ord en tilstand hvor en ingeniørskapt global serveringsdame har erstattet Gaia, biosfæreorganismen som i 3 ½ milliarder år har improvisert myriader av veier og løsninger uten hensyntagen til den spesielle etterspørselen etter varer og tjenester som kjennetegner det 20. århundres euro-amerikanske menneske. – Sigmund K. Setreng, Elvetid, s. 102
Derfor, skal vi ha håp om å få tatt knekken på henne må vi se til storhetstiden for vår vestlige sivilasjon, tiden mellom napoleonskrigene og 1. verdenskrig. Erkedruiden har i denne ukas essay lansert et nytt begrep som er meget nyttig for å kunne bringe denne tiden tilbake: RETROVASJON

- A Time for Retrovation
Not so. The word I’ve coined for the strategy under discussion, retrovation, is obviously backformed from “retro” + “innovation,” but it’s also “re-trove-ation,” re-finding, rediscovery: an active process of searching through the many options the past provides, not a passive acceptance of some bygone time as a package deal. That’s the strategy the Lakeland Republic puts to use in my narrative, and those of my readers who know their way around the backwaters and odd corners of history may find it entertaining to figure out the sources from which I lifted this or that detail of Retrotopian daily life. The rhetoric of progress, by contrast, rejects that possibility, relies on a very dubious logic that lumps “the past” together as a single thing, and insists that wanting any of it amounts to wanting all of it, with the worst features inevitably highlighted.
At disse 70 år med forråtnelse går mot en slutt er i seg selv en velsignelse, måtte vi nå gå inn i retrovasjonens tidsalder!

Thursday, September 22, 2016

A Time for Retrovation (en tid for retrovasjon)

Introduction in Norwegian:

Noen ganger skriver erkedruiden et essay jeg blir fullstendig forelsket i. Denne ukas essay er et av disse. Nettopp fordi det viser hvordan jeg tenker og hvordan Grythengen kunne vært, var det ikke fordi stedet har blitt kvalt av det suburbane helvetet og tilhørende helvetesteknologi. Nå runger mobilsamtalene over de grønne enger. Bort til filosofihytta kommer jeg ikke uten å bli et nervevrak. Over det hele ligger totenbunkerne og stirrer ned på stedet, gjennomstrømsteknologien går på kryss og tvers og lager åpne sår gjennom skogen, låven skal erstattes med et pumpehus, og kubikkvis med plast skal graves metervis ned i bakken. I det fjerne kverner en monoton, mekanisk evighetsstøystøy, som konkurrerer med elva og vinden i løvet om oppmerksomheten.
"Not so. The word I’ve coined for the strategy under discussion, retrovation, is obviously backformed from “retro” + “innovation,” but it’s also “re-trove-ation,” re-finding, rediscovery: an active process of searching through the many options the past provides, not a passive acceptance of some bygone time as a package deal. That’s the strategy the Lakeland Republic puts to use in my narrative, and those of my readers who know their way around the backwaters and odd corners of history may find it entertaining to figure out the sources from which I lifted this or that detail of Retrotopian daily life. The rhetoric of progress, by contrast, rejects that possibility, relies on a very dubious logic that lumps “the past” together as a single thing, and insists that wanting any of it amounts to wanting all of it, with the worst features inevitably highlighted."
Erkedruiden introduserer et nytt, genialt begrep; retrovation eller retrovasjon på norsk, en tilbakevending til gamle, lokale teknologier i fornyet form. Intet ville frydet meg mer enn å bygge opp igjen herr Fossemøllens ruindam over Olterudelva, for så å installere en liten generator til eget bruk. Nede ved der skolvhjulet satt, hvor Johan Solhaug hadde sin første trevare, ville jeg etablert et lite verksted drevet med direkte vannkraft. Et godt komposttoalett ville vært en selvfølge, istedenfor denne idiotiske loopen med å ta opp vann fra Mjøsas dyp for så å føre gråvannet ned igjen til Mjøsa.

Elvebruket Grythengen er ikke lenger knyttet opp mot Olterudelva, men til Mjøsas dyp, symbiosen mellom elva og stedet er brutt

Dessverre ble det ikke slik. Uendelig trist, og jeg våkner ofte med mareritt over Grythengens skjebne. Ingen bryr seg om herr Fossemøllens øyensten, stedet synes ikke engang nedenfra bygda. Allikevel er jeg overbevist om at denne lille husmannsplassen var et av de viktigste brukene på Toten, som grendeportal til en av landets mest særegne grendekulturer. Slik døde grenda, og med dette mistet Øverskreien sin historie og identitet. Etter dette er ikke lenger Toten verdig å kalles Totscana.

Men det er enda mulig å rekonstruere grenda mi, det er kun viljen det skorter på, viljen til å oppgi drømmen om framskrittet, viljen til å styrke våre røtter!

En retrovativ visjon fra James Howard Kunstler - av erkedruidens store inspiratorer

"One way out of this quandary would be to substitute the word “activity” for “growth.” A society of human beings can choose different activities that would produce different effects than the techno-industrial model of behavior. They can organize ten-acre farms instead of cell phone game app companies. They can do physical labor instead of watching television. They can build compact walkable towns instead of suburban wastelands (probably even out of the salvaged detritus of those wastelands). They can put on plays, concerts, sing-alongs, and puppet shows instead of Super Bowl halftime shows and Internet porn videos. They can make things of quality by hand instead of stamping out a million things guaranteed to fall apart next week. None of these alt-activities would be classifiable as “growth” in the current mode. In fact, they are consistent with the reality of contraction. And they could produce a workable and satisfying living arrangement."
- Slowly, Then All at Once

Var jeg og Grythengen blitt verdsatt og ivaretatt som kulturbærere ville nå vannkraften på nytt strømmet gjennom skolvhjulet her ved den første Solhaug trevarefabrikk.

Flickr.

A Time for Retrovation

By John Michael Greer. Original text here.

It's been a little more than a year now since I started the narrative that wrapped up last week. The two weeks that Peter Carr spent in the Lakeland Republic in late November of 2065 ended up covering a little more ground than I’d originally intended, and of course the vagaries of politics and culture in the twilight years of the American century got their share of attention on this blog. Now that the story’s told and the manuscript is getting its final revisions before heading off to the publisher, I want to talk a bit about exactly what I was trying to do by taking an imaginary person to an imaginary place where things work better than they do here and now.

Part of it, of course, was an attempt to sketch out in detail the practical implications of a point I’ve been exploring on this blog for a good while now. Most people in today’s industrial society believe, or think they believe, in progress: they believe, that is, that human history has a built-in bias that infallibly moves it from worse things to better things over time. These days, that belief in progress most often attaches itself to the increasing complexification of technology, and you get the touching faith in the imminence of a Star Trek future that allows so many people these days to keep slogging through the wretchedly unsatisfactory and steadily worsening conditions of the present.

Faith does not depend on evidence. If that statement needs any further proof, youcan get it by watching the way people respond to technological failure. Most of us these days know perfectly well that every software “upgrade” these days has more bugs and fewer useful features than what it replaced, and every round of “new and improved” products hawked by the media and shoveled onto store shelves is more shoddily made, more loaded with unwanted side effects, and less satisfactory than the last round. Somehow, though, a good many of the people who witness this reality, day in and day out, still manage to insist that the future is, or at least ought to be, a paradise propped up by perfectly functioning machines. That the rising tide of technological failure might be something other than an accidental roadbump on the way to utopia—that it might be trying to tell us something that, by and large we don’t want to hear—has not yet entered our society’s darkest dream.

It so happens that in very many cases, older, simpler, sturdier technologies work better, producing more satisfactory outcomes and fewer negative side effects, than their modern high-tech equivalents. After most of two years taking apart the modern mythology of progress in a series of posts that became my book After Progress: Reason and Religion at the End of the Industrial Age, and most of another year doing the more pragmatic posts that are being turned into a forthcoming book tentatively titled The Retro Future, I decided that the best way to pursue the exploration further was to imagine a society very much like ours that had actually noticed the declining quality of technology, and adjusted public policies accordingly. That was the genesis of Retrotopia: the attempt to show, by means of the toolkit of narrative fiction, that deliberate technological regression as public policy didn’t amount to a return to the caves—quite the contrary, it meant a return to things that actually work.

The form that this exploration took, though, was shaped in important ways by an earlier venture of the same kind, Ernest Callenbach’s Ecotopia. I don’t know how many of my readers realize just how dramatic a change in utopian literature was marked by Callenbach’s solidly written tale. From the days of Thomas More’s novel Utopia, which gave the genre its name, utopian literature worked with the contrast between the world as it is and an ideal world as imagined by the author, without any connection between the two outside of the gimmick, however worked, that got a viewpoint character from one to the other. More’s Utopia was a critique of the England of Henry VIII, but there was never any suggestion on More’s part that England might be expected to turn into Utopia one of these days, and nearly all the utopian tales that followed his embraced the same approach.

With William Morris, things began to shift. Morris was a socialist, and thusbelieved devoutly that the world could in fact turn into something much better than it was; during the years that his commitment to socialism was at its height, he penned a utopian tale, News from Nowhere, which was set in a future England long after Victorian capitalism had gone gurgling down history’s sewer pipe. (Later on, in the pages of his tremendous fantasy novel The Well at the World’s End, he wove a subtle but pervasive critique of the socialist views he’d championed—socialism appears there in the stark and terrible symbolic form of the Dry Tree—but that’s a subject for a different post entirely.)

News From Nowhere was quite the controversial book in its day, not least because the socialist future Morris imagined was green, agrarian, and entirely free of the mechanized regimentation of humanity that played such a huge role in the Marxist imagination then as now.  Still, the historical thread that linked Morris’ utopia to the present was very thin.  The story was set far off in the future, and Morris skimmed lightly over the process that led from the dark Satanic mills of Victorian England to the green and pleasant land of his imagined socialist England.

That was where Callenbach took hold of the utopian narrative, and hammered it into a completely new shape. Ecotopia was set barely a quarter century in Callenbach’s own future. In his vision, the states of Washington, Oregon, and the northern two-thirds of California had broken away from the United States in 1980, and the usual visitor—journalist William Weston, from what’s left of the United States—came to pay the usual visit in 1999. Over the nineteen years between independence and Weston’s visit, the new nation of Ecotopia had entirely reshaped itself in the image of the Whole Earth Catalog, adopting the technologies, customs, and worldview that San Francisco-area eco-radicals of the 1970s dreamed of establishing, and here and there actually adopted in their own lives.

It really is a tour de force. One measure of its impact is that to this day, when you ask people on the leftward end of things to imagine an ideal future that isn’t just a lightly scrubbed version of the present, dollars will get you organic free range doughnuts that what you’ll hear is some version or other of the Ecotopian future: wind turbines and solar panels, organic farms everywhere, and everyone voluntarily embracing the social customs and attitudes of the San Francisco-area avant-garde circa 1975 in perfect lockstep. While I was writing Retrotopia, until some of my readers got the hang of the fact that I don’t crowdsource my fiction, I fielded any number of comments and emails insisting that I really ought to incorporate this or that or the other aspect of the Ecotopian future into my narrative. I didn’t take offense at that; it was pretty clear to me that for a lot of people nowadays, Ecotopia is literally the only alternative to the status quo that they can imagine.

We’ll get to the broader implications of that last point in a moment. Just now, I want to talk about why I didn’t write a mildly retro version of Ecotopia. I could have; it would have been easy and, frankly, quite entertaining to do that. I’ve imagined more than once writing a tale about somebody from our world who, via some bit of science-fictionish handwaving, is transported to an alternate America in which Ronald Reagan lost the 1980 election, the Three Mile Island nuclear power plant underwent a full-scale Fukushima Daiichi meltdown with tens of thousands of casualties, and the United States had accordingly gone careening ahead toward the sustainable future we almost adopted. I may still write that story someday, but that wasn’t what I chose to do this time around.

Partly, of course, that was because Ernest Callenbach was there already forty years ago. Partly, though, it’s because not all the assumptions that undergirded Ecotopia have worn well in the decades since he wrote. It’s become painfully clear that renewable energy sources, valuable and necessary though they are, can’t simply be dropped into place as a replacement for fossil fuels; huge changes in energy use, embracing issues of energy concentration and accessibility as well as sheer quantity, will have to be made as fossil fuels run out and we have to make do with the enduring power sources of sun, wind, water, and muscle. It’s also become clear, painfully or amusingly as the case may be, that the notions that Sausalito intellectuals thought would save the world back in the 1970s—communal living, casual pansexuality, and the like—had downsides and drawbacks that nobody had gotten around to noticing yet, and weren’t necessarily as liberating and transformative as they seemed at the time.

Ecotopia also fell headlong into both of the standard pitfalls of the contemporary liberal imagination. The first of these is the belief that a perfect society can be attained if we can just abolish diversity of ideas and opinions, and get everyone to believe what the affluent liberal intelligentsia think they ought to believe. That’s why I put ongoing controversies between conservative and restorationist blocs into the story.  It’s also, on another level, why I put in repeated references to religious diversity—thus there are people running for public office in the Lakeland Republic who end an oath of office with “So help me Jesus my Lord and Savior,” just as there are military officers there who spend every Sunday at the Greek Orthodox cathedral in Toledo, and politicians who attend the Atheist Assembly.

The second pitfall, which follows from the first, is the belief that since you can’t get “those people” to have the ideas and opinions you think they ought to have, the proper response is to hole up in a self-referential echo chamber from which all unacceptable views are excluded. Ecotopia assumes implicitly that the United States, and by inference the rest of the world’s nations as well, are utterly irredeemable; the nation of Ecotopia thus barricades itself inside its borders and goes its green and merry way, and the climax of the story comes when William Weston decides to stay in Ecotopia and become one of the good people. (He had a significant other back home in the USA, by the way; what she thought of his decision to dump her for a San Francisco hippie chick is nowhere mentioned.)

We’ll be discussing both those pitfalls at length in future posts, not least because they bid fair to exert a massive influence on contemporary politics, especially but not only in the United States. The point I’d like to make here, though, is just how deep the latter habit runs through the liberal end of our collective imagination. I’m thinking here of another powerful and morally problematic work of fiction to come out of the same era, Ursula K. LeGuin’s haunting story “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas.” The core of the story is that there’s a splendid city, Omelas; its splendor depends on the infliction of suffering on one helpless person; now and again, people get upset by this, and leave the city. It’s stunningly well written but evades a crucial question: does walking away do anything to change the situation, or does it just let the ones who walk away from Omelas feel morally superior?

That was one of the reasons why the conclusion of Retrotopia didn’t feature Peter Carr chucking his Atlantic Republic passport and moving in with Melanie Berger. Instead, he caught the train back home, having committed himself to the challenge of trying to move his own country in the direction that the Lakeland Republic has already taken, in the full knowledge that he might not succeed. I had the entire last scene in mind from the beginning of the project, partly as a deliberate challenge to that aspect of Ecotopia, partly because that sort of leap into uncertainty seems much more relevant to our present predicament. We don’t know, any more than Carr did, what lies behind the clouds that hide the future.

Of course the primary difference between Ecotopia and Retrotopia was that my narrative was meant to explore a very different approach from Callenbach’s. He was trying to propose a new, avant-garde, cutting-edge future—it’s often forgotten that the kind of thing Callenbach was talking about really was seen as the next great wave of progress in the 1970s, before the current fad for schizoid withdrawal into a cybernetic Neverland took that title away from it in the 1980s. I’m trying to explore the possibility that going back to what worked is a better idea than plunging forward along a trajectory that leads to no place any sane human being would want to go. He was talking about innovation, while I’m talking about retrovation: the strategy of using the past as a resource for problem-solving in the present.

Retrovation used to be utterly unthinkable in modern industrial societies. At the moment, it’s making the transition from utterly unthinkable to unspeakably heretical—thus another term for it I introduced in a post a while back, the heresy of technological choice—but a lot of people still can’t get their minds around it at all. When I’ve proposed steampunk technology as one model for the future, I’ve inevitably fielded a flurry of comments insisting that you can’t possibly have Victorian technology without child labor and oppressive gender politics—and of course while I was writing Retrotopia, quite a few readers assumed as a matter of course that the tier system in the Lakeland Republic governed every detail of daily life, so that you weren’t allowed to have anything belonging to a post-1830 technological suite if you lived in a tier one county.

Not so. The word I’ve coined for the strategy under discussion, retrovation, is obviously backformed from “retro” + “innovation,” but it’s also “re-trove-ation,” re-finding, rediscovery: an active process of searching through the many options the past provides, not a passive acceptance of some bygone time as a package deal. That’s the strategy the Lakeland Republic puts to use in my narrative, and those of my readers who know their way around the backwaters and odd corners of history may find it entertaining to figure out the sources from which I lifted this or that detail of Retrotopian daily life. The rhetoric of progress, by contrast, rejects that possibility, relies on a very dubious logic that lumps “the past” together as a single thing, and insists that wanting any of it amounts to wanting all of it, with the worst features inevitably highlighted.

I’ve long since lost track of the number of times I’ve been told that rejecting the latest new, shiny, and dysfunctional technology, in favor of an older technology that works, is tantamount to cheerleading for infant mortality, or slavery, or living in caves, or what have you. I’ve sometimes thought that it might be entertaining to turn that around—“if you won’t use a cell phone, you must be in favor of bringing back a balanced global climate!”—or simply taking it in directions a little more absurd than it’s gone already—“if you prefer rail travel to air travel, why, you might as well just restart the Punic Wars!”  In either case, the point that might be made is the silliness of the progress-worshippers’ insistence that the past, or the present, or for that matter the future, is an all-or-nothing deal.

That’s also why, to return to my narrative for a moment, I made a point of showing that the sexual mores of people in the Lakeland Republic didn’t correspond to how people behaved at some point in the past—or, more to the point, the mythical notion of how people behaved in the past that’s been circulated by certain pseudoconservatives in recent decades. Thus industrial magnate Janice Mikkelson is a lesbian with a lovely wife, Peter Carr happens to see two young men who’ve just gotten married on their way to their honeymoon, and when Peter and Melanie go out for dinner and an opera, the evening ends in her bedroom. I know that was uncomfortable for the social and religious conservatives among my readers, but it had to be there, for two reasons.

On the one hand, as a moderate Burkean conservative, I see absolutely no justification for imposing legal restraints on what consenting adults do in the privacy of their own bedrooms, or for that matter in that dimension of the public sphere that pertains to marriage licenses—and, after all, this is my utopia and I’ll permit what I want to.  On the other hand, just as I put devoutly religious people into the story to discomfit the sort of doctrinaire liberals who believe that nobody should follow traditional religious teachings, I put married gay and lesbian people into the story to discomfit the sort of doctrinaire conservatives who believe that nobody should follow contemporary sexual mores. In both cases, the point I hoped to make is that the Lakeland Republic, with its policy of retrovation and its relative comfort with a diversity of ideas and lifestyles, hasn’t gone “backward,” or for that matter “forward,” but off in a direction all its own—a direction that can’t be defined in terms of the monomaniacally linear fixations of the worshippers of progress.

And of course that’s the crucial point, the most important thing that I hope my readers got out of the narrative. At the heart of most of the modern world’s insoluble problems is the faith-based claim that human history is a straight line with no branches or meanders, leading onward and upward from the caves to the stars, and that  every software upgrade, every new and improved product on the shelves, every lurch “forward”—however that conveniently floppy word happens to be defined from day to day by marketing flacks and politicians—therefore must lead toward that imaginary destination.

That blind and increasingly untenable faith, I’ve come to think, is the central reason why the only future different from the present that most people can imagine these days, if it’s not Ecotopia, is either a rehash of the past in every detail or some kind of nightmare dystopia. These days, as often as not, that even extends to science fiction, once our society’s most effervescent cauldron of novel futures. While writing an essay on the genre for a new magazine of science fiction and fantasy, Mythic, it occurred to me—and not for the first time—how few recent works of science fiction seem to be able to portray a future society that isn’t either a straight-line extrapolation from the present, complete with all its most parochial features, a carbon-copy rehash of some specific society of the past, or a smoking wasteland.

Not all that many decades ago, SF authors routinely spun future societies as radically different from ours as ours is from, say, the ancient Maya, but such visions are rare now. I don’t think that’s accidental.  To borrow a metaphor from Retrotopia, when you’ve driven down a blind alley and are sitting there with your bumper pressed against a brick wall, the only way forward starts by backing up—but if you’ve been convinced by your society’s core ideological commitments that “backing up” can only mean returning whole hog to the imaginary, awful past from which the ersatz messiah of progress is supposed to save us, you’re stuck. There you sit, pushing uselessly on the pedal, hearing the engine labor and rattle, and watching the gas gauge move steadily toward that unwelcome letter E; it’s no surprise that after a while, the idea of a street leading somewhere else starts to seem distinctly unreal.

Other futures are possible. Retrotopia isn’t the only option, though I have to say it strikes me as a much more pleasant choice than what we’ve got now, and retrovation isn’t the only tool we need to get us out of that blind alley, though I suspect it’s more useful than a good many of the more popular items in our contemporary toolkit. Still, time will tell—and if my narrative irritates some of my readers enough to get them working on their own, radically different visions of a future that breaks free of the blind alley of linear progress, all the better.
Wikimedia

Ingen elvetid for Grythengen

In the face of multiple converging crises, mere sustainability is no longer enough. Too much damage has already been done. We need to restore ecosystem and community health, and create regenerative systems that allow us to face uncertainty creatively. - Daniel Wahl
I den første tiden for nytt V/A-system etter Kronborgsætergrenda forsøkte jeg å få til en transformasjon av elvestedet Grythengen, men ble møtt med en dørgende stillhet. Nå ser jeg at det er intet annet enn en rekonstruksjon som kan befri stedet. Men ingenting nytter, og det blir ingen ny elvetid for herr Fossemøllens øyensten. Teknokratene er låst i maskintenkningen, politikerne av et fordummende partisystem. Imens griper den store maskinen, AKIS (avanserte konkurranse-industrielle system), stadig hardere om vår jord, på samme vis som den presset livssaften ut av Grythengen.

De to gårdene til herr Fossemøllens sønner, Even Helmer og Johan Albert, ved hhv. Grythengen øverst og Solhaug nederst. Herr Fossemøllen fikk også fem døtre, hvorav Berthe Helene Hermansdatter ble stammor til Nettumsslekta på Bilitt.

På tross av at flere hundre totninger i dag nedstammer fra dette lille bruket i steinrøysa oppunder Totenåsen, synes ikke noen å sørge over at stedet har mistet sin funksjon som kultur- og identitetsbærer.

Som jeg skriver hos Kulturverk:

"I stedet for å styrke og nære våre røtter gjør vi vårt beste for å rive dem opp. Fremskrittet helliger all udåd!"

Wikimedia.

Utvilsomt har økofilosofen Sigmund Kvaløy Setreng passert Grythengen mang en gang, da han tilbrakte sin ungdomstid i Øverskreien, hvor hans far var lærer ved gamle Stange skole. Her gikk jeg selv i søndagsskole, og jeg lærte mer i søndagsskolen enn i de kommende seks årene ved nye Stange skole, en nitrist 70-talls bygning. Trolig var det den deprimerende arkitekturen som kvalte læringslysten.

Gamle Stange skole, hvor jeg gikk i søndagsskole og faren til Setreng var lærer i tegning og formgivning. De bodde i lærerboligen på motsatt side av vegen. Kvaløy benyttet saksa istedenfor spanskrøret ved avstraffelse av elever, ved at han simpelthen klippet av en hårlugg for de som ikke visste å oppføre seg. Sannsynligvis mer effektivt enn en merknad i meldingsboka.

Wikimedia.

Mitt Alhambra på jorden har blitt til inkarnasjonen av maskintenkningens ødeleggende kraft. Hvor man redder verden ved å ødelegge den. Dette fordi vi forveksler kompleksitet med komplikasjon!
I sin økofilosofi er Sigmund Kvaløy Setreng mer radikal enn de fleste miljøtenkere. Mange håper at økt økonomisk vekst, sterkere miljøkontroll, bedre teknologi, internasjonale avtaler og mer forskning skal lede oss ut av krisen. Setreng viser tvert imot hvordan vår samfunnsstyring, vår tenking og vitenskap må lede til krise. Dette fordi vi stadig forveksler to forskjellige former for mangfold – naturens organiske, foranderlige kompleksitet med maskinens mekaniske, statiske komplikasjon. Krisene oppstår fordi vi behandler naturen – og samfunnet og dets mennesker – som om det dreier seg om noe maskin-liknende, i stedet for å føye oss etter naturens rytmer. Filosofisk sett dreier det seg om å forstå den levende, dynamiske tiden som grunndimensjon, ikke det statiske, matematisk beregnelige rommet
Setreng viser hvordan kampen for naturens livsstyrke og for et menneskeverdig liv – retten til personlig mangfold, meningsfylt arbeid, levende lokalsamfunn, ekte demokrati – er to sider av samme sak. Den kampen gir livsmening. Men vi må tørre å la oss rive med av strømmen, av elvetiden, for å finne egne skapende og improviserende evner.
Kjøp boka her

Vekstens tid er forbi

Kommentartråd her.

Å henvise til etterkrigsgenerasjonen og deres lavthengende frukter er nytteløst nå som vi nærmer oss vekstens ytterpunkter. Særlig fra 70-tallet har produktivitetsveksten avtatt. Menneskelig EROEI avtar og profittratene på forbruksvarer faller. Vi nærmer oss en deflasjonskollaps!

- What really causes falling productivity growth — an energy-based explanation

Terje bongard har skrevet boka Det biologiske mennesket, som like gjerne kunne båret tittelen Prosperity Through Cooperation. Entropien i systemet er nå i ferd med å bli farlig stor, vi taper for entropien, i denne sammenheng blir vekst uinteressant.

Denne entropien kan også beskrives som eksterne kostnader, på 50-tallet var disse lite synlige, nå er de i ferd med å kvele oss. Erkedruiden oppsummerer:

a) Every increase in technological complexity tends also to increase the opportunities for externalizing the costs of economic activity;

b) Market forces make the externalization of costs mandatory rather than optional, since economic actors that fail to externalize costs will tend to be outcompeted by those that do;

c) In a market economy, as all economic actors attempt to externalize as many costs as possible, externalized costs will tend to be passed on preferentially and progressively to whole systems such as the economy, society, and the biosphere, which provide necessary support for economic activity but have no voice in economic decisions;

d) Given unlimited increases in technological complexity, there is no necessary limit to the loading of externalized costs onto whole systems short of systemic collapse;

e) Unlimited increases in technological complexity in a market economy thus necessarily lead to the progressive degradation of the whole systems that support economic activity;

f) Technological progress in a market economy is therefore self-terminating, and ends in collapse.

- The Externality Trap, or, How Progress Commits Suicide

Den liberale markedsøkonomien baserer sitt tankegods på den ytterste av evolusjonens fem ringer i vann, men for å få et bærekraftig samfunn må vi få på plass et økonomisk system som opererer innenfor den fjerde evolusjonssirkelen, inngruppa.

En fin oppsummering av profittmotivet fra Joe Brewer:
Joe Brewer: What does it mean to earn a profit in an extractive economy? Simply put, it means to behave like a parasite. All you need do is attach yourself to a nutrient-rich host and suck the value out of it. When the host dies, move on to the next “market opportunity” and never look back.

This logic — the endless hunger to consume and grow — is what drives the global marketplace today. It is a mindset of consumption that chews up communities, steals from the commonwealth of nations, and does not hesitate to destroy the environment. These are considered acceptable byproducts of profit-making in this mindset of insanity.

The sooner we recognize that for-profit entities are designed to behave like cancer in the capitalist economy, the faster we’ll see which rules need to be changed in order to get to the next paradigm. For example, it is helpful to know that modern capitalism began with the Enclosure Movement in Britain as peasant farmers were kicked off their land and forced into wage slavery in nearby factories.

This was accompanied by the first wave of mass poverty in the modern era. It is one part of the Story of Poverty Creation that needs to be told again and again until we dispel the myths of consumerist propaganda that claim all the wealth in the world was created by the industrial capitalist system. Only after these myths are dealt with can we get on with the real work of evolving to whatever comes next for humanity.
Les resten:

- The Parasitic Logic of Profit-Making

bioman.no

Reposter en kommentar fra tidligere i dag:
Ja, de knuste i alle fall hjertebarnet til Bongard!

Ellers har jo Bongard evolusjonens ringer i vann som fronillustrasjon på sin side. Kanskje burde denne illustrasjonen også fronte steigandotno? For det er jo slik at skal vi ha et bærekraftig samfunn må vi bevege oss ut av utgruppesirkelen tilbake til inngruppesirkelen. Håpløsheten med «grønn vekst» er jo nettopp dette at man tror man kan få til bærekraft innenfor konteksten av utgruppe-sirkelen, hvor jo kapitalismen befinner seg ideologisk. Som jeg nettopp skrev i en annen kommentar her:

«Penger kan ta mange former, som Itacha Hour.

Pengene innen IGD ville man kunne se på som en økosystem-andel. Men kanskje ville vi demokratisk bestemme at vi ikke behøvde å arbeide mer enn tre dager per uke. Da ville vi få god tid til å delta i lokale markeder i fri tiden (ikke fritid) hvor vi benyttet lokale valutaer ala Itacha Hour.

Det vil allikevel ikke være pengene som blir limet i samfunnet, slik som i dag, dette vil bli inngruppe-kraften. Se forsida på Bioman, hvor vi beveger oss tilbake fra utgruppe-sirkelen til inngruppe-sirkelen. Skal vi ha et bærekraftig samfunn må vi ha et system som holder oss innenfor inngruppe-sirkelen!»

For de som enda ikke har lyttet til samtalen mellom Steigan og Bongard, søk den opp her:

«Fra massesamfunn til stammesamfunn? Terje Bongard hos NRKs Verdibørsen»

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Dark Age Norway: Climate Change, Cultural Collapse, and the Hard Future Ahead


As the 51st state of USA Norway is a victim of the same mistakes as the US. Our rural and urban cultures are gone, leaving us with a suburban wasteland, making our king confused as a monarch of WHAT???? Climate change will make it difficult to get a stabile crop out of our little fertile soil left, what we have still not covered with asphalt, shopping malls (on top of Europe) or McMansions. The rejection of MEDOSS by The Research Council of Norway has left us in an utterly hopeless situation. 


Preparing for Dark Age Norway?

The image is from Viggadalen Valley, Hadeland.

Wikimedia.

Dark Age America: Climate Change, Cultural Collapse, and the Hard Future Ahead

After decades of missed opportunities, the door to a sustainable future has closed, and the future
we face now is one in which today's industrial civilization unravels in the face of uncontrolled climate change and resource depletion.

Created by

What is the world going to look like when all these changes have run their course? Author John Michael Greer seeks to answer this question, and with some degree of accuracy, since civilizations tend to collapse in remarkably similar ways.

Dark Age America, then, seeks to map out in advance the history of collapse, giving us an idea of what the next 500 years or so might look like as globalization ends and North American civilization reaches the end of its lifecycle and enters the stages of decline and fall.

In many ways, this is John Michael Greer's most uncompromising work, though by no means without hope to offer. Knowing where we're headed collectively is a crucial step in responding constructively to the challenges of the future and doing what we can now to help our descendants make the most of the world we're leaving them.

Published September 2016.

Dark Age America: Review

Suburbiapati

Denne ukas kunstleressay var en fryd å lese, og det skal ikke forundre meg om det var inspirert av mitt essay hos p2p-foundation på lørdag. I alle fall kom Kunstler med følgende oppfordring, som jeg nå har gjort til slagord på toppen av PermaLiv:

We Can Build Compact Walkable Towns Instead of Suburban Wastelands

Les Kunstlers essay:


I disse dager graves det ned kubikkvis med plastrør dypt i grunnen i grenda mi, over Grythengen må de nok på det meste sprenge seg fem meter ned i bakken for å få tilstrekkelig fall på avløpsrørene. Disse får man naturligvis aldri opp igjen, da den suburbane livsstilen raskt går mot en slutt, slik Kunstler beskriver det.

Grythengen, Kronborgsætergrenda, Toten og Norge har blitt forvandlet til et suburbant ødeland, og det norske folk har blitt grepet av suburbiapati. Grythengen var et hellig sted, en kulturbærer, og de suburbane bunkerne plassert rundt omkring i landskapet er en vanhelligelse av stedet, bygget av etterkrigsgenerasjonen, en søppelgenerasjon som brakte den suburbane livsstilen til landet.
De suburbane lever tilkoblet Servoglobus, men frakoblet fra livet!
Den norske identiteten er borte og vi har fått en suburban kvasikultur, det norske folk har blitt suburbiapatiske, lik kloner skapt av General Motors og Edvard Bernays, som implamenterte det suburbane memet i deres bevissthet. Hvilken makt hadde ikke denne mannen, PR-industriens far og nevø av Sigmund Freud! 

Det er denne suburbiapatien som gjør så ingen reagerer på skjendingen av Grythengen og bortfallet av en av landets mest særegne grendekulturer, da det for de suburbiapatiske ikke eksisterer noen annen virkelighet enn den suburbane. Derfor forstår de heller ikke hva Kunstler mener når han skriver:
One way out of this quandary would be to substitute the word “activity” for “growth.” A society of human beings can choose different activities that would produce different effects than the techno-industrial model of behavior. They can organize ten-acre farms instead of cell phone game app companies. They can do physical labor instead of watching television. They can build compact walkable towns instead of suburban wastelands (probably even out of the salvaged detritus of those wastelands). They can put on plays, concerts, sing-alongs, and puppet shows instead of Super Bowl halftime shows and Internet porn videos. They can make things of quality by hand instead of stamping out a million things guaranteed to fall apart next week. None of these alt-activities would be classifiable as “growth” in the current mode. In fact, they are consistent with the reality of contraction. And they could produce a workable and satisfying living arrangement.
Grythengen og grenda mi kunne ha blitt rekonstruert og de suburbane kunne ha bosatt seg i et gangbart, nytt urbant miljø nede ved Skreia. Slik gjorde generasjonen før etterkrigsgenerasjonen det, av sønnene til herr Fossemøllens eldste sønn bosatte to av dem seg som kjøpmenn i urbane miljøer, hhv. på Skreia (der Mistereggen holdt hus) og på Bøverbru, og de to andre ble gårdbrukere. Å bli suburban var naturligvis en umulighet før strømkabelen, bilen, vann- og avløpsrøret. De suburbane lever tilkoblet Servoglobus, men frakoblet fra livet!

Det er veldig trist at vi fortsetter som om alt var som før. Det suburbane vil dø, først sakte, så raskt. Richard Heinberg hos PCI postet også en innertier av et essay i går, som veldig godt utfyller Kunstlers essay.

Since the Industrial Revolution, the dominant method employed by forecasters has been to extrapolate recent trends forward in time—trends which, due to the availability during this period of cheap, abundant energy, have been mostly in the directions of economic growth and technological progress. With the advent of coal, oil, and natural gas, industrial societies were able to build a middle class, create jobs, extract and process raw materials in ever-greater amounts, make a cascading array of consumer products, and transport people and goods in quantities, and at speeds and distances, never previously imaginable. Sanitation and health care improved dramatically, lowering the human death rate and helping spur the greatest population expansion in the history of our species.
For planners, it seemed eminently sensible to align a ruler with these upward-sloping lines on graphs and extend them out a few more inches, indicating years or decades of yet more growth and progress (yes, I know, the process was more complicated that this—but not much). The method produced moderately accurate forecasts. Moreover, forecasters were applauded, as most people would very much like to think that growth and progress can indeed be maintained for the foreseeable future, since failure to do so would imply shattered dreams and expectations.

However, during the past 40 years experts who study ecology, climate, population, resource depletion, and debt dynamics have pointed out that recent growth trends simply cannot go on much longer; instead, a reckoning with natural limits will almost certainly occur during the course of this century. Followers of each relevant discipline have pointed out dire consequences that will ensue if policy makers do not implement certain course corrections, such as population stabilization and decline, rapid carbon emissions reductions, and habitat conservation on a vast scale.

In the main—that is, aside from the adoption of a few important but non-transformative environmental regulations—society has failed to correct course, and so dire and multivalent consequences should now be expected. If the more conservative estimates of planetary limits are approximately correct, we should anticipate a future that is profoundly challenging; one characterized by societal disintegration and ecosystem failure. In the very worst case, the extinction of most animal and plant species, including humans, is conceivable. And the downward slide will begin soon, if it has not already done so.
En dag jeg var ute og gikk  kom jeg over dette feltet med parkslirekne ved Krabyskogen. På Toten dukker denne meget aggressive invasive arten nå opp overalt, og kan lage tepper på flere hundre kvadratmeter, hvorunder alt liv kveles.

På bildet er en liten bestand av den gamle kulturplanten geitrams i ferd med å kveles under parkslirekneen. Geitrams var ettertraktet for for dyrene, den er viktig for humler, bier og andre insekter, den er vakker og har svært stivelsesrike røtter som ved koking er ypperlige som menneskeføde. I det hele tatt er den en berikelse på alle områder.

Hva som plutselig slo meg da jeg betraktet denne lille geitramsbestanden er at her har vi en ypperlig allegori på Grythengens skjebne.

"Herr Fossemøllens øyensten" var en berikelse for kulturlandskapet på alle mulige måter, stedet ga næringsrik mat, det opprettholdt skjønnheten som grendas velkomstsportal, og stedet var en kultur- og historiebærer.

Men nå har noe fremmedartet og rart, det suburbane eller mer korrekt det subeksurbane, kvalt kulturstedet Grythengen, likesom parkslirekneen ovenfor er i ferd med å kvele kulturplanten geitrams.

Wikimedia.

Monday, September 19, 2016

Miss Reynolds is Totally Ignorant!

Good examples for strengthening of health!

Here however, is a bummer of an article: https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2016/sep/16/bad-buildings-damage-mental-health-research-anxiety-depression

Salingaros' judgement:
Again, a missed opportunity. Michael and I have written explanations of WHY buildings and environments are unhealthy. This reporter, Miss Reynolds, is totally ignorant of that work and asks other people in the architectural establishment who have no clue either.

This profound ignorance is getting to be ridiculous.

Cheers,
Nikos
Do you wish that Norway again shall have an informed architecture supported by science? Please support:

I am convinced that humanity's salvation lies in the correct application of scientific theory to architecture. Furthermore, I argue that the so-called "theory" used up until now is just cult doctrine and ideology, which is what has destroyed our culture. Nikos A. Salingaros
The cafè building at Ramme Gaard is signalling healthy principles of architecture, and should be an inspiration for the Sustainable Institute of the new Hurdal Urban Village! It has together with the rest of the farm undergone a massive restoration, and opens again next year (2017). Here you can enjoy fresh ecological food from the farm.

The park of the farm is one of the hidden wonders of Norway. It's a kind of baroque New Age - garden full of eastern mysticism and Norwegian fairytales. Don't miss it!

Please, politicians of Hurdal, book a guiding now and go here for inspiration next summer!

Wikimedia.

Flickr.

HUMAN RESOURCES Social Engineering In The 20th Century

Småbrukernasjonen Norge

I 1801 hadde Skottland 1,6 millionar innbyggjarar, Noreg 0,9 millionar. I 1825 hadde Skottland 350.000 sysselsette i industrien, Noreg berre 17.000. I 1819 hadde vi 94.000 gardsbruk, færre enn Skottland. I 1951 hadde skottane 750.000 tilsette i industrien og Noreg 358.000. I 1959 hadde talet på norske gardsbruk kome opp i 345.000 medan landbruket var så godt som utrydda i Skottland. I dag er det langt fleire nordmenn enn skottar, og vi har også langt fleire industriarbeidsplassar. Kvifor gjekk det slik, har Ottar Brox skrive om i boka På vei mot et postindustrielt klassesamfunn?
Før jordskiftereformen i 1859 var Norge i stor grad et land bestående av klyngetun og landsbyer. Jordskiftereformen var inspirert av de amerikanske settlerne, som hentet sin tenkning fra John Loche. Ironisk nok bygget Knut Hamsun sitt storverk Markens grøde på en idealisering av settlertankegangen, han som hatet yankeene så intenst. Hamsuns bok var utvilsomt med på å dyrke fram den særegne bureisningen som fant sted rundt krigen, samt idealiseringen av småbrukerlivet, som enda ligger dypt forankret i den norske folkesjela.

Etter krigen og fram til vår tid er det General Motors med Edvard Bernays som har hatt størst innflytelse på formingen av bygdenorge. Norge har nå blitt et suburbant ikke-land og vi har hverken igjen rural eller urban kultur, kun en suburban ikke-kultur. I denne situasjonen er det sannelig ikke rart at kongen har begynt å tale innholdsløst svada, som overhode for en nasjon uten integritet og substans.

Vi har blitt en nasjon uten forståelse for vår fortid som en småbrukernasjon, noe man aller best kan se ved behandlingen av et av nasjonens viktigste småbruk, elvebruket Grythengen i Øverskreien på Toten, som også var inngangsportalen til en av landets mest særegne grendekulturer. En nasjon som lar en av sine viktigste kultur- og identitetsbærere forfalle til en subeksurban vits, er ikke lenger verdig å kalles en nasjon!

En av Norges mange låver, eller som de så flott formulerer det i Harvest: "I DISSE BYGNINGENE LIGGER NORGES HJERTE".

Ved elvebruket Grythengen derimot foretrekker totningene, teknokrater så vel som byråkrater, å erstatte låven med et pumpehus. Det eneste som har verdi for dem er Totenbunkeren.

Wikimedia.

Grythengen hadde en særlig stilling som elvebruk etter Olterudelva, faktisk kan jeg ikke komme på noe bruk på Toten som i tilsvarende grad var del av en elvekultur. På bildet ser vi hvor skolvhjulet satt, hvortil vannet ble ledet fra herr Fossemøllens ruindam. Her etablerte hans sønn Johan sin første av tre trevarebedrifter, om det var mølle her før dette er uvisst?

Min misjon på jorden var å bevare Grythengen som elvebruk, for slik å videreformidle en viktig del av vår felles kulturarv som småbruker- og elvenasjon. Skolvhjulet og ruindammen ville jeg selvsagt satt i stand igjen hvis min rolle som kulturbærer var blitt respektert.

Flickr.

Relatert:

Sunday, September 18, 2016

When the Moors Ruled Europe: Documentary (full)

Generalife, the summer palaces and gardens of Granada's emirs, with one of its many fountains.

Wikimedia.



(My article from Granada in Kulturverk, a Norwegian blog about Deep Ecology)

Mitt Alhambra

Kjære lesere!

Sommeren er tilbrakt ved herr Fossemøllens øyensten, og i den sammenheng har det blitt til noen utilsiktede essay og strøtanker (Se oversikt nederst her). Enkelt er sendt til KVs redaksjon, men da de neppe matcher Herr Fossemøllens øyensten skal det vel noe til at de kommer opp? Allikevel, for et utdypende bilde om tapet av en kultur, et sted og en identitet er de nyttige.

Hvordan skal jeg kunne fortsette å leve på Toten etter denne sommeren? Den siste tilstrammingen rundt Grythengens hals av AKIS jernneve er nært forestående, det er kun dager til gravingen tar til og de kommer med pumpehuset sitt nedenfor der brønnen var. Merk at det skal skrives Grythengen, ikke Gryteengen som i KV-artikkelen og hos kartverket.

Herr Fossemøllens sønne-sønne-sønnesønns datter sitter her ved det faste utsiktspunktet hennes i sommer, ved grunnmuren til den gamle låven der kjørbrua gikk opp. Nedenfor henne kommer snart pumpehuset. I nedre venstre hjørne lå tidligere brønnen, og hadde vi fått leve i fred med vår rurale identitet ville denne kunnet gi oss reint vann til evig tid. Vaskedammen lå etter brønnen, hvor de vasket klærne, rett nedenfor der hun sitter.

Slik blir pumpehuset stående som et symbol på seieren over våre rurale verdier, til stor glede for teknokratene og de subeksurbane. Personlig velger jeg imidlertid å se på det som et gravmonument, og har nedtegnet følgende gravskrift:

"Her hviler en særegen grendekultur som nådde sitt høydepunkt under de rurale gigantene og husmannssønnene ved de to engene etter Kronborgsætergrenda, Totenåsens apostel Magnus Johansen Dahl og hans trofaste disippel ved Grythengen. Jeg, den siste fossemølling, rekker dere ikke opp til anklene. Deres kultur, den rurale, er tråkket ned i søla og overtatt av en subeksurban, amerikansk søppelkultur. De subeksurbanes drøm ble mitt mareritt. Jeg håper vår store far i Himmelen skjermer dere for hva det har blitt av grenda deres og engene deres, hvis ikke vet jeg at dere bøyer deres hoder i skam, og forstår at jeg og mine etterkommere ikke kan leve med denne skammen. Måtte dere be sammen med meg om at vår Gud sender skjøgen Servoglobus ned i Helvetets dyp og knuser ethvert bein i hennes kropp, skjelettet AKIS (avanserte konkurranse-industrielle system) som holder henne oppreist."

Wikimedia.

I sommer har jeg kommet meget nær mine forfedre og Totenåsens apostel, som holdt til her i grenda. Kulturen etter grenda mi var unik også i nasjonal sammenheng. Men det er selvsagt for seint å vinne den tilbake, det er like nytteløst for meg å stå opp mot AKIS jernklør som det var for maurerne å stå opp mot kastiljanernes kanoner. Boabdil, den siste emir av Granada, forlot derfor frivillig sitt elskede Alhambra for å unngå utslettelsen. På samme vis forlater jeg Grythengen, bare med den forskjellen at alt her vil forsvinne, da totningene ikke ser ut til å ønske å bevare minnene av den kulturen som blomstret opp under Totenåsens apostel.

Fikk jeg valget mellom Alhambra i sin storhetstid og Grythengen i sin storhetstid, ville jeg valgt husmannsplassen Grythengen.

Wikimedia.

Derfor håper jeg hurdølingene vil ta vel imot oss, og at de vil hjelpe meg til å kunne ta vare på restene av den kulturen som vokste fram i fotefarene til Totenåsens apostel? Med tida får jeg kanskje mulighet til å lede pilegrimsfølger over fra Hurdal, for å fortelle dem om denne særegne grendekulturen som visnet vekk under mine føtter. Og på samme vis som Boabdil vendte seg og gråt da hans elskede Alhambra forsvant bak ham ved  Alpujarras-passet, vil jeg snu meg og felle en tåre hver gang mitt elskede Grythengen forsvinner sammen med pilegrimsfølget ned til Nygardsæterdammen og over mot Kolbu.

En tåre for Grythengen, mitt Alhambra.

Wikimedia.

Hilsen den siste fossemølling

Village Towns

Vandana Shiva, an internationally recognized Indian activist and philosopher, explains that planning for the human being rather than the automobile can liberate space and create community within a city. In her opinion, a sustainable city should operate as a self-reliant and self-sufficient cluster of villages.

Friday, September 16, 2016

Fløytenbrua på Totenåsen

Fløytenbrua på Totenåsen, mellom Vesle- og Store Fløyta. Over denne brua red jeg og min far med hest for 23 år siden. Den gang tok vi mange fine bilder, men da vi kom hjem viste det seg at det ikke var film i kameraet.

Publisert i Menighetsbladet for Hoff - Nr. 3 - 2016 - Årgang 60, side 2. (pdf)

(Illustrasjon til teksten "Den hellige allmenningen" av Klara Myhre.)

Publisert som dagens bilde i Oppland Arbeiderblad fredag 27. september 2013.

Klikk i bildet for en forstørrelse.

Se bildet hos Wikimedia.

Hos Flickr.
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