Our ascendant sense of values, in which I fully allow to enter to participating (in the face my relevant hard work to decry my involvement) is wreaking disorder on this “peakish unhappy dot” we call Loam. Weather metamorphosis, seldom met with and tainted the highest, captivating levels of toxins in the setting, flourishing consumerism that generates truckloads of smelly decline per moment, whopping deforestation, and the Sixth Extinction[1] associate Homo sapiens, and our socioeconomic/cultural put up we euphemistically call “sophistication,” as nothing offhand of the living incarnation of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Our species, by purity of our selected ways of interfacing with the cosmos, personifies Termination, Exiguity, War, and Curse. Undeterred by our numerous exemplary attributes and endeavors, humankind specializes in bloodshed, commotion, abject immorality, genocide, ecocide, and all method of massacre.

Gaia, the World, is our origin and we are delightful in matricide against her. Nonhuman natural world are our brethren, and we are attractive in fratricide against them. Intentionally or not, we are on surely to emulate Orestes and Cain. As a seriously effective vegan and a practitioner of my own eclectic spirituality–in which I over nonhuman natural world and the Globe to be sacrosanct–this disturbs me in a complete way. Yet I find cheer in the episode that Mama Dirt was here prolonged before our species became an infestation and that unless we radically metamorphose our method of continuation, She will eradicate us like the deadly pests that we are.

Whether we scantiness to accept it or not, practically all of our psyches have been twisted, base and, in some instances, pulverized to the tract that we live and in some of the most peculiar lies that an unbiased and normal be sure could conceive of, were such an beholder somehow adept to expressly untangle themselves from the tapestry of self-deceptions we call “genuineness.” Our inculcation is so Davy Jones's locker, the wound to our beaten psyches so titanic, and the pray of urban sophistication’s fascinating assumed and pernicious comforts so fervid that many populace parapet their minds from the accuracy with a brand of compelling unconscious ramparts, including flange, ad hominem attacks, taunt and gibe, unwilling-intellectualism, appeals to custom, distortion, rationalization and a body of others.

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