There was a moment here while doing some early morning work on the Utopian when I realized that there was a definite difference between the creative work and the bureaucratic structural work. When thinking about writing projects, it’s almost always a flash of an idea and then the tedium of doing the job. The same is true for gardening. The idea doesn’t take up very much time. It’s all of the make work that does us in in the end.

This morning’s work was a lot of photographing and cutting and pasting and resizing and reconsidering and repositioning. When I was finished, I have a lovely color magazine with an interesting style decision. I love the color in these photographs that go along with the continuing saga of the crew of the scout class vessel in the futurist screenplay Paradise and the reimagining of the handwritten children’s book, A Wealth of Friends.

Maybe these are creative decisions. Maybe all of this staring at pictures and deciding if the aesthetics and the feng shui held water is artistic. It’s definitely feminine. This part of the job is definitely feminine and in the future, in a more utopian future, they’re will in fact be a beautiful woman doing this exact job that takes up so much fucking time that I would rather spend writing.

The issue behind all of this is the residue of slavery. How many years of diligence for this moment? How many years of being careful or carelessly careful had to be spent to get here? How much work, how many hours, how many days and weeks and months and years of work?

I’m thinking about this and I’m writing this beautiful blog entry advertising our newspaper and even the reopening and reimagining of green2021.org, the green 2021 project! A project I simply physically could not bring myself to do because of the weight of the world against me to produce a work about ecology. The world simply fights me to death stopping me from telling the truth that they are destroying the planet irrevocably and everything beautiful in it.

I’m saying this because after a couple of hours of early morning work, visually creative or not, my neighbor left their house in their car and both the rumble of the machine and the poisonous gas cloud that it left behind entered my little sanctuary where I had been doing all of this work. I left the bunker. I’ve moved in to my summer office because the light is better and the air is better and it’s a lovely place to get out of the heat on a hot day. Except I have a neighbor who spoils every single beautiful day of trying to enjoy fresh air, the sound of birds and wind and rain and perhaps even my own thoughts. They do this 7 days a week. There is not a single day of their lives that do not give to their mania. There is not a single day lived that they would ever choose to allow their bodies and minds to rest and heal and maybe dream. It’s not death. It’s freedom.

I started understanding this when I agreed that the human species was built to be a herbivore. It has been corrupted and our thinking distorted by our unnecessary habit of scavenging and enslaving other animals. This is no longer unnecessary evil of survival. We no longer need these wet practices. We can go back to the garden, to a more peaceful time when all we needed to eat was the plants. In fact, we are such smart animals, we can build ourselves a habitat and eat as we like year-round using nothing but the wind and the Sun and the movement of the water to give us our computers and our devices and our science and medicine and entertainment. We can cheat a little with some electricity generated sustainably and without the use of pollutants such as petroleum products.

No more cars, we don’t need them. No more wars, we don’t need them. No more hate for our brothers and sisters or our brother species, we don’t need it. It’s all a waste of money and time. It’s just more slavery in the hysterical pursuit of murdering ourselves and every other living thing we can see. We don’t need this. The world is better without it and so are we.

The cover picture of this post is of a herbivore living its life. Maybe you should think like a herbivore. Try it. Maybe you’ll like it. His name is Stan.