The science of the nineteenth century was dominated by the perfectibility of knowledge. Fueled by the analytic/systematic distinction provided by Kant, the European thinkers of the day were bent on elucidating all the empirical rules that governed the universe. Even if the universe was infinite everything was potentially knowable and humans were capable of detached observation that could elucidate and name all these facts and rules.
For the first four months of 2010 I spent a great deal of time trying to elucidate, as a member of the pos-post-modernist era (an era so ill-defined we haven’t gotten around to naming it yet), what a political ecology means. Beyond just defining this broad term, I had tasked myself with building it particularly in the context of social problems such as crime, abuse, poverty and homelessness. The ecological enters from my faith based belief that the formula for human happiness includes an inextricable coupling of the natural and artificial worlds.
Life is a cheese pie; all your favourite things, just never quite the right way. Scratch that. Life is like a tennis ball, soft and smooth and always on the rebound. Wait, that was my ex. Okay, we’ve got it here: Life is like a box of 1969 chocolates: stale, mouldy, and best when consumed with THC? (Speaking anecdotally, of course.)
“For questioning is the piety of thought.”