Ultimate Recycling: The Beer Can House

This is Houston's famous "Beer Can House." Yes. It is a house made of beer cans. And yes, it is strangely, ethereally beautiful.

Saturday Interweb Round-up

Ah ... home.

There are productive things I need to do. I desperately need to clean my closets and unpack my suitcase and renew my vehicle registration. And there are productive things I want to do, like make a skirt and look at apartments for a spring trip to Barcelona and read this week's EdWeek. Instead, I spent a good part of today catching up with all of the TV shows on my DVR and spending some quality time on the internet. Sometimes, vegetating has to come first.

Here's some fun stuff I came across in internet land:

• Ever wondered what your carbon footprint is? There are lots of fun online calculators to help you figure it out. I would love to say that mine is lower than average ... and it is, until I add in the number of flights I have to take for work. Then my footprint jumps up. Where's a transporter beam when you need one?
• The Huffington Post Green section has great slideshows, and many of them don't preach at you, but just try to get you to marvel at the natural world. Check out their slideshow of "Adorable or Ugly" animals and see the craziness that evolution (and humans' ability to breed animals for certain qualities, such as hairlessness) produces.
• Halloween is just around the corner. Want to make a statement about the environment? The New York Times featured a BP oil spill-themed costume last week. If you want to be really green, you could make your own from thrift store duds.
• The oil spill has been making its mark on TV as well. On CBS's The Good Wife, our favorite ethically-compromised barristers drop a mention that they're defending BP. While on Community, a fundraiser to help the Gulf goes hilariously awry (Click here to watch the whole episode). This week's 30 Rock also featured shenanigans involving the NBC recycling bins. Green culture - taking over TV!

And finally ...

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Tiny Triumphs - Environmentalist Ear Pollution
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes 2010 Election March to Keep Fear Alive

Live Together, Die Alone

Or, In Which Catfish Explicates a Tenuous Connection Between Lost, Community, and the green movement.

I remember one time, as we were leaving the movies, when my mom said something like: "I like stories where a bunch of different kinds of people become a family."

I don't remember what movie she was talking about, but I certainly remember her statement. And I thought, I like those stories too.

Lately, I've been watching back episodes of the show Community (which I wrote about recently). I watched it all year, but I've been re-evaluating it in terms of the Lost credo: Live together, die alone. OK, so no one on Community is going to die alone (at least, I hope not, because that would be an AWFUL sitcom), but the show does explore the idea that when thrown together, disparate individuals can become a quasi-family. And this quasi-family can make one consider capital-O Others in a way you never would have before.

Lost, which had its series finale last night, more seriously addressed the same theme. When we are stuck together (on a freaky island, on an airplane, in Los Angeles) the need for survival allows our basic humanity to overcome our differences. We know we have to die alone; so in the meantime, we'd rather live together.

Lost is known to be mind-bending. Confusing. Weird. But those of us who watched it for years didn't do so just so we could figure out the puzzles. We did so because we were drawn into the story of human connection. Disparate individuals -- some not even speaking the same language -- becoming a quasi-family.

So many of the stories we're presented (especially on TV) are about people who are basically similar (from Friends and How I Met Your Mother, to 30 Rock and Grey's Anatomy) and how they deal with subtle differences in personality. But there are a few stories being told in which the larger human differences (race, class, nationality) are addressed and OUR HEROES still manage to realize they are a family.

The philosopher Alphonso Lingis writes of these random connections thusly: "We were on opposite extremities of humanity, linked by no culture, language, faith, enterprise, race, blood, or age. Across these most remote distances he had come to put his life in the place of my death. This substitution across the unmediated distances seemed to me to seal a bond of the most extreme kind, an absolute bond ..."

I want more of these stories about absolute human bonds. More stories where a bunch of people who don't even believe in the same God have to mutually save each other. More stories where American TV has to have subtitles because the characters don't speak the same language, but live next door to one another. More stories where smoke monsters chase people through the bamboo ... wait. That doesn't have anything to do with my point. More stories about the places where we all come together.

Ultimately, it is by learning the lessons of these stories, both silly and serious, that we will learn that we're all responsible for one another. Until that happens, I'm afraid our green movement can't get far.

Weekend Interweb Round-up

I love the weekend - sitting around, drinking coffee, wasting WAY too much time on the internet. Here are a few of my recent internet finds:

• Lots of people have asked me where I got the stone paper notebook that I wrote about in August. The answer is Walgreen's, but I haven't found any stone paper there since I originally bought the notebook. (In case you're wondering, stone paper is usually made with limestone that's a by-product from other manufacturing processes and uses much less water than normal tree paper). However, today at Target, I found lovely stone paper notebooks (decorated with an adorable floral motif) for sale, as well as banana paper, and regular recycled notebooks. Go, Target! I tried to find them online for you, but they didn't seem to have them. If you want one, you'll have to go to your local Target. However, Walgreen's online is selling stone paper notebooks online now.
• The New Yorker has a short piece on the size of the Transocean oil spill, accompanied by some eye-opening flyover video. And if watching that video bums you out, I recommend you head over to the Oceana website. Oceana is a non-profit that works to protect the world's oceans and marine wildlife. On their website, you can sign a petition to stop off-shore drilling, donate to the cause, or find out about other ways to help. While efforts to staunch the flow of oil continue to fail, making those of us in the greenosphere feel helpless, it's good to be able to do something, even if it's just to send some money through PayPal. (In case you're wondering, Oceana has a four-star rating from Charity Navigator).
• Speaking of Charity Navigator, I've come to love this website! It rates charities by how efficient and effective they are. They have dedicated a page to organizations that are helping address the oil spill. Check them out, and you'll find lots of great organizations that are working to solve problems that might spark you compassion.
• With all of this depressing news, you might want to cheer up. If so, I recommend watching the "Modern Warfare" episode of NBC's Community. This doesn't have anything to do with being green, really (although the show's themes of whether morality is subjective or objective, and what that means for us as beings who live in community with one another, is inherently of interest to greenies). I just think you should watch it. This episode was filmed as an "action movie" (taking place during an epic game of paint ball), and was even directed by action director Justin Lin. The half-hour is pure comedy genius, both celebrating and satirizing the action movie cliches that so many of us grew up with. It's amazingly shot, hilarious, and -- who'd have thought Joel McHale had those guns?

What have you found on the interweb lately?

The Squirrel and the Mockingbird

Three Short Stories with Interpretation

Since last weekend, when I wrote the Tell Me a Story post (if you haven't read that one yet, you may want to before this one), I've been thinking a lot about what else I wanted to say on the subject of story-telling and living green. Note, I usually try not to be too preachy or too long-winded, but this might be a little of both. Luckily, I've got stories to go along with the philosophizing!

Story 1

Ethics

When I was twenty or so, I took a brief sojourn into community college, after some hasty decisions left me without college money for a year. I loved community college, and there I took the hardest two classes of my life, taught by Dr. C.

One of those classes was Ethics. All quarter, we learned about different theories trying to explain why some actions are considered right and others wrong. We hung out with the Stoics, pondered with Alyosha from Karamazov, took leaps of faith with Kierkegaard, and took dutiful walks with Kant. We considered ethics of utility (Mill) and the ethics of fellow feeling (Hume). The class was difficult, and by the end I think only about six of us showed up regularly. The final day, we were scheduled to have our finals returned, and Dr. C. told us we could ask him whatever we wanted about ethics, even ask him which philosophy he believed in. He passed out the finals, and then asked if we had any questions. We did -- oh... I'm sure we did. We all wanted to know what the dry-humored Dr. C. realy believed. But all six of us were mute with anxiety. Why? I have no idea. After a long silence, Dr. C. said that if we didn't have any questions, we could go. He picked up his things. Just before he hit the door, he turned to us and said: "It's Hume, by the way."

And he walked out.

If you were to ask me what I believe about why some things are right and some are wrong, I would say -- I believe in stories. As I wrote about in my previous post, we seem to be primed (by nature or nurture, I don't know) to favor stories that fit a sort of universal structure -- known as a story grammar by researchers. I think we determine right and wrong by whether we can fit actions into a story grammar.

Our whole legal system is based on this idea. Two opposing sides tell stories, and the one who tells the story that best conforms to certain principles is the one that's judged "true." As a society, we don't really seem to believe in absolutes. I mean, we say we do. We say that killing is bad, that stealing is wrong. But if I can tell you a story that makes sense ("I stole the bread because my babies are starving") I'm likely to be forgiven. If my story doesn't make sense ("I stole the bread because I was making a bread sculpture"), I get the book thrown at me.

OK, Catfish, I bet you're thinking. This little lecture from you scholarly days is all well and good. But what about living green?

That brings us to ...

Story 2

The Lorax and the Truax

Once upon a time, a beloved children's author wrote a book called The Lorax. The lorax is about a magical creature who tries to save a forest from devastation, and he speaks the unforgettable words "I am the Lorax I speak for the trees. I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues." Children loved the book, but when some folks in the timber industry realized the book had an environmental message, they became incensed with the suggestion that clear-cutting and over-consumption might be bad. The book was banned in libraries in some timber communities.

But they realized that just keeping the story of the Lorax from the children was not enough. The only way to fight the truth of a story is to provide a counter-story. So several timber industry groups got together to fund that story. It's called The Truax. In it, a wise logger tells a foolish creature named Guardbark about all of the good that logging can do. Now teachers have an alternative to share with students who might be swayed by the Lorax's call to stop over-consumption!

The Truax is not a good book (it's also implicitly racist in its caricature of Guardbark, but that's a matter for another time.) And I don't think it will ever outsell Dr. Seuss's read-aloud classic, The Lorax, especially since it's free. However, it represents something that I think anti-environmentalists do much better than we do: control the narrative.

The Lorax makes narrative sense. It is simple and clear. Any kid, reading it, would think - hey, cutting down all the trees is bad. We should not do that. I used to read it to my students, and they usually got the message of the story without much prompting. That's the power of narratives that fit the story grammar embedded between our ears. We hear the messages, loud and clear.

The people who wrote The Truax knew that, and so they set about attempting to control the narrative. In the case of Lorax v. Truax, it's one simple story against another. However, much of the time, anti-environmentalists are telling simple, clear stories with obvious messages (Scientists who study global warming are liars who falsify data, thus they cannot be trusted; Protecting America is the most important thing and for that we need oil, even if oil rigs sometimes blow up; environmentalists hate America and want you to be deprived of your right to consume whatever you want) -- they're telling a children's story. On the other side, we, the greenies, are trying to tell a story that's more like a Quentin Tarantino movie. We're presenting evidence from multiple sources, projected timelines, using historical data, and asking you to radically change your ways while excusing the fact that there might have been some shady emailing going on in East Anglia. While I think a story of subtlety and nuance better represents the world we live in, it doesn't have the feeling of "rightness" that a simpler story, with clear cause-and-effect, does.

Story 3

The Squirrel and the Mockingbird, or

Zen in the City

So yesterday, I went for a walk and heard a commotion above me. I saw a squirrel running along a wire. And then I realized that the squirrel was being chased by a mockingbird. The mockingbird was flying loopy-de-loops, like Snoopy the World War I flying ace, dodging over and under the squirrel, chirrupping and pecking away. The squirrel leaped for a tree and for a moment I lost sight of them in the leaves, which shook as the mockingbird continued to dive bomb. A moment later, the squirrel emerged from the tree on another wire. He kept running. The mockingbird continue to lay chase.

So, who's the squirrel? Who's the mockingbird? And is it better to be a squirrel or a mockingbird?

So, we're the squirrel. We know what we want. We just want to run on the wire and get where we're going (protect the earth. Avoid global catastrophe). But there's a damn mockingbird pecking at us. It's making us veer off course. We're doing dumb stuff, like agreeing to more offshore drilling as part of a "comprehensive" energy plan. We look like jerks, because we suggest that the oil spill might be good because it's a wake up call. We confuse people, because we don't answer simple questions, like, "Paper or plastic?" without a lot of hemming and hawing and jargon. And it's happening because we're refusing to control the narrative. We just keep running, but we never really get anywhere.

Instead of continuing to run, it's time to turn around and punch that mockingbird in the face.

We need to buck up, and start telling our story. It's a good one, and if we tell it correctly, it fits the story grammar. It's a story that any kid can understand: Cause: Our lifestyle means chemicals, trash, manufacturing by-products and other sludge are filling the air, water, and land. We change the surface of the earth. Effect: Turtles are choking. Kids have asthma. World temperatures are rising. Polar bears are drowning. People are dying in floods, famines, and hurricanes. Solution: We have to change our lifestyle so that others don't die.

Until we're willing to come right out and say what's going on, no one's going to change. If my story is, I'm going to choose a plastic bag because it doesn't make much of a difference anyway... well, I won't do anything differently. But if my story is this: I chose a plastic bag and my plastic bag just choked a turtle -- well, why wouldn't I at least try to change? Unless I hated turtles. But come on. Turtles are cute.

Coming up: Whew! OK, now that I'm done with that, I'll be back to my usual fun-loving, DIYing, cooking self. Expect more meatless recipes, some macabre decor tips, and a green summer beverage round-up!

Tell Me a Story ...

People who know me well, know that -- along with clowns and food fights -- fictional anthropomorphic animals are some of my least favorite things. (Talking raccoons dressed as clowns having a food fight? I shudder just thinking of it). Lately I've been mentally harassed by the ad for a family movie called Furry Vengeance, in which animals seek revenge on Hollywood's least-discriminating actor, Brendan Fraser. Apparently, Fraser's character is a real estate developer who is going to destroy the homes of a bunch of woodland creatures ... but then they decide to fight back.

Don't worry. I am not going to go see this movie. One thing about it does intrigue me, however. (No, it's not the fact that in the trailer, Fraser screams "Miley Cyrus!", instead of swearing, when a boulder almost hits his car. Like Fraser's character, I always have time for a pop culture reference when my life is in danger.)

What intrigues me is that this movie is the second to be produced with money from a partnership between two companies called Participant Media and Imagenation Abu Dhabi, through which they seek to make movies that are socially responsible and commercially viable, particularly those with an environmental bent. The partnership's first film was The Crazies, a remake of a 1970's George Romero horror flick about a toxin that makes people, well, crazy.

Why is this idea so great? I mean, the movies that have come from this partnership are hardly Oscar-caliber. And I think that's what I like. These two companies aren't trying to make "message movies" that will put people to sleep. They're trying to scare us or make 8-year-old boys laugh when Brendan Fraser gets hosed in the groin by a raccoon. By slipping the messages in with the pitchfork-wielding zombies and dancing squirrels, these filmmakers are harnessing the human brain's natural affinity for traditional narrative styles.

Excuse me for a moment while I get geeky on you.

In 1977, two cognitive psychologists named Mandler and Johnson published a study that basically said that we remember stories better if they conform to a traditional structure than if the stories subvert that structure. In other words, when we see the basic good guy-bad guy genre piece, we'll remember it more clearly than we will an artsy French movie in which the action unfolds backward and all of the characters are ambiguous. One isn't better than the other, it's just a consequence of the early environment in which stories were passed along orally.

You may have noticed (if you read every word in this blog obsessively) that a few posts have the tag "Green Narrative." That's what I decided to call it when the stories in our society are tinged with green -- when a body in an episode of Bones is found in an energy-efficient washer, or when a blockbuster movie about blue aliens is undergirded with an environmental message (but click here to read what I think of that particular narrative). Ultimately, I think that the trend toward greening up our narratives -- especially our genre narratives -- has much more potential to change the way people think than any opinion piece in Grist or The Huffington Post.

I'll tell you one story about why I think that if this trend continues, minds are going to slowly change. When I was a kid, I loved Scooby Doo. In fact, one of my favorite dresses was my "Daphne dress" because - duh - it looked like Daphne's. Now, on Scooby Doo, almost all of the villains are real estate developers, polluters, and the like. Basically, they used fake hauntings to try to get cheap land for their nefarious ends.

To this day, I think of real estate developers as creeps. Of course, many, especially in our LEED-certified era, are socially-responsible. However, because of the narrative consistency of Scooby's writers -- to the point where the unmasking of the villain at the end of every episode became a widespread joke -- I will always have a slightly bad taste in my mouth when I think of developers. If more stories convey the greening of our culture in ways that people actually want to watch, I think that will go a long way toward altering the way people think -- just as it formed my five-year-old opinions.

I have a few more thoughts about narrative and how it can help or hurt our movement, but I've rambled on for way too long already. I may write more about this soon, but if you're just dying for more, click the "Green Narrative" tag to see past posts on this topic.

On this Earth Day ...

Earlier today, a deepwater oil rig 50 miles off the coast of Louisiana sank under the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The rig has been burning since Tuesday night, and eleven workers are still missing. The oil rig has the potential to spill 300,000 gallons of crude oil into the water in a single day.

It's Earth Day, and I can't help but feel a little down. Last month, the Obama administration announced that it wants to open more of America's coastline to deep water drilling such as this. And while accidents such as this one are rare, they underscore the hazards of messing with the fragile oceanic ecosystems.

About 50% of Americans think they are going to leave the environment worse for the next generation. It's easy to think that way -- I mean, it certainly seems like we'll leave it worse if we keep up our current behaviors. However, when we think this way, we forget that we can make small differences with each choice we make (especially the choices that involve how we spend our money. Because large systems usually change only when dollar signs point the way).

I was going to write an ah-me, I'm sad on Earth Day post. Instead, I'm going to highlight a few things you and I can do to help our beautiful oceans.

1) Eat wisely. Yum! As many of you loyal readers know, I eat a "flexitarian" diet that is mainly vegetarian, with some poultry and seafood. While I know that a vegetarian diet is truly best for the earth, I don't think I'll ever give up the occasional fishy meal. Some seafood choices are better than others. The Monterey Bay Aquariam has downloadable pocket-sized seafood guides that you can keep in your wallet and pull out at restaurants and stores to help you make more sustainable seafood choices. They are customized by your part of the country. Their Seafood Watch page includes recipes, news, and even an iPhone app! I'm going to bookmark it right now!

2) Use less fertilizer and eat organic. A dead zone is more than a USA Network vehicle for Anthony Michael Hall. It's also a low-oxygen area of the ocean (otherwise known as "hypoxic") where fish can't live. Fertilizer run-off is one major culprit in creating these dead zones. While you can help by using less fertilizer in your own garden, agriculture conglomerates use a lot more fertilizer than your Aunt Mildred in her tomato patch. In particular, be on the lookout for foods containing processed corn and soy, which you might not notice in many foods, and which were probably grown in less-than-sustainable conditions.

3) Reuse your shopping bags. You know the drill. Yes, we all forget our reusable bags sometimes. But it's worth trying to remember. Because those plastic bags are: a) made with petroleum products; and b) end up in the ocean - choking turtles, causing malnutrition in fish who think they are food, and basically creating a gross situation, that, let's face it, makes one embarrassed to be a human.

4) Love the sea. Snorkel. Sit in the sand and watch the waves. Look at this photo slideshow of the most beautiful waves (sent to me by one of our Greenies, Grace). Watch Hayao Miyazaki's sea-themed masterpiece, Ponyo. The more time you spend with the sea, the more you have invested in it, the more you're going to want to save it.

Enjoy this beautiful video of Bjork's song Oceania, in which the always-unique Bjork takes the POV of the sea. Happy Earth Day, friends.

Even Polygamists Love the Earth

While watching Big Love, HBO's show about a modern polygamist family, the other day, I noticed that one of the wives was using Seventh Generation window cleaner.

It just goes to show, when it comes to saving the earth, everyone has a part to play.

Green Reading Round-up

Here are a few great articles and websites I wanted to share:

• At The New Yorker, Nick Paumgarten tells us all about "Food Fighter" John Mackey, the founder of Whole Foods Markets. Mackey's an interesting character, as he's a fiscal conservative hippie (one of those "only in Texas" characters). If you shop at Whole Foods, or if you buy organic at Wal-mart, Mackey's been instrumental in shaping the options you have for natural and organic eating.
• In the Southwest Spirit magazine (yes, an airplane mag!), Paul Heller writes about "The Happiest Man on Earth." Apparently, that man is Logan Woods-Darby, a 24-year-old who has been raised in a unique manner, allowed to pursue any interest he chooses. The author goes on an ultralight hike with Woods-Darby, and the article will make you reflect on how much each of us really needs to be content.
• Alicia Silverstone starred in my ultimate guilty pleasure movie Excess Baggage. I know this is a strange choice, but its combination of very weird plot, a cutey (and also weird) Benicio del Toro, Red House Painters' song "All Mixed Up", and some of the most awesome production design I've ever seen, make it an annual must-watch for me. That has nothing to do with green living ... but Silverstone is a vegan activist and her lovely website thekindlife.com, is a wealth of recipes, stories about the benefits of a vegetarian lifestyle, a healthy, positive vibe.
• I always enjoy the musings of Eco-Yogini. She has been trying a lot of the same green-living changes that I have, and she's full of inspiration and challenges.

Happy reading!

Coming up soon: my adventures with eco-friendlier shampoos and deodorant! Could be disaster ...

A Whole New World ...

Saturday morning I decided to watch a bit of one of my favorite movies - Terrence Malick's masterpiece, The New World. It had made it onto the AV Club's top movies of the decade, which made me remember, hey, I love that movie.

If you're not familiar, The New World is a re-telling of the John Smith/Pocahontas myth - which sounds like it has to be some kind of colonialist b.s. Fortunately, Terrence Malick is all kinds of cool - not only a visionary filmmaker, but a deeply-spiritual storyteller whose movies explore the relationship between humankind, God, and nature. With Colin Farrell (one of our most underrated actors, in my opinion, probably due to his propensity for mullets) and Q'orianka Kilcher (Jewel's cousin!) in the lead roles, this movie spends little time on the whole "Indian-princess-throws-herself-on-white-man" part of the story, and focuses on the spiritual life of the hero and heroine. Sounds like it could be boring, but trust me, it's not.

Then, Saturday afternoon, I went to see James Cameron's Avatar. You may have heard of it. Imagine my surprise when I realized I was seeing the exact same movie that I had watched that morning -- only with blue CGI aliens instead of people. Colonialist gets lost in woods. Colonialist is going to die. Colonialist is saved by hot native chick. Hot chick's father tells her she has to teach the colonialist "our ways." Then there's some running around in the forest and stuff blows up.

Now, I don't mind a story re-tread (Owen Gleiberman at ew.com addressed Avatar's lack of an original story in this recent column). "Stranger in a strange land" is one of the classic plots, going back further than old Ulysses sailing around and visiting the lovely ladies of the Mediterranean. However, there was just something about Avatar that didn't jive with its message. Both Avatar and The New World explore how newcomers take the first steps to destroy a lush and natural world, even as they enjoy its wonders. And each film explores (one more deeply than another) the spiritual devastation this wreaks upon its heroes. That's a great, green message that all of us can learn from.

It seems to me, however, that Cameron undercuts that message by creating a whole world from computers, including the bodies of our hero and heroine. Just as he's saying, "learn about the world, and how everything is connected," he sends moviegoers the implicit message, "but, hey, if you don't, with my computer-generated wizardry, I can create a 3D world that's brighter and more awesome than anything on earth. And it will have dragons."

So while Malick is really trying to get us to see the world around us, constructing a story not only from the relationships of the main characters, but also from shots of waving grasses, trees creaking in the wind, and rivers as smooth as glass; Cameron takes moviegoers away. We don't really learn to see when we watch Avatar (although true-seeing is one of the film's themes) because what we do see onscreen makes it unnecessary for us to use our imaginations.

So if you have the chance, rent The New World, to see, in the words of the AVClub.com, how Malick, "treats the humans and their environment with equal interest, showing them all as part of an unstable order. ... throughout, Malick integrates every visual and audio element of the film into a meditation on one difficult question: 'Shall we not take what we are given?'." And then go see Avatar, and see if it moves you to consider your earth in a new way, or just makes you say "gee-whiz."

(I really enjoyed Avatar, by the way. You know, dragons are awesome. And it would be fun to ride one.)

Monday, Monday

So, Monday got ya down?

Want to waste time?

Want to waste time and save the planet?

When you need a brain break today, I've got your green interweb roundup, organized from least-time consuming to "my boss is on maternity leave and nobody will be checking up on me for 5 more weeks" time-consuming.

5 Minute Brain Break

• On the LA Times' Environment page, you can catch up on green news from Cali and around the world. I discovered it while looking for free crosswords. The New York Times also has an Environment page, although they put it under the heading of "Science", which seems to deny the socio-cultural-political-stylical-entertainmental aspects of the greening of our culture.
• The Sierra Club's Hey, Mr. Green column addresses all of those green dilemmas that the average person doesn't have time to research. Want to know what kind of cups will be most environmentally-friendly at your next kegger? Mr. Green can tell you!

15 Minute "Fresh Air" Break

My sister had a friend who was irritated that smokers got to take more breaks during the day than your average non-smoker. So she started taking "fresh air breaks", equivalent to those smoke breaks. Wanna rebel against the system and start taking fresh air breaks? Here are some websites to fill the time.

• Dooce, aka Heather Armstrong, has started a community on her website. The participants are fun, the question-and-answer format allows for a lot of information sharing, and if you click on the "Environment" category, your time wastage can serve a purpose. If you're not familiar with Dooce, she's a mega-blogger and author who writes about photography, motherhood, and washing machines. Always good for a laugh, followed by an aw-shucks moment, Dooce is an internet star who's totally relatable.
• Want to know what chemicals are lurking in your shampoo? How many bunnies died for your mascara? On the Environmental Working Group's Skin Deep Cosmetics Safety Database, you can check out the hazard level on your beauty products. But be forewarned - you might not like what you find out.

Break? What break? I'm trying to get fired

• Head over to Hulu and watch the latest episode of Bones. What does a forensic TV show have to do with the environment, you might ask? Well, on this particular episode, a dead body connected to a poultry plant leads the entire murder-solvin' gang to consider the ethics of eating meat. In fact, Bones consistently has an undercurrent of environmentalism, with bodies found at recycling plants, a household wind turbine serving as motive for murder, environmental activists popping up as suspects or victims ... it might seem trivial, but on this show, the greening of the American culture is ever-present, and the disparate personalities and politics allow the writers to explore a multitude of points of view.

Hope this roundup has provided you with some ways to abuse your corporate internet service while still loving Mama Earth. Enjoy your Monday!

Green Ghosts

I just wanted to share a couple of videos that are snaking their way through the cables that connect us to one another these days. Both of them (even though one is a jeans commercial) inspire you to get out of your own head for a moment, and consider the world around you.

The first is A Glorious Dawn, which features Carl Sagan (oh so hopeful for the potential of science to make us better!), Auto-tune, and some awesome music. It was recently featured on NPR's All Tech Considered, and I'm proud to say it was created by John David Boswell, who I used to BABY-SIT. Which means a) that I am old, but also b) that John David is super-talented.



The second is that Levi's commerical I mentioned. It's only luck that I saw it, because I rarely see commercials. I usually fast-forward through them, but I got distracted and all of a sudden I heard this amazing voice reciting poetry ... during a commercial break. I'm just glad Levi's decided to go pretentious with this ad campaign, because it was a great pause in the day, to just listen to Walt Whitman's wonderful words.



I'm not saying it's anything it's not; it is, after all, trying to make us buy jeans. It was just nice to hear.

Both of these voices out of the past -- Carl Sagan and Walt Whitman -- urged us to be the best versions of ourselves. Deeply concerned with nature, humanity, and the world around us, they are ghostly reminders that our frantic, frenetic culture has within it the potential to expand in ways that don't destroy us, but enlighten us.

True Blood = True Green

This summer, like everyone else with HBO and half-a-brain, I was totally obsessed with True Blood. And yes, I was obsessed for many of the reasons everyone else was:

Eric and Sam and Bill and Jason are hot.

Sookie is adorable.

Maryann is scary.

The scripts contain humor, gore, sex, and theological questions. The Southern gothic setting is lushly gorgeous. And Alan Ball has created the greenest show on TV.

What? you might ask. Green? As in, environmentally-friendly?

Yes.

Before you dismiss me, I ask you to think about this: we live in a culture that is saturated with media but which discourages deep reading of that media. Yes, it's okay to think deeply about books (as long as they aren't sold in grocery stores), but try to discuss the subtexts of a TV show (never mind a TV show which involves bare boobies in almost every episode) and you're seen as some prancing dilettante who has nothing better to do than pretend that pop culture has deep meaning.

Pop culture has deep meaning.

(Just read the columns of Grandpa Pop Culture, Stephen King, in Entertainment Weekly, if you want to further explore the concept of deep pop culture.)

In school, we never learn to critically read TV, pop music, or video games. In fact, most teachers I know deny the significance of pop culture however they can. And when we don't read pop culture, we miss out on the fundamental mythologies which are shaping our modern ethos.

So back to True Blood, and why it's greener than that show with Ed Begley Jr. putting windmills on his roof.

One of the themes of True Blood this season was nature -- and how we bring destruction upon ourselves when we deny nature. That includes denying it in the common sense, as in cutting ourselves off from the natural world around us:

Sam: Cities bring out the worst in people. They lose touch with nature ... where they come from.

Daphne: People do that here too.

Sam: Not in the same way.

(Except they totally do, because Daphne wanted Sam to understand that he had cut himself off from his own nature ... ah ... that was some pretty obvious metaphorical dialogue...)

As the above dialogue indicates, cutting ourselves off from nature also includes cutting ourselves off from our deeper natures, our true selves (which are, ultimately, connected to the first type of nature). When we destroy nature, the subtext read, we actually invite trouble upon us. Throughout the season, people were running around, trying to deny who they were and failing, learning that they were ultimately connected to something deeper, and either using that knowledge to bloom, or refusing it and perishing. When things got really wild, nature responded, filling Sookie's house with vines and leaves and the darkness of nighttime woods. Refuse nature, the house seemed to say, and she'll make her presence known.

I know of no other show that takes so seriously the fact of our embodied-ness, the fact that we are inextricably tied to this planet, this earth, and that we will never be the ones in charge of that. It's no coincidence, I think, that True Blood is set in the South, because here, nature is constantly rearing her head in the form of hurricanes, heatwaves, and humidity. It's hard to ignore nature, here. But we try. Boy-howdy, do we try.

I think, then, the message of True Blood, is not to ignore nature. Live in it. And don't go buck-wild either. You don't have to totally abandon yourself to running naked through the woods and eating raw bunnies ('cuz, we see where that gets Maryann). You just have to acknowledge nature, and do your best to be fully a part of it.

Oh. And recycle. Because Vampire Bill recycles.

Note: If you want to really get into a deep reading of True Blood, I suggest you head over to Television Without Pity, and read the recaps. It's kind of like the world's most fun college class, with the most fun text.

I Heart Miyazaki, And You Should Too

My nephew Henry is by no means a genius or anything, but he does have pretty cool taste. He likes the White Stripes and Fleet Foxes, sci-fi, and playing outside. He is obsessed with Mountain Dew (don't tell him about the woman who survived 5 days on a raft with only 2 cans of Mountain Dew). And ever since he was little, he has loved, loved, loved director, animator, and all-around awesome guy Hayao Miyazaki.

When Henry was 2 and 3, we were all forced to watch Miyazaki's meditation on Alice in Wonderland, entitled My Neighbor Totoro, over and over and over again. When H. was 3 and 4, we probably watched Kiki's Delivery Service (featuring traditional anime-style voicework by Kirsten Dunst -- which means she YELLED ALL OF HER LINES IN A MONOTONE) 500 times if we watched it once. Today, we all got out of the heat to watch Miyazaki's newest movie to hit American shores, Ponyo. (Click here to see the trailer.)

What does all this have to do with the environment? Well, I'm glad you asked, because I love to preach the Gospel of Miyazaki to anyone who is unfamiliar. Throughout his career, Miyazaki's films have expressed a vision of nature as deep, dark, mysterious, and filled with magic. Humans, in Miyazaki's view, are often throwing nature out of balance through war, pollution, and greed, and it is his deeply ethical heroines and heroes who fight to bring that balance back.

Sounds like it might be preachy, but all of this is embedded within fast-paced, fantastical stories that are, most-of-all, insanely beautiful to look at. Ponyo is no exception, telling the story of a half-goldfish, half-girl who wants to be human, and who chafes at the restrictions of her father, who is busy trying to bring balance back to a sea polluted by human waste. Little Ponyo gets into trouble (like many real-life sea creatures) when she gets stuck inside a jar that pollutes the ocean and is freed by a human boy.

Sound familiar? Ponyo definitely parallells Andersen's The Little Mermaid, but unlike Disney's version, this little mergirl is no shrinking waterlily. Loud, a little obnoxious, and filled with her own magic, Ponyo fights for her desires. The environmental message is definitely there, but kept mostly on the d-l, as it's voiced by Ponyo's nutter of a dad, driven a little bit crazy by the way humans abuse the sea.

It is the beautiful images of the sea and all of its lifeforms that will probably make the biggest impact on the worldviews little environmentalists, providing a counterpoint to the mostly pointless and ugly cartoons that fill most kids' days (including my nephew's). I can only hope that parents will get tired of the 3-D assault we've been getting at the box office this summer, and turn to this truly lovely vision of the world. Maybe more American kids will get hooked on Miyazaki -- because if any films deserve to be watched 1000s of times, they're his.

Seeing Ponyo just compounded the thoughts I've been having about our connection to the ocean. Just as I believe getting kids out into nature will help turn them on to environmentalism, so I believe that stories as deep and beautiful as Miyazaki's can help to unlock kids' ethical natures, their intellects, and their power. Wouldn't it be wonderful if schools took this into account - using such stories as part of a curriculum that helps children explore the ethics of their actions and impact on the world, and then using natural field experiences to help children find out whether they thrill to the oceans, the mountains, or some other eco-system entirely? What a world it would be ... right now, however, it's up to mamas, papas, aunties, uncles and others to begin this education. Too bad we have to wait until summer to teach these lessons, and probably will until standardized tests have a multiple-choice questions about saving the planet.

Just like Ponyo, we all started out in the ocean ...

Want more Miyazaki? Little eco-nauts will enjoy My Neighbor Totoro and Kiki's Delivery Service. Older kids (and adults) will want to see Spirited Away (about a little girl who must save her parents in a strange spirit world), Howl's Moving Castle (the love and bravery of a young woman helps to end a war that is destroying her people, plus there is a walking castle with chicken feet, plus the Wizard Howl is a dashing cad with the voice of Christian Bale, plus there's a scarecrow companion that is way better than the one in Wizard of Oz, plus, like many of Miyazaki's movies, Howl includes beautiful vistas of cities by the sea -- can you tell this movie is awesome?) and finally, the classic Princess Mononoke, which is probably Miyazaki's scariest and most adult, but has some of his most amazing animation.