There was a scent of Japan in the air today. How can I describe it to those of you who may never have been in Japan? A flavor of the wind, the taste of humid heat, the scent of city, and the hunger of nostalgia rises within me. Today it was a crow perched on the electric wire. As I walked to my car, it kawed at me, and I was transported to the summers spent at Obaachan's apartment in Tokyo.
But this past spring, my dearest little Obaachan has passed away, and the Japan that I would return to is not the same. She was such an integral part of my summer experience as a child that even now, I cannot comprehend that she will not be there waiting for me, that I will not sit and swelter in her tiny apartment while she feeds me treats. Because now her apartment has been emptied of her essence, and her stuff dispersed. There is no connection for me in Takadanobaba save memories of times gone by. I fear as time passes I will lose more connections to Japan, until I am just a foreign visitor like so many others. I am so sorry that I could not be there in your final moments, to hold you and remind you how much I love you, to recall the happy times and send you off in joy.
It is hard for me to accept death, even though I so strongly believe in reincarnation. I hold the spirits of the dead in my heart, unwilling to let them go.
I used to be a vegetarian in high school. A couple years later I decided to stop eating all together. That didn't work out so well, so I decided to be a vegan. Then I went to college for a year in Vermont, and realized I probably couldn't survive as a vegan and went back to being a vegetarian. Then about 7 years ago, my boyfriend at the time prepared for me a duck breast. I ate it, and then something snapped, and I went on a meat eating spree. No animal, no matter how cute, cuddly, or oppressed, was safe from me. Hell, I would shoot those damn koalas if they made good barbeque.
But recently, I have paused to reconsider.
The reason I attempted to stop eating entirely in high school was as a form of rebellion against the act consumption which I found so disgusting. Obviously, not eating is not an option, and by ecological and economic definition, I am a consumer. However, anti-consumerist feelings linger within me, for shopping, whether for food, groceries, clothing, or household items, is a chronically difficult thing for me. I will spend long moments debating the pros and cons of a particular product in an attempt to make the best choice possible. For the most part, that means buying organic whenever possible.
However, the word "organic" has become increasingly problematic. We have come to associate it with a set of ethical standards or philosohpy. For example, on the first day of my organic chemistry class, our professor wrote the word "organic" on the board, and asked the class to offer associated words. "natural", "wholesome", "holistic", "ecological", "environmental" "sustainable" are some of the buzz words that came up. The truth is, the word organic, as defined by the National Standards on Organic Agricultural Production and Handling has little to do with how we define the word in common language. Witness the fact that the study of "organic" chemistry is involved with the study of highly toxic chemicals (hexane, benzene, etc,etc.) and in fact the only defining characteristic being that the chemical is carbon based. However, we continue to associate a certain mystique around the term "organic" which is precisely what is bein exploited by marketers. Our very philosophies and ethics have become marketing strategies.
Michael Pollan (you remember him from such books as The Botany of Desire)has written about the problems of a culture of organic consumption better than I ever could:Behind the Organic-Industrial-Complex.
The Organic Industrial Complex was evidenced in my experience while shopping at Berkeley Bowl the other day. It seemed that every choice presented before me would result in ecological disaster or unethical repercussions. I picked up a box of cereal advertized as organic and "eco". The ingredients included organic ginseng. Nope, can't buy that. North American organic ginseng is harvested from the wild, where its populations have dwindled significantly from over harvesting and nonsustainable products. I settled on "rainforest cereal," with sustainably harvested brazil nuts, whose proceeds go to help preserve the rain forest. On to the eggs. Fertilized eggs are better for you, they say, but I can't get the picture of a row of chickens being artificially inseminated out of my head. I reach for the "cage free", but there is no word here about organic (though I discussed the problems with this word above, I still think its better than non organic), and no word about the company's philosophy towards hormones and antibiotics. I reach for the organic, free range eggs, keeping in mind that free range really has little meaning. Spending a year with a chicken has given me a new perspective on these feathered creatures, convince me that they are smarter and more emotional than we give them credit for. On to the soy milk. It's probably better than cow milk, but certainly it has its problems, packaged as it is in an unrecyclable container,ultra pasturized, and processed, all issues that make it ecologically unsound.
These are the moral dilemmas that face me every day. Is it a wonder that I have survived this long? I live a philosophy of guilt.
Which brings me back to the question of meat. I first became a vegetarian because I felt it was morally wrong to eat meat, given the condition that animals are kept and cruelty with which they are handled, given the fact that they have souls. The justification I made when I began to eat meat again was that it was part of the natural process, part of the food chain.
But what can we say is natural about how we create and process meat today? Again, Michael Pollan (who is rapidly becoming my hero) wrote a compelling essay on the nature of beef: Power Steer. Because of his article, which was published in the New York Times last year, a number of prominent chefs (Alice Waters leading the way) have considered switching to grass fed beef (link to article) What frustrated me is the simplistic comment, "Grass fed beef is better for the environment." This sort of ignorant reasoning and justification for consumer choices is precisely the reason why the whole green trend has become such a disaster. The truth is overgrazing is one of the worst environmental disasters. It is a large reason why millions of acres have been deforested, and why many native grass species have become threatened. Not to say that I disagree with the argument in favor of grass fed beef. However, the key component is that of a responsibly, sustainably managed range. The prevalent model for sustainable range management is based on a rotation of fields, each field allowed a period of fallow to recover before it is opened to grazing again. Based on this model, imagine how much pasture land we would need to sustainably raise the millions of pounds of beef demanded by the U.S. market. Again, a good idea in theory, but in practice? I don't know.
But I digress. The main point of this bit was to reflect on myself, and my own choices in this world. When I was a vegetarian so long ago, I decided that the only meat I would eat would be meat that I would kill and prepare myself. I knew I would never eat meat, then, as I would never be able to kill an animal. I have, since, killed at least three animals to eat (a fish, a grouse, and a crab). The task was difficult, but ultimately spiritually empowering. Participating in the cycle of life and death, I felt that I had earned the right to eat the fish that I caught.
And I think about what it would be like to be eated by a wild animal. To complete the cycle, it seems only right. Perhaps when I die they can let the vultures feed on my corpse. My enskyment.
July 25, 2002 22:55:13
Only a clutter of random thoughts to offer my most esteemed readers today:
For all those who have geocities web pages: if you set the z index to 2 or more, I believe that all ads will pop up behind your page, and not right over it. I'm not sure how ethical this is, however, as their advertisements make it possible to have free web pages... Oh well, I got over it.
How quickly I have become absorbed into the web! My ex boyfriend complained the other day that he kept calling my house but no one picked up the phone.
"Yeah," I responded. "We don't do that anymore." And it's true. I've come to rely on email for all my social and personal needs. I assume that people I meet have web sites, and if they do, I scrutinize them. If they don't, there is a depth of knowledge and interaction that is missing. Reading someone's web log really is an intimate experience. Once you are done, you feel like you are the person's friend. Is that a false feeling? I don't know... Perhaps, but then again, you can get a feeling about that person, an essence, perhaps.
I think I need to learn java script...
July 22, 2002 This weekend I saw LOTR for the third time. As my friend pointed out, this would net to nine whole hours of Tolkien action. And I had to ask myself, why see it again? Make no mistake, the magic was in no way diminished by the third viewing. However, this is rather unusual behavior for me. I seldom see a movie more than once in a theatre. Is it the stunning visual experience? The beautiful elf? Or is it the fact that it brings a childhood dream to life? There is some part of me that still yearns for adventure, for a world where heros are made by the strength of their spirit, where to sacrifice one's life for another or for the prevailment (that's not really a word, is it...) of "good" is a clear and necessary sacrifice. It makes me reacall the hours my sister and I used to spend drawing maps to imaginary lands, creating stories for each new country that was drawn, of my father, who in many ways was a Tolkien, his mind rich too with tales and myths. It makes me think that perhaps I was not meant for this world, but for another entirely...
To me, perhaps the most compelling character is Boromir. In life, the struggle of good and evil within our selves is never cut and dry, and Boromir epitomizes the struggle. Not gifted with elven dexterity, with sorcery, or with an epic lineage, his is embittered by the king's abandonment. He is blinded by his need for power to protect Gondor, yet in the end, sacrifices himself to rectify his short comings. In my mind, a true hero is one who acts to overcome his failings.
On a different note, I came to a new appreciation for the movie. The first two times I saw it, I was a little annoyed by the hobbits who keep getting into trouble, and especially by Frodo who is in many cases dead weight and must always be protected, rescued, healed from near death (notice how Frodo's hands are always nice and clean?) For some reason, I never got this feeling while reading the books. But the third time I saw the movie,, I realized that this constant babysitting is the price the fellowship must pay for the goodness and relative incorruptability of the hobbits. Yeah, Frodo's kind of a wus and the hobbits are in general a pain in the ass, but this the characteristics that make them such are the very same characteristics that make them essential as the ring bearer and his crew.
July 19, 2002 6:51:44 Having given thought to the format, I think I am ready to commit to a home page from which all other pages will be linked. Keep in mind, I intend to change it around quite a bit. I've catalogued all the other entries by dates. Not the most elegant solution, but whatever The specific sections I will write when the latest update was, and a brief summary.
For those of you who find my colour choices objectionable, I will have you know that colour coordinating is perhaps the thing that takes me the longest (probably about 60% of my time) as it is all trial and error to give you the colour scheme that balances visual fascility in reading and impact.
Finally, I must apologize in advance for all spelling. It seems I have become quite dependent on the spell check function of Microsoft Word, and am at a loss without it. I will try to wean myself off that most despicable of functions.
Last night I teased a friend of mine who is a game programmer, theorist, critique (it's never really clear in these situations) because he insisted on lugging his lap top where ever he went. This is not an isolated phenomenon. Many computer types and internet afficiondos tend to carry with them what might be considered their survival pack, that is, cell phone, digital camera, sometimes a palm pilot and lap top. "Let's go to the store," you say. "O.K.," they say, and grab their little kit. What the hell are you going to need a digital camera to walk down to the corner store?
Yet even I scoffed at him, today, I realized, how necessary that would be. Because today I experienced a sudden and urgent need to void my thoughts into the electronic miasma that is the internet, to express my self to the mass that is at once everyone and no one.
It was no great epiphany or relevation. That is the curious thing. It's not as if I've discovered the meaning of life or the cure for cancer.
Also last night, I met a guy who did not know I was Jane's sister. When I told him, he said, "Wow, I never would have guessed." This took me a little by surprise, considering most people who meet us together for the first time say, "You look like twins!". This reaction was exacerbated by the fact that, when growing up, my mom used to dress us alike. On the phone, especially, people have a hard time telling us apart (I admit I attempted to exploit this growing up, though my mischeviousness never amounted to anything). After he realized that, he developed an inexplicable urge to call me "Jane". Which never would have happened if he didn't know who I was. Go figure.
