We were discussing the impending collapse of civilization, and I, in my youthful exuberance, was all excited about it, saying it would be liberating and return us to a simpler way of living. My friend - Jay - said, "Like Little House on the Prairie." And I said, "Yes, exactly!" And he said, "Yeah. But it's going to be Mad Max first."
The reason I'm thinking about this now is because my blogging friend Claire commented on my last post that what I'm doing makes her think of Laura Ingalls. And since that conversation with Jay is never too far from my mind, I've come to automatically think of Mad Max when I think of Little House on the Prairie. In my weird little view of the world, I actually enjoy this and see it as a kind of balance.
The thing that struck me this time though, is that where my land is (yes, that's right - MY land! It's official; I'm now a land owner - WOO HOOOO!!!). Anyway, ahem. Where my land is, it's already a lot like a cross between Mad Max and Little House on the Prairie. So the prophecy really is coming true, just not in the way I'd imagined. The truth is,
I guess now would be an appropriate time to mention the movie. Sigh. I've been avoiding this because this little movie about the Mesa, called Off the Grid: Life On the Mesa, presents an exaggerated and one-sided view of what it's like out there. Like any other place in the world, there are good "neighborhoods" and bad ones (as well as the very human tendency to overact for a camera crew), so if you watch this movie, please keep that in mind. There is also a mix of people out there that is far more varied than just what's shown in this film. The Mesa's a pretty big place. My friend Rusty actually wants to make a different film that would show another side; I'll enthusiastically help him if he does.
That said, however, there is definitely an outlaw sort of feel to the place, which actually appeals to me for a variety of reasons. It provides a certain kind of freedom (e.g., from building codes) that makes it worth dealing with the inevitable dangers of such lawlessness. That's the thing about freedom - it's more often than not holding hands with danger. And I'm fine with that.
Since I've made a pact with myself that I won't get too spiritual/philosophical on this blog, I'll shut up now, but if you're interested in reading more of my ruminations on freedom vs. safety, I posted on my other blog about this about a year and a half ago: http://thepollinatrix.blogspot.com/2009/10/swan-song-for-moment.html