Friday, July 11, 2003
I was really racking my brain for a question-of-the-day, and the best I can do was spurred by a recent fire in Farmington, UT. Apparently this was started by a transient (aka hobo-- is that still pc?) who was "mad at society," and thus promptly started a fire, walked to the local police station, announced his guilt, and bedded down for the night. What started out as an innocent scorch on a hillside (in light of the fact that we are experiencing one of the worst droughts in decades) has ravaged a whole mountainside and threatened to put people out of their homes. I have discovered a number of frightening questions surrounding this strange phenomenon. First, what sort of society do we live in that makes us use p.c. words (that's "politically correct" for those of you still living in the 70s) to keep from offending each other. No matter what you call someone, you're still placing him or her in a category-- up-to-date words just depend on whether that category sounds more sugar-coated than another. Besides, who wants to be coddled all the time? As touched upon in the last posting, when we find ourselves in comfortable surroundings, we lose our edge, our creativity, our pure personal synergy with the world.
All right, the next question this poses-- how did the people of the world manage before the 1900s? Obviously, they had to do something to keep from burning everything up in sight. What happened when people got "mad at society" and decided to start burning things? Well, that answer is simple-- they had a town hanging. No quabbles, no pandering to someone who had a grudge against the local judge because he sent Cousin Ed to a chain gang in South Carolina-- just a swift carry-out of judgement and everyone was much more content and smoke-free. (I contemplated putting in my two-cents worth here on smoking in public places, but we'll leave that for another day.) But our predicament here is that we can't ignore someone like this or we'll end up with char-broiled Rocky Mountains. Not to dismiss the great work done by our Utah Fire Departments, but whatever happened to people just stepping in to lend a helping hand? A mountain full of fire is a bit much to tackle, but a small brush-fire. I had the occasion to drive past this blaze in its initial phase on my way to a wedding reception in Ogden, and from its proximity to the freeway, I could see that it would easily have been managed by a few well-intentioned house-holders armed with buckets of water. Perhaps a small neighborhood's worth. In my mind I hearkened back to pioneer times when a neighbor's house was protected as one's own, and people would throng together for anything from a cow-birthing to a hoe-down, cheerfully submitting to obstacles and lending a helping hand. That is the heritage we come from and I assumed it was all in our blood. But what was my surprise when I returned on the same route, only to see copious amounts of salmon-colored smoke billowing from the mountainside in a much more ominous way than I had viewed previously. There were no pioneers foraging on the mountainside for sources of water to assist. Of course, by now it was much to large to contain by simple neighbors and buckets. Sigh... the effects of complacency in an abundant environment of freedom from responsibility. Unfortunately, if it gets much worse, we must all live in burnt-up communities, watching helplessly as the firemen futilely battle the inferno.
Just be careful to call them "flame-conquering persons."
We wouldn't want anyone to be offended.
All right, the next question this poses-- how did the people of the world manage before the 1900s? Obviously, they had to do something to keep from burning everything up in sight. What happened when people got "mad at society" and decided to start burning things? Well, that answer is simple-- they had a town hanging. No quabbles, no pandering to someone who had a grudge against the local judge because he sent Cousin Ed to a chain gang in South Carolina-- just a swift carry-out of judgement and everyone was much more content and smoke-free. (I contemplated putting in my two-cents worth here on smoking in public places, but we'll leave that for another day.) But our predicament here is that we can't ignore someone like this or we'll end up with char-broiled Rocky Mountains. Not to dismiss the great work done by our Utah Fire Departments, but whatever happened to people just stepping in to lend a helping hand? A mountain full of fire is a bit much to tackle, but a small brush-fire. I had the occasion to drive past this blaze in its initial phase on my way to a wedding reception in Ogden, and from its proximity to the freeway, I could see that it would easily have been managed by a few well-intentioned house-holders armed with buckets of water. Perhaps a small neighborhood's worth. In my mind I hearkened back to pioneer times when a neighbor's house was protected as one's own, and people would throng together for anything from a cow-birthing to a hoe-down, cheerfully submitting to obstacles and lending a helping hand. That is the heritage we come from and I assumed it was all in our blood. But what was my surprise when I returned on the same route, only to see copious amounts of salmon-colored smoke billowing from the mountainside in a much more ominous way than I had viewed previously. There were no pioneers foraging on the mountainside for sources of water to assist. Of course, by now it was much to large to contain by simple neighbors and buckets. Sigh... the effects of complacency in an abundant environment of freedom from responsibility. Unfortunately, if it gets much worse, we must all live in burnt-up communities, watching helplessly as the firemen futilely battle the inferno.
Just be careful to call them "flame-conquering persons."
We wouldn't want anyone to be offended.
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