Waterless composting toilet

Since we started planning our permaculture garden two years ago we have given most of our energy to water conservation, renewable energy, heirloom food gardening, worm generation, composting, indigenous planting, companion planting and buying less and less items packaged in plastic. But we haven't yet got to black and grey water recycling and composting. So, after talking with a friend yesterday, who has just returned from a NZ permaculture farm where he saw a basic, home-made one in successful operation, I decided it's time to build a composting worm toilet in the guest shed. Any tips or good advice most welcome.
Design from here.

Sunday morning

Steady-state for future growth

The word economics comes from the Greek ‘ta oikonomika’, which means the science of household management. It is how one takes care of one’s house. The word has suffered devaluation, and now means the management of money.

The word ecocide comes from Greek as well, ‘oikos’, meaning ‘house’, and ‘cidium’, meaning to ‘slay’ or ‘destroy’. Ecocide is the destruction of the house. Derrick Jensen

If you walk into a healthy forest it is brimming with life from deep down in the soil to the highest branch. If you walk into a paddock of industrialised agriculture there is only one or two species growing in dead soil, and there’s a heavy reliance on oil - tractors, pesticides, fertilisers – to keep these things alive. That is before anything is transported to our tables. Oil, of course, is running out. The forest provides our future model, the paddock represents the old school – John Howard, Milton Freidman, General Pinochet et al.

We have to get the carbon cycle back in balance and to do this, permaculture – based on steady-state economics – is the best ‘whole systems’ solution we have. Many will laugh now, but a gardeners’ revolution is the future; a return to localised, healthy food. Suits and hipsters will exchange briefcases, cafes and dark rimmed specs for pitchforks, raised beds and shovels. They’ll find a way to make them sexy, and good for them, while metrosexuals, the boys nature forgot, will actually grow muscle.

Shed of interrelation (part two)

On dusk tonight, relations of common substance, the world comes in, relations of avoidance in decline. Some new, some reclaimed materials from the local tip. The future of food is under our feet.

Give up hope on the environment

A wonderful thing happens when you give up on hope, which is that you realize you never needed it in the first place. Hope implies powerlessness, a lack of agency, and a reliance on forces beyond your control. To focus on an abstract sustainable future neglects the real-world actions that can be taken right now. When we realize the degree of agency we actually do have, we no longer have to ‘hope’ at all. We simply do the work. Derrick Jensen, 2006

More here.

Image by Brian Carlson, licensed under Creative Commons.

Shed of interrelation (in progress)

Click for bigger.

Tomorrow we start work on finishing the guest shed. The idea for this shed is to encourage artist and writer friends to come and stay and work on their various projects while contributing an hour or so a day to food gardening. Permapoesis is permanent meaning making. Sustainable food is central to sustainable arts practice. This guest shed will represent the coming together of these two things, the coming together of a modern permaculture.

Webs of interrelation (under construction)

Sand & skin

Almost every day people from all over the world come to my blog via the following two images.

If you missed the original post, I drew the above work in the sand at Port Fairy last Summer (2008). I used a stick of driftwood to etch with.

And this, etched into my flesh in 2006, represents a future societal model that has made an intelligent return to ecological functioning. WOW! all that in a tat that looks like someone has used my shoulder to rest their beer on. The original post can be read here.

Slow text (towards a definition)

Here's another excerpt from Free-dragging, Slow Text and Permapoesis: towards a biophysical poetry, recently completed for a forthcoming Angelaki issue. To give some background I have just introduced the concept of hopelessness: By understanding that life is painful, unnecessarily destructive and generally hopeless, we have nothing to loose but to hop on it. 

A portrait of the artist as superscript type.

Caged, the Silent Piece: 2'20"

Dja Dja Wurrung elder Aunty Sue Rankin at the Human Rights Day gathering in Melbourne, 2005

The best way [to procure a run] is to go outside and take up a new run, provided the conscience of the party is sufficiently seared to enable him without remorse to slaughter natives right and left. It is universally and distinctly understood that the chances are very small indeed of a person taking up a new run being able to maintain possession of his place and property without having recourse to such means - sometimes by wholesale...

Ian D. Clark, pp1, Scars on the Landscape. A Register of Massacre sites in Western Victoria 1803-1859, Aboriginal Studies Press, 1995 ISBN 0855752815

Religion, there is no reason to argue

I used to think, naively, that religion is arbitrary; that people are entitled to their opinions and beliefs so long as they don't abuse others. But, of course, religion is anything but arbitrary. Over the past week I have had three very different encounters with religious extremism. One from each of the main monotheisms.

The first was virtual and Islamic. I watched a documentary on SBS detailing how the Taliban are operating in Pakistani villages that they've captured. It revealed that first they use terror to frighten people into submission by beheading dissenters (an oldie but a goodie). Then they take over schools, kick out the girls and teach the boys with only one book, one way of life – Sharia law. The journalist asked a Taliban official why young boys were fighting this war and the response was, "they love to carry the guns for us" (as boys do), "we teach them to use the guns and when they're older to fight the infidels". 

"Get them early!" It's the same slogan for all monotheistic religions and, of course, advertising. 

The second was a little more personal and Jewish. I read newmatilda this week and made a positive comment on a Jewish writer's intelligent argument about both anti-Semite's and certain Jewish lobbyists' bigotry. I thought it was very good and clear-eyed. Whenever I make a comment online people can click on my blog name and it will direct them back here. Last night I received an abusive Anonymous comment attempting to upset my goyishness, especially by virtue of the fact he (or she) knew part of my family was raised Jewish. Right-wing Zionists can be so vulgar for chosen people, enlightened by God.

The third was my most direct experience and Christian. Today, in hospital (more knee troubles), an 83 year old Catholic man lay next to me and between life-challenging coughing fits proceeded to tell me that no one can live without God. I reminded him that the Djadjawurrung had lived in this area for 40,000 years before the missions and the state destroyed them. "Children today need to be caned by a priest or teacher", he ranted, "otherwise they will never know discipline". He later said, sensing he hadn't convinced me, "if you have no religion, you're no good; you're a communist". He had grown up in a country whose people were only given these two monological options – oppressive religion or oppressive secularism. In the end it's the same thing. We shared the air and we shared numbers. I am 38.

All three men are products of childhood propaganda. They've never grown out of it. They have suffered a similar thing to what obese kids suffer today – a life-sentence of being fed the fruits of industrialised agriculture, a new era of oppressive secularism I call pop-fascism. All of this is against nature, disembodied from wild nature, hateful of wild nature. The Taliban official was partially veiled to screen his face on camera, the Jewish Anon was fully and cowardly veiled behind his cum-stained digital screen, and the Catholic man, dying beside me, was fully transparent in his resoluteness that his God will soon offer him just rewards. None of them think of the soil when they fear death, the richness of microbial life. The possibilities for wild new life to rise from it.

Men require the silencing of others to make their mutable truths concrete. Today is the Twentieth anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre and the sole dance of the beautiful Tank Man (Tank Man Tango).

In the past few years I have many times dreamt of being tortured by men who hate that which is not in their own image. It's as though I'm preparing myself for my final hours. I'm hung up in a dark cell, I've been there for several days. (I have been in a hospital for nearly a week). I'm thinking that this will all end soon. I get lanced by a hot poker. I swallow. I choke. I like to think that none of this will hurt me, that I have my humanity. I'm punched in the groin with a metal glove. I will not hate these men, they are frightened, I have no fear today, they will not have my liberty today. I am free-dying. Then acid burns into my skin. I scream. Silence. 4 minutes and thirty three seconds. More screams, then –

relating

to the care of souls,

it says)

He had smiled at us,

each time we were in town, inquired

how the baby was, had two cents

for the weather, wore

(beside his automobile)

good clothes.

                        And a pink face.

It was yesterday

it all came out. The gambit

(as he crossed the street,

after us): "I don't believe

I know your name." Given.

How do you do,

how do you do. And then:

"Pardon me, but 

what church

do you belong to,

may I ask?"

And the whole street, the town, the cities, the nation

blinked, in the afternoon sun, at the gun

was held at them. And I wavered

in the thought.

I sd, you may, sir.

He said, what, sir.

I sd, none,

sir.

And the light was back.

For I am no merchant.

Nor so young I need to take a stance

to a loaded

smile.

I have known the face 

of God.

And turned away,

turned,

as He did,

his backside

Charles Olson, from The Maximus Poems, 1960

(With thanks to Ianian, Pete O, Meg and Z for their added love this week).

Desperate stuff

The Victorian government has recently formed an alliance with US chemical and plastics giant Dow Chemical. Here's what Dow states on its website:

The new $230 million Biosciences Research Centre, a joint venture between the Victorian Government and La Trobe University, will boost Victoria’s ability to make these important scientific discoveries. To be located in Bundoora, Melbourne, the facility will be a world-class centre for agricultural biosciences research and development. Other agencies and organisations with complementary science objectives are invited to partner or link in to the new Centre. (GOSD added the bold)

Government backed commercialised science is based on profits at the expense of natural ecologies. There is no longer an independent CSIRO. Contrary to what it says about averting a potential food supply crisis, CSIRO, like the other hijacked departments, is part of the problem. Science has been bought by chemical companies. University scientists are paid to deliver the science that best reflects the products of large corporations, which of course isn't science at all but at a systems level, a monumental ecological travesty. Chemical agriculture can never enhance the complexities of complex microbial life in the soil, can never mimic the complexities of natural systems, and therefore can never produce sustainable agriculture. Governments who support chemical companies such as Dow and Monsanto, support the abuse of the landbase and the abuse of those that eat their food.

As people, we have to move beyond desperate monological AgriBusiness and start to once again feed ourselves in healthy ecologies. Governments think the future of agriculture is with super farms that rely on broad acre chemicalisation, but the future lies with community food sovereignty. AgriBusiness will never protect diverse life with its single focussed aggregate-growth world view.

Too Much of Me (reviewed today)

Reviewed in The Age by Robert Nelson.

The rage against permanency

The system of economics that both defines and bullies modern Australian society is rarely questioned or comprehensively critiqued. That is until there is collapse. But even then, and despite all the evidence against aggregate-growth economics, the system largely remains intact and it’s business as usual. Why is this? Why is it that profit-growth capitalism is resistant to being more economically efficient, more ecologically embedded and less destructive?



Arm people with organic methods of self-sufficiency and see the rapid decline of factory farms, obesity, self-harm, ADHD, tooth decay, factory slaves, dioxins, wage-slaves, drug addiction, non-compostable waste, poisoned soil, carbon pollution, and on and on and on it goes.