SearchUser loginNavigationTeam AgonistThoughtfulAbu Aardvark GlobalaliasBruce TimelyMixed Bag of Candy: Who's onlineThere are currently 3 users and 503 guests online.
Online users:Syndicate |
The case for and against agricultural efficiencyOnce again, I stand poised to join the dark side. Not that one, the other dark side. Or is it the other, other dark side? Where the hell is the light side? I’ve seen the effect modern industrial agriculture has on small farmers; hell, I’ve not only seen it, I’ve felt it. The first job I had after getting married was a failed attempt at earning money by growing and selling produce, armed with nothing more than a five-acre plot, a rented roto-tiller, a couple of hoes (garden variety) and a few pounds of seed. Despite totally exhaustive labor, I failed to make a living. No damn way I could compete against industrial agriculture and its ferocious array of machinery. I lasted one growing season. Today, I still grow a garden and I still see others trying to do the same with primitive methods. We are still unable to compete. Only now, I finance the time I spend in the garden, some would say a waste of my time, with money earned as an industrial agricultor (my computer says this isn’t a word; it should be). Seems I have become my own enemy. I drive big tractors or send someone else to drive them for me, burning fossil fuels. I pump water from the ground and irrigate hybrid crops though massive machines—use chemical fertilizers and kill insects by the millions with poison sprayed from sixty foot booms and vehicles cruising fields at ten miles-per-hour. Combines devour my crops—harvesting in minutes what it would take a man a month to accomplish with hand tools. On one hand I recognize the ill effects my activity has on others—those not so privileged farmers (or are we privileged?), and on the other hand I see that this is the way we feed ourselves and without it, tomorrow a bunch of us starve. Perhaps most of us starve. Damn near all of us starve. I am told I am a fool for keeping and feeding horses. True, horses and horse-drawn implements can’t compete with a pickup truck or a tractor. In the case for efficiency, perhaps we should kill all of them or neuter all of them and let them fade from existence. Bastards are eating corn and oats some starving person needs. To be sure, feeding them eats up my money. But what about all those inefficient peasant farmers; should they too be killed or neutered and allowed to fade from existence? They ain’t driving a tractor and by God they’re eating up good food. I go to a chicken farm I will soon be involved with. (I told you, I am going to the dark side. We need the chicken shit for fertilizer.) The soon-to-be-previous-owner points at a chicken about half the size of the rest. He tells me he needs to be killed. The bird will never grow fast enough to pass inspection at harvest time so he or she must be destroyed. Stops them from eating (wasting) feed. He tells me they go through the pen with a piece of PVC pipe popping them in the head and gathering their bodies into buckets and then depositing the carcasses into a composter. I picture myself in my new job (what is this job number 4 or 5—all at the same time), walking around popping chickens on the head with a piece of PVC pipe. I look at the poor little bird as he squares off against a larger bird in a sparring gesture. Little bastard don’t know he’s smaller. In his eyes, I see the light of a living creature. He doesn’t get his five and a half weeks. Goddamnit. However, times are tough. People vote with their money and the money goes to the growers that produce food in the most efficient way possible. If you are not one of those that eats your chicken Kentucky-fried or buys the regular stuff at the grocery store, then you are part of a tiny minority, so small as to barely register on the big picture. And I’d bet that even the chicken house down the road—you know the one that raises natural chickens but is near broke because times are tough and people buy the cheaper stuff—also knocks little bird in the head for failing to meet industry standards. No room for the runt in this world. Then I drive by our corn field and see where a feral hog has knocked down a bunch of plants and eaten a few of them. I'm killing every goddamned feral hog in Texas, by God. But what do we do when the machines we create become so efficient that they eliminate the need for our jobs—perhaps even our existence? Is man the only creature on this planet that matters? Furthermore, what happens when this industrial machine we have created fails? Wonder what the people that thought it a good idea to kill all the horses will think when there’s no diesel or gasoline for that favorite hunk of iron they drive. Or when the only bastard left that knows how to grow anything to eat is the old sharecropper down the road or that Indian punching holes and planting corn in the side of a hill? Stokely Carmichael said a man can’t condemn himself. We damn well better learn how. If there is a God up there watching all of this, I don’t see how he could be happy with us. Don June 2, 2008 - 10:49am
( categories: Miscellany )
|
![]() |