750
And what could it give? What on earth does our species have to contribute? It
is true that our nearly 100 billion corpses to date have provided nutrients, fodder,
fuel. While our living bodies afford a rich repository for quadrillions of microorganisms and busy atoms, hothouses of evolution. But, collectively, we are but one
sample of life, skewed and terminal. Every other large vertebrate gives more than
their corpse, and the corresponding organisms they host. Just as every tree in a forest like that of Bialowieza in Poland and Belarus champions fertile life-sustaining
interdependencies.
While some inkling of service to Others can be deciphered in countless human
biocultural practices (Jain philanthropy, Bishnoi guardianship of native species,
Jewish and Franciscan charities, the targeted protective umbrellas and basic ethological hospitality of the Todas, and of thousands of NGOs) our 7.8 billion heavy
mostly animal consuming bulwark presents to any one imagination a finite crisis.
Countless conservation biology, animal liberation, deep demography, and other
ethical methodologies have arisen too late to exert the necessary moral critical mass
necessary to curb or repeal the woes. Every philosophical system, save for absolute
nihilism, has long deceived itself before the onslaught of this one ungainly predator
species.
83.2 Egocide
Nihilism has only thus far proved successful, in the predictive, empirical sense, for
example, documented extinctions, scope, and rate of prime habitat loss. But in what
way might this uniquely astringent and unforgiving prelude to ecocide manage to
remedy the ecologically inconsolable? To lift the crashing plane from what we now
know to be the inevitable chasm of gravities? There is no system of thought, other
than acceptance or repeal of our destruction, to do so. None. All have denied the
planet. Every thought experiment, when put to the test of its own authorship, aligns
with one system or other that inevitably betrays an infra-species loyalty. Those statistically few human individuals who have tried to encourage a responsible humanity are obviously exceptions to what is, admittedly no true rule, only an insight that
betrayal is itself the system of betrayals. Its relentless traction has not yet been
understood, other than within those privileged bubbles of analysis-like interiors of a
Robert Adam, representative sets of numbers quantifying the glimpses we have
obtained thus far of the horrific carnage. It is a luxury of tears that has the time and
steadiness of breath, of pulse, to track and monitor the planet’s multitudinous emergency rooms. All those quanta, the ashes of Birkenau fitted into a far more unthinkable oven of Anthropocenic statistics which unambiguously portend of the finality
of a stylized epistemological inroad: the anthropologies of extinction.
Reflection upon these importunate melancholies is akin to seeking ultimate relief
in a large caliber bullet up through the mouth—no uncertainty about a finality
(perhaps the only certainty left in the annals of contemporary ecosystems). Or
83 Comes Crashing Down Upon It
And what could it give? What on earth does our species have to contribute? It
is true that our nearly 100 billion corpses to date have provided nutrients, fodder,
fuel. While our living bodies afford a rich repository for quadrillions of microorganisms and busy atoms, hothouses of evolution. But, collectively, we are but one
sample of life, skewed and terminal. Every other large vertebrate gives more than
their corpse, and the corresponding organisms they host. Just as every tree in a forest like that of Bialowieza in Poland and Belarus champions fertile life-sustaining
interdependencies.
While some inkling of service to Others can be deciphered in countless human
biocultural practices (Jain philanthropy, Bishnoi guardianship of native species,
Jewish and Franciscan charities, the targeted protective umbrellas and basic ethological hospitality of the Todas, and of thousands of NGOs) our 7.8 billion heavy
mostly animal consuming bulwark presents to any one imagination a finite crisis.
Countless conservation biology, animal liberation, deep demography, and other
ethical methodologies have arisen too late to exert the necessary moral critical mass
necessary to curb or repeal the woes. Every philosophical system, save for absolute
nihilism, has long deceived itself before the onslaught of this one ungainly predator
species.
83.2 Egocide
Nihilism has only thus far proved successful, in the predictive, empirical sense, for
example, documented extinctions, scope, and rate of prime habitat loss. But in what
way might this uniquely astringent and unforgiving prelude to ecocide manage to
remedy the ecologically inconsolable? To lift the crashing plane from what we now
know to be the inevitable chasm of gravities? There is no system of thought, other
than acceptance or repeal of our destruction, to do so. None. All have denied the
planet. Every thought experiment, when put to the test of its own authorship, aligns
with one system or other that inevitably betrays an infra-species loyalty. Those statistically few human individuals who have tried to encourage a responsible humanity are obviously exceptions to what is, admittedly no true rule, only an insight that
betrayal is itself the system of betrayals. Its relentless traction has not yet been
understood, other than within those privileged bubbles of analysis-like interiors of a
Robert Adam, representative sets of numbers quantifying the glimpses we have
obtained thus far of the horrific carnage. It is a luxury of tears that has the time and
steadiness of breath, of pulse, to track and monitor the planet’s multitudinous emergency rooms. All those quanta, the ashes of Birkenau fitted into a far more unthinkable oven of Anthropocenic statistics which unambiguously portend of the finality
of a stylized epistemological inroad: the anthropologies of extinction.
Reflection upon these importunate melancholies is akin to seeking ultimate relief
in a large caliber bullet up through the mouth—no uncertainty about a finality
(perhaps the only certainty left in the annals of contemporary ecosystems). Or
83 Comes Crashing Down Upon It