There is something the Information Age cannot say. The crisis of the Earth is reported to us as numbers. A hurricane has a category number, a minimum and maximum wind speed, and a cost in number of dead and number of billions. This is classic for the dot com era, where public talk is abbreviated, snarky, and a wet cat doing chin-ups can go viral like the 9th Symphony used to.
Our inability to shout "Emergency!" - what could be more dangerous? We are on schedule to take much of the animal and plant world with us into premature death. Why isn't every kind of public voice engaged in telling this story, especially the art of the comedians and singer-song-writers, whose wizardry with words is so much more compelling than the quantification and pixilation of modern corporate talk. Why do great gatherings of story-makers ignore the Earth? Pop stars today make no meaning. They say nothing. Broadway has no characters or plots about the Earth, hasn't for years. But remember Sam Cook. He sang "A Change Is Gonna Come" in 1963, and as Americans were humming it and feeling the emotions of this song, the singing star gave the money from the hit to Dr. King.
In this picture The Friends of the Earth of Northern Ireland take us to a lake west of Belfast that is endangered by fracking. The Stop Shopping Choir is covered with our bee dolls and tulle fabric hives. Savitri is our Queen Bee today (we take turns.) We are singing and telling stories, and we did this for a long time, letting the life of the place come up through us. The gentleman on the right is a permaculturist and friend. Lena improvises her lake song and believe or not bees buzz around us and walk on our shoulders. Then an old fisherman who was listening to us came over and told us a tall tale about New York.
Can the stuff of compelling stories be reawakened in us? Can the bees get us singing again?