This expression is a valiant precipitate of a philosophical posture incomprehensible for a Westerner that I heard a long time ago from the mouth of Chayton, a Hopi, student in sociology at UCLA, militant of the cause of the Navajo and Hopi Indians in the territory of the Fours corners Utah, Colorado, Arizona New Mexico. I made it my daily salvation, my mantra, the only concession I have ever made to spirituality. Somewhere in me, then opens a small fault, through which passes a ray of light, vibrating like a held note, today maybe, or tomorrow.
Yesterday, I saw that humanity is growing at the rate of 80 million people per year. This number is the balance of births, 150 millions, and the dead all causes 61 millions, is 2,7 births per second in the world. While 250 millions human beings were born, 60% wildlife was disappearing in four decades.
I dreamed that the Earth was going to go off-center, to start spinning like a rugby ball in the cosmos, because of the obese. Too heavy, humanity which grows bigger like a pig being fattened. Imagine, scientists calculate the increase in temperature, the change in climate, the height of seas and oceans. I write with the window open because of the 15 ° Celsius heat. Yes Yes ! Have the same people ever thought that humans, brainwashed cleanly by multinationals, will grow indefinitely, until they weigh so heavily that the planet will be unbalanced? Growth, that’s what it means. It doesn’t work upwards, but sideways! Soon we will have to screw up even more animal species, uproot even more trees, to make room for the bibendums! Michelin will be happy!
The end of the world is everyday. See, this world reacting to the consumerist injunction. Under the pretext of gorging on Christmas and New Year’s Day, Easter or the Trinity, at the time of a birth or that of a death, because the rest of the time we eat frozen lasagna imported from Italy. It makes you wonder if containment is not designed to create frustration. I watch them, dropped in the shops, completely drunk with shopping when they have the power, to give gifts, most of which will be resold …
The end of the world is every days, heat, 15° C, December 22, scares the hell out. See how we climb four to four the stairs to the scaffold. The most in a hurry take the elevator. Rest assured, there will not be a drop of blood. When the oval balloon starts its unbalanced course in space, we will be expelled as in a common road accident.
To be happy is always to be happy despite everything, said Sophocles. It’s certain. After all what is good? I hear here and there that a better wind is rising, because the cursed year is coming to an end. As if the year ahead should not be worse. Optimism of the will to consume, concrete, pollute, will continue to oppose the pessimism of reason, Protect the planet.
The Indians, those who experienced the most massive deportations at the beginning of the 19th century, moved west of the Mississippi, at the time when Tocqueville was taking notes, like those who live on reservations in the American West, or in the northern states and Canada, far from disappearing have multiplied. They consume and gain weight, just like everyone else.
I haven’t seen Chayton again. But I remember his smile, perfect teeth, when he planted the seed in me today is a beautiful day to die, I could never tell him how much I regret that the obsession with growth and delusional consumption have overturned the meaning of this beautiful sentence.
Yes, Tocqueville sought to know the Indians, although he only devoted a few weeks of too short a journey. But as a keen observer, he had the vision and the intuition of what was happening. This is why I quote it: We had never seen, among nations, such prodigious development, nor such rapid destruction …
He was talking about Indians, I’m talking about all of humanity.
The Club is the free expression space for Mediapart subscribers. Its contents do not engage the editorial staff.