12 :
Sin Nombre@Botnet
: 07/11/12(mie)22:23:20
paprios (°D °)
Up to the time when I entered Harvard University at the age of sixteen, I
used to dream of escaping from civilization and going to live in some wild
place. During the same period, my distaste for modern life grew as I became
increasingly aware that people in industrial society were reduced to the starus
of gears in a machine, that they lacked freedom and were at the mercy of the
large organizations that controlled the conditions under which they lived.
After I entered Harvard University I took some courses in anthropology,
which taught me more about primitive peoples and gave me an appetite to
acquire some of the knowledge that enabled them to live in the wild. For
example, I wished to have their knowledge of edible plants. But I had no idea
where to get such knowledge until a couple of years later, when I discovered
to my surprise that there were books about edible wild plants. The first
such book that I bought was Stalking the WildAsparagus, by Euell Gibbons,
and after that when I was home from college and graduate school during
the summers, I went several times each week to the Cook County Forest
Preserves near Chicago to look for edible plants. At first it seemed eerie
and strange to go all alone into the forest, away from all roads and paths.
But as I came (0 know the forest and many of the plants and animals that
lived in it, the feeling of strangeness disappeared and I grew more and more
comfortable in the woodland. I also became more and more certain that I did
not want to spend my whole life in civilization, and that I wanted to go and
live in some wild place.
Meanwhile, I was doing well in mathematics. It was fun to solve
mathematical problems, but in a deeper sense mathematics was boring
and empty because for me it had no purpose. If I had worked on applied
mathematics I would have contributed to the development of the
technological society that I hated, so I worked only on pure mathematics.
But pure mathernatics was only a game. I did not understand then, and I
still do not understand, why mathematicians are content to fritter away
their whole lives in a mere game. I myself was completely dissatisfied with
such a life.
I knew what I wanted: To go and live in some wild place. But I didn't
know how to do so. In those days there were no primitivist movements, no
survivalists, and anyone who left a promising career in mathematics to go live
among forests or mountains would have been regarded as foolish or crazy. I
did not know even one person who would have understood why I wanted to
do such a thing. So, deep in my heart, I felt convinced that I would never be
able to escape from civilization.
Because I found modern life absolutely unacceptable, I grew increasingly
hopeless until, at the age of 24, I arrived at a k of crisis: I felt so miserable
ind
that I didn't care whether I lived or died. But when I reached that point,
a sudden change took place: I realized that ifI didn't care whether I lived
or died, then I didn't need to fear the consequences of anything I might
do. Therefore I could do anything I wanted. I was free! That was the great
turning-point in my life because it was then that I acquired courage,
which has remained with me ever since. It was at that time, too, that I
became certain that I would soon go to live in the wild, no matter what the
consequences. I spent two years teaching at the University of California in
order to save some money, then I resigned my position and went to look for a
place to live in the forest.
I wrote for my journal on August 14, 1983: "The fifth of August I began a
hike to the cast. I got to my hidden camp that I have in a gulch beyond what
I call "Diagonal Gulch." I stayed there through the following day, August
6. I felt the peace of the forest there. But there are few huckleberries there,
and though there are deer, there is very little small game. Furthermore, it
had been a long time since I had seen the beautiful and isolated plateau
where the various branches ofTrout Creek originate So I decided to take
off for that area on the 7th of August. A little after crossing the roads in
the neighborhood of Crater Mountain I began to hear chain saws; the
sound seemed to be coming from the upper reaches of Rooster Bill Creek. I
assumed they were cutting trees; I didn't like it but I thought I would be able
to avoid such thi ngs when I got onto the plateau. Walking across the hillsides
on my way there, I saw down below me a new road that had not been there
.
previously, and that appeared to cross one of the ridges that close in Stemple
Creek. This made me feel a little sick. Nevertheless, I went on to the plateau.
What I found there broke my heart. The plateau was criss-crossed with new
roads, broad and well-made for roads of that kind. The plateau is ruined
forever. The only thing that could save it now would be the collapse of the
technological society. I couldn't bear it. That was the best and most beautiful
and isolated place around here and I have wonderful memories of it.
"One road passed within a couple of hundred feet of a lovely spot where
I camped for a long time a few years ago and passed many happy hours. Full
of grief and rage I went back and camped by South Fork Humbug Creek. "
The next day I started for my home cabin. My route took me past a
beautiful spot, a favorite place of mine where there was a spring of pure
water that could safely be drunk without boiling. I stopped and said a kind
of prayer to the spirit of the spring. It was a prayer in which I swore that I
would take revenge for what was being done to the forest.
My journal continues: " . . . and then I returned home as quickly as I
could beeause-I have something to do!"You can guess what it was that I
had to do.
ADIVINEN QUE HIZO DESPUES
SPOILER: TECNOCRATAS MUEREN
[TRIGGER WARNING]