Ashamed

I'm ashamed to be part of this human race. Ashamed of our generation that just stood by as we killed this planet. Ashamed of how we single-handedly destroyed this once spectacular biosphere.

I'm ashamed of my friend who wrote to me "Sorry for the next generation, but I am glad that I'll be long gone when this planet gets hit by all the natural disasters brought about by human selfishness." She's the same one who said "So Tokyo is going host the 2020 Olympics.  Didn't think so when she became a candidate, but it definitely is exciting.  Hope it helps the economy as well as changing Japan in a positive manner."

I'm ashamed of Japan and our Dishonest Abe, though I suspect that PM Abe could more insane than dishonest. Or much more Machiavellian. 

"We have things under control."

Yeah. Like the media. Like the minds of the masses.

Nothing is under control at Fukushima. The spent fuel pool for Reactor Four is a veritable Sword of Damocles. Contaminated water is gushing into the ocean. Not a single person knows how to get it under control.

But Abe wants to just put a tarp over the whole matter and I am beginning to feel like the rest of the country does, too. "If we stop thinking about it, it will go away." "Yes, we CAN ignore it forever."

A whole segment of Japan is being cut off and forgotten. Fukushima is being sacrificed. Japan's good at playing dumb when it comes to inconvenient truths.

This isn't the first time. Okinawa was sacrificed during World War II. Hundreds of thousands of young men and women were sacrificed. Hundreds of thousands of regular people -- old folks, mothers, fathers, children -- were sacrificed. All for the greed of a few.

Another One Bites the Dust

Vermont Yankee to close!

The Joys of Mutation: How to Survive in a Post-Apocalyptic World

Our naivete during the 50's and 60's when we thought a bomb shelter would protect us from a nuclear holocaust. We'll just stay inside for a few days and then come out... Like, what, we'd be able to grow anything on our land? Like, the seas would produce anything that wasn't lethal?

No, science fact is much scarier than science fiction.

I'm beginning to think our best chances for survival lie in mutating.

Instead of making corn that's Round-Up resistant, hey, Monsanto, how about some human genetic modifications so we can co-exist with Cesium 137 and Strontium 90 and Plutonium and…..

"Get A Job!" vs "Save Your Future!"

It's was sort of Spinal Tap. I sure thought so when we gathered in front of City Hall in downtown San Luis Obispo early Tuesday morning.

That was the day that The Monk was walking from City Hall to the gates of Diablo Canyon. We had been posting messages for days, encouraging others to join us. I had no idea who might show up.

Activist Chikako and I arrived first. There was no crowd in front of City Hall, but maybe individuals were hiding until it looked like something might be happening.

Maybe that guy over there at the bus station is a "could be" participant. Or that one over there, hanging out on the corner.

They weren't. In fact, the only other people to show up were The Monk, The Artist who was housing The Monk, and The Native American Activist.

This is the reality. Despite Fukushima having nuked half the world forever; despite decades of pain and suffering in all aspects of the nuclear industry from mining to processing to storage of nuclear waste; despite the horrors of HIroshima and Nagasaki, Three Mile Island and Chernobyl; despite generations saddled with birth defects caused directly by the depleted uranium in dirty bombs; despite the fact that our future is so on the edge it's probably over it… Despite all of that, most people just don't care. Many just don't know. Others know some but not much. Still others know (or suspect) but they don't think it's as bad as it is. And there are always the handful who seriously believe that no matter what the source or amount of radiation, it's all a-okay.

That is our reality and it was a tiny kick to my gut. (I am also realizing that there must have been many people who wanted to but couldn't participate because of jobs. But knowing how many retirees are in our community…hmmm.)

We were all a bit disappointed but that didn't dampen our conviction or our commitment. The struggle is a long one and those who have been fighting for decades have been able to find their own motivation for what they do.

The Native Activist performed a prayer, burning cedar instead of sage. "Cedar represents the east, so for Hiroshima and Nagasaki, I am using cedar instead of sage," she explained, 

Our tiny, motley crew was joined by another activist a few miles down. I love these women! They are not your ordinary mothers and grandmothers. They are FIERCE and FEARLESS, yet seem to be such spectacular peacemakers. I am so curious about who they are, it's all I can do to hold back from poking and prodding out all their past details. But that's a whole 'nuther story.

We took turns walking and driving.

We stopped at a local charter school (closed for the summer) for lunch and were joined by our German nuclear waste expert and his lovely wife.

We all walked the last mile or so to the gates of hell. I mean, gates of Diablo Canyon. We had grown to the magical number 7, the exact number of syllables in The Monk's chant: Na-mu-myo-ho-ren-ge-kyo.

Avila Beach was hopping with tourists and campers, the entire stretch of road lined with huge, expensive RVs.

In a small space between the monster RVs, The Monk stood, banging his drum, chanting his chant. Most people hadn't a clue why we were there. Nor did they care.

One guy saw our No Nukes sign and said incredulously, "No nukes? What? You mean there're nukes here???"

Another man rode by and yelled "Get a job!" It was both sad and funny. It was funny because most of us were retired. We all had jobs. Most of us had wonderful careers. For The Monk, this was his job. It was sad because a job is nothing when there is no future. It was also sad thinking that this man probably would not have yelled that to someone who looked like a member of a Christian group (I am thinking, Catholic priest, Presbyterian minister, Baptist preacher and so on.) Sad, too, how there is a huge bias against religions other than Christianity. How many times have you snickered at a Hare Krishna group?

Humankind is such a dysfunctional group. It's no wonder we have the problems we have. Without changing who we are, collectively, can we really change the world? Can we really hope for a nuclear free future? Can we hope for world peace?

I have no answers, but I do know this. No matter how far away the goal, the only way towards it is step by step. And that's the prayer and lesson of a Peace Walk.

The Activist Me

It's been several weeks of being Farm Woman. Canning, freezing, drying stone fruit. Harvesting peppers and tomatoes and corn and greens. Making my weekly homemade pasta dishes -- I finally got a manual pasta maker! Ravioli are not too bad, tortellinis are a bitch, spaghetti and tagliatelle are a cinch -- on top of my weekly sourdough loaves. Tending all the living and growing things. Trying to avoid dealing with gophers and squirrels. (That's Farm Man's job but there is no Farm Man here. Only Big Dog and he does not think he lives on a farm. "It's a RANCH," he'll correct anyone who might call our place a "farm." When they ask what the difference is, all he says is "A ranch is more macho.")

But somewhere along the way, I got way in over my head on an anti-nuke event.

I was already preparing for another tv program that our local anti-nukers make for public access tv when email traffic brings the issue of a Buddhist monk my way. He's been living in the US for nearly 2 decades but his English is hard for Americans to understand and the other member of my group wanted to help but were not quite sure what is what he wanted to do.

"I'll contact him in Japanese," I volunteer.

Everyone let go. 

Don't let go! Don't trust me to deal with this properly!

As I communicated with him, I began to realize that I was the head and focal point. Oh my god. What am I doing? I hadn't a clue.

The Monk wanted to do a "Peace Walk" from Vandenberg Air Force base to San Luis Obispo, then a 3-day fast and prayer session in front of the Diablo Canyon Nuclear Power Plant.

How does this whole thing work? What is the route of The Walk? Where does he stay? Who drives him? Accommodations, food, transportation... There were so many logistical matters.

While I am trying to figure all of this out, a new email comes in. An activist from Fukushima will be on the West Coast around the same time. How about having her and The Monk as speakers for our Hiroshima/Nagasaki Anniversary Event? The logistical details grow both in size and complexity.

I haven't figured anything out and ANOTHER email arrives. The author of Devil's Tango: How I Learned The Fukushima Step by Step also wants to be here around the same time. Cool! Three guest speakers! But now, the planning gets even more complicated.

Hey, this is not the first time I've had to quickly put something together. It's not the first time I've been in charge of a project, I tell myself. But I realize quickly that this is different. In my past life, I've always done things as a JOB. Meaning there was someone with a lot of money and usually it was my job to do it under budget. I had different parameters. I never had to figure out how to organize events with NO MONEY. I never had to go around asking so many people to donate their time, energy, space, etc.

I started freaking out. I started imagining the entire thing unraveling into a huge, un-laughable Spinal Tap sort of nightmare.

I am a terrible planner. I seem to be better at going with the flow. So for tonight, I will just breathe deeply and hope for the best. The Monk arrives tomorrow and the whole Peace Week will begin and then, what happens, happens. If it turns into a disaster, well, I guess I won't ever be doing this again.

What the %$#@ is wrong with Noda!

It is mindboggling. To the max. I just cannot understand how he can allow the restart of the Oi nukes. After what happened in Fukushima? What the %$#@ is wrong with him? Is he completely braindead?

I Have A Secret

Well, I have many secrets. but the one I'm going to share with you is.....

Japan will never be a nuclear nation again. The aftertaste of a disaster is too disgusting. They have lost their ambivalence towards the nuclear age. They have lost the will to be a nuclear nation.

(whoopee.)

I'm not shouting it. I am whispering it, under my breath. I, like millions of Japanese, can't help but feel our good future will be jinxed by... well, hubris. Wasn't over-confidence what gave us Fukushima to begin with? We are cautious. We don't rejoice prematurely. but deep inside we have this sweet (and secret) hopefulness.

Fifity three reactors down. One more to go.

Roots and Grassroots

Here in the U.S., the news is all about 9-11, but for me, today is six months since the massive earthquake and tsunami in northeastern Japan. Six months since the nuclear power plant at Fukushima Daiichi blew up.

The disasters had affected me far deeper than was apparent on a conscious level. This has been the least productive year for me in terms of anything creative. I've been happy to find comfort in watching things grow, but have done too little writing or drawing or any other kind of creating. I'm happy to just be doing ranch work. Much to Big Dog's delight, he hasn't had to listen to me complain about not having enough time for both ranch work and my own. To his slight annoyance, however, I am becoming more and more involved with our local anti-nuke group.

My little paradise here is an Eden, but just south of it lies the Canyon of the Devil -- the Diablo Canyon Nuclear Facility.

"Why did you decide to live there, so close to the nukes?" friends asked in disbelief.
Because it was the nicest ranch we looked at?
Because we thought it was better to fight the nuclear industry than to ignore it?
Because when you can't see something, you forget about it?
All of the above was true.

Of course, now, we know that whether you are 5 miles away or 50 or 150, you are just as vulnerable. There are hot spots all over Japan, some of them more than 200 miles away from Fukushima.

When I came back to the ranch in the spring, I knew I had to do something, so I contacted Mothers For Peace who was holding an anti-nuke rally in Avila in April. It was a smallish demonstration, but I got to meet and speak to a few of the members. My involvement has been gradual -- there's still a part of me that is uncomfortable being a part of any organization, and I am hesitant to be too conspicuous politically, being a guest of this country. At the same time, I have my connection to Japan as well as other skills that could be of use to MFP. Most of all, I can't bear to think our beautiful area could be destroyed in an instant. I want to wake everyone up from their complacency. I want the local farmers and ranchers, as well as the tourism industry, to join forces -- they are the ones who will be most affected should there be an accident at Diablo Canyon.

I am slowly becoming more and more of an activist and in the process, slowly being sucked back into my former life in media.

But something else is happening. While fighting the power (company) at the grassroots level, I find myself developing real roots in our community. I'm meeting people, getting involved with the community, spreading my wings, venturing out, facing new challenges (even if some of them seem small, like driving on the freeway, or at night, or in the fog.) The 3-11 triple disaster did a lot of shaking up, literally and figuratively. Has it shaken me out of my blissful solitude?

Ready for all of this to be turned into a giant Dead Zone? I'm not!

Last Day in Japan

Plutonium is leaking from the Fukushima nuclear power plant... Politicians who were bought out by TEPCO are madly trying to get rid of Prime Minister Kan... Commercial media (also bought out) makes it seem like he is being brought down by his ineffectualness during the crisis... People who rely only on TV for information are swayed... Soon, another politician bribed by TEPCO will be in power and Kan's promise of shutting down Fukushima by January (including getting rid of all radioactive materials -- not sure how, but there have been many discussions of methods to do so) will disappear like so many homes in the tsunami... Tokyoites are forgetting the lessons of only a few weeks ago, tired of being in post-disaster mode... It's starting to heat up here and those who swore to reduce their air con use are now saying "shoganai yo ne (can't be helped), we can't possibly get through the summer without it"...

Only a little while ago, I thought the Japanese were on the right track. The population is highly educated, hard working -- we can get through this and make the country even better, I thought. My optimism is crumbling.

I want to go back to the hills and the fields, the forests and my garden, the life I love. But I am also torn. I feel like I need to stay and be a part of the solution. It's making me crazy on my last day in Japan.

Urgent!!

Email from Tokyo:

Dear Friends,
I do not normally bombard my friends and family with petitions, but this is critical. We live on a ranch in Central California -- an area that is breathtakingly beautiful -- AND only a few miles from the Diablo Canyon Nuclear Power Plant.

I am in Japan right now where the nuclear disaster is an on-going nightmare. It is the beginning of rainy season and damaged facilities at Fukushima Daiichi are now being flooded with rain water -- the new threat of radioactive contamination. We wait anxiously to see what else may happen, as the radioactive materials seep into groundwater.

There's only been a trickle of new news about Fukushima in the US/World media, but here, it is a daily reality. The newspapers are filled with new information, as are the tv shows. Daily regional radiation counts appear in the newspaper like weather forecasts, or sports scores. It is surreal.

The anti-nuclear movement has been put on hyperspeed in Japan. One good thing to come out of the Fukushima disaster. People who have been working hard, despite opposition from pro-nuke neighbors and government, are finally beginning to feel like their decades-long struggle has not been in vain. The other day, there was a news item on tv about a lady who lives 300 meters from a nuclear plant they had just started to construct. She was the only one who refused to sell her land to the power company!! It was a tiny house (a small log house she built herself for her mother!) but equipped with solar panels and wind turbines. In a conformist country, you can imagine the kind of struggles she's had to go through. But she was feeling optimistic, at last. The plant's construction has been put on hold for the moment and she hopes it will be canceled. She was saying how glad she was that things have started to change before they had brought in any radioactive materials.

Another news item was about rural areas trying to do small-scale hydroelectric, using the abundant streams and rivers without damaging the environment. Everyone is thinking of renewable energy. I believe a non-nuclear future IS possible -- if we all work together.

It is raining today, too. Back on the ranch, I can go outside, spread my arms and enjoy a downpour. Here, I will be covered from head to toe. I am reminded of the line from Joni Mitchell's song Big Yellow Taxi. "You don't know what you've got til it's gone." PLEASE click here. PLEASE forward this to as many people as possible.

With gratitude and respect,
Bad-Dog