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In an era when incomprehensibly complex issues like Peak Oil and Climate Change dominate headlines, practical solutions at a local level can seem somehow inadequate. In response, Lyle Estill's Small is Possible introduces us to "hometown security," with this chronicle of a community-powered response to resource depletion in a fickle global economy. True stories, springing from the soils of Chatham County, North Carolina, offer a positive counter balance to the bleakness of our age. This is the story of how one small southern US town found actual solutions to actual problems. Unwilling to rely on government and wary of large corporations, these residents discovered it is possible for a community to feed itself, fuel itself, heal itself and govern itself. This book is filled with newspaper columns, blog entries, letters and essays that have appeared on the margins of small town economies. Tough subjects are handled with humor and finesse. Compelling stories of successful small businesses from the grocery co-op to the biodiesel co-op describe a town and its people on a genuine quest for sustainability. Everyone interested in sustainability, local economy, small business, and whole foods will be inspired by the success stories in this book.
Poetry. Entropy is a term most commonly associated with a state of disorder, randomness, or uncertainty, and by one sociological definition is the natural decay of structure (such as law, organization, and convention) in a social system. It might well be said, then, that we are living in an age of entropy, and who better than a poet to address this state, since poets both before and since Yeats have long documented things falling apart, centers no longer holding. Estill Pollock's new poetry collection by this title (his first to be published in the US) is a worthy addition to the poetry of entropy, and he wastes no time getting to it: his opening lines, Asides to Walt Whitman..., are full of images of war and pestilence, the stink of babies three days dead / In Sudan, the boy staring back at the camera / His belly like a poisoned pup's. Thus from the outset we encounter poems that are both steeped in literary tradition (where Byron and Bob Dylan appear back to back) and passionately responsive to current events and human tragedy. And it is the former, the literary mastery, that keeps the latter from overwhelming us and making this a grim undertaking. Rather, it is a dazzling excursion into the delights of language, by a poet equally adept at description (as in the poignant Visitor Hours watching an old friend descending into dementia) and at invention (see Strata, a modern myth of a secret within secret, of an alien ship discovered beneath an archeological dig, its hull a silk persuasion of stars / and strategies cut from deeper dark.) In his poetry, Pollock confronts the chaos of entropy and creates order out of the fragments of a broken world--at least for a time, however long it may last. Near the end, in the appropriately titled What no longer holds he concedes I could not outrun the patience of graves // I have borrowed your heartbeat to tell you this.
Voices from the vanguard of environmental change.