Terry Rogers
founding editor


art gallery
past issues
current issue

Jactancia de quietud
(Jorge Luís Borges)

Escrituras de luz embisten la sombra, más prodigiosas que meteoros.
La alta ciudad inconocible arrecia sobre el campo.
Seguro de mi vida y de mi muerte, miro los ambiciosos y quisiera
Su día es ávido como el lazo en el aire.
Su noche es tregua de la ira en el hierro, pronto en acometer.
Hablan de humanidad.
Mi humanidad está en sentir que somos voces de una misma penuria.
Hablan de patria.
Mi patria es un latido de guitarra, unos retratos y una vieja espada,
       la oración evidente del sauzal en los atardeceres.
El tiempo está viviéndome.
Más silencioso que mi sombra, cruzo el tropel de su levantada codicia.
Ellos son imprescindibles, únicos, merecedores del mañana.
Mi nombre es alguien y cualquiera.
Paso con lentitud, como quien viene de tan lejos que no espera llegar.

Contact: editors@mendacitypress.com
No longer in print.
Working on
some short stuff.
       ... All this fantastic effort -- giant machines, road networks, strip mines, conveyor belts, pipelines, slurry lines, loading towers, railway and electric train, hundred-million-dollar coal-burning power plant; ten thousand miles of high-tension towers and high-voltage power lines; the devastation of the landscape, the destruction of Indian homes and Indian grazing lands, Indian shrines and Indian burial grounds; the poisoning of the last big clean-air reservoir in the forty-eight contiguous United States, the exhaustion of precious water supplies -- all that ball-breaking labor and all that backbreaking expense and all that heartbreaking insult to land and sky and human heart, for what? All that for what?

(E. Abbey, TMWG)
       In uncertainty I am certain that underneath their topmost layers of frailty men want to be good and want to be loved. Indeed, most of their vices are attempted short cuts to love. When a man comes to die, no matter what his talents and influence and genius, if he dies unloved his life must be a failure to him and his dying a cold horror. It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try to live so that our death brings no pleasure to the world.

(John Steinbeck, East of Eden)
       The landbase is not only primary, it is everything. It is the source of all life. After all is said and done -- and usually more is said than done -- the reality is that our landbases are being killed. We can be as spiritually groovy as we want, and it won't matter. We can be as full of love as we want and it won't matter. We can be as energy efficient as we want and it won't matter. We can recycle as much as we want, and it won't matter. We can be as pacifistic as we want, and it won't matter. None of this will matter except insofar as it helps stop the murder of our landbases. It really is that simple. The health of our landbases is the gauge by which those who come after will measure us. It is the gauge by which every one of our actions must be measured.

(D. Jensen, Endgame, Vol 2)
       I am puzzled that so many religious leaders, who spiritually represent a large majority of people around the world, have hesitated to make protection of The Creation an important part of their magisterium ... Even more perplexing is the widespread conviction among Christians that the Second Coming is imminent, and that therefore the condition of the planet is of little consequence ... For those who believe in this form of Christianity, the fate of ten million other life forms indeed does not matter. This and other similar doctrines are not gospels of hope and compassion. They are gospels of cruelty and despair.

(Edward O. Wilson, The Creation: An Appeal to Save Life on Earth)
       Today we look to advancing technology to support the myth of social progress. But technology is a two-edged sword. While it extends human power on this planet, it also magnifies our instinctual craving. Our species has a long lineage, but in that evolution the social intelligence and mindful planning that makes us human arrived only recently, almost as an afterthought. By instinct we are geared for individual survival -- curious, reward-driven, and self-absorbed -- and technology is now in cahoots with that craving, having removed the natural constraints on human behavior of distance, sea and mountain.
       Human beings are poorly equipped to cope with abundance, as is evident from the U.S. experience. Seduced by the enticements of a global market, the American consumer has in recent decades fallen victim to an orgy of self-indulgence. Thus while America's productivity per person hour is comparable to that of most European nations, our material consumption per person is now greater by one-third. And there are consequences to the profligate spending. The evidence is growing that unless we Americans can impose intelligent constraint, we will soon run ourselves into the ground, not only depleting vital physical resources but also eroding the economic strength, the personal health, and the social capital that is essential to sustaining a vibrant culture.

(Peter C. Whybrow, American Mania: When More Is Not Enough)