Delving into the second chapter, I am overwhelmed by the vestiges of pace and stress the Wards have packed with them from
Two thirds of Americans cannot see the Milky Way? Our home galaxy is so obscured by lights and pollution that we cannot even identify it. Even if we could, I doubt we would separate ourselves from The Office or Blackberries long enough to look. Numbed by amusement, I find myself less and less attached to reality. Even without a television, this morning I rose to partake of coffee imported from a foreign land and a bagel baked in a factory. While my mind drifts away to Swoope, my lungs draw in carbon-tinted air and I sit upon a chair from Pier One. As I ponder, I become more overwhelmed by the depth that modernity and the American Dream have penetrated my being. Despite soaking in the words of Henry Thoreau, Wendell Berry and now Logan Ward, I observe little alteration in my lifestyle. Keith Watkins used to emphasize the Latin origins of contra- (against, counter) –diction (speech). As I sit under the cool air of an electric fan typing away on a laptop computer, I embody the definition.