I keep coming up against the thought that the Agrarian/Industrial divide lies at the heart of America’s entrenched cultural and political stagnancy. Is it possible to have the best of both worlds? There’s no earthly reason why it shouldn’t be. So, what’s holding us back? In one analysis, that’s what the heart of the Civil War was about. The Industrialists won that one; now we seem to be living in a time when the worst predictions of yesteryear’s Southern Agrarians have come to pass, in terms of what the unfettered mechanization of all aspects of society would ultimately yield. The “back to the land” movement of the ‘60s reflected many of the values and ways of the Old South, but too much of that got co-opted by the mainstream juggernaut. And for what, exactly? Whose interests are being served by the present state of affairs?

From The Rhyme of the Southern Rivers: With Notes Historical, Traditional, Geographical, Etymological, etc. by Martin V. Moore, published in 1897.

NOTES ON THE RIVERS OF GEORGIA

62. OKEE-FEN-OKEE. There are various pronunciations of the name of this great swamp of Southern Georgia. The native accent is usually on the last syllable of their words. It is a remarkable fact that in the old Indian names of swamps, and of some rivers in low, marshy regions, there is found the old Celtic word for swamp, “fen.” The names Okeefenokee, Fenhalowa, and Econfenee are illustrations—the latter a Florida appellation. The term “Okee” is a well-known native word for water or river, it being a pronunciation of the Sanskrit as ogha, or a corruption of the Latin as aqua.

My father grew up in Berkeley, and my brothers and I spent lots of time there with our grandparents while we were growing up. My grandfather was from the Deep South, and he instilled the finer points of Southern culture into us from our earliest years. I could sing “Dixie” practically by the time I could talk, and our family photo albums are filled with pictures of little tow-headed boys struggling to aim rifles taller than they were, practicing up for induction into the wide world of hunting.

At the same time, Berkeley and San Francisco were Ground Zero for the latest innovations of California culture: from the beat poets to the hippies to radical environmentalists and counter-culture spiritual leaders, the edge of human potential was being pushed on numerous fronts. It was an incredibly exciting and dynamic time to be alive.

I grew up associating the stability and strength of my grandfather’s Old World conservatism with the values and principles of the counter-culture and the environmental movement. In my mind, there was no contradiction between the two. In a simpler era, this fusion might have yielded real progress on the pressing issues of the day. Instead, something ran off track a generation or so ago, and wheels have been spinning fruitlessly ever since.

From a green perspective, the current global economic slowdown offers a historic opportunity to retool the machinery of progress and set it back on the path to a better future. There’s nothing materially holding us back. I keep coming back to the idea that in crisis there is opportunity. We should be able to find our way out of the ditch if we openly and honestly examine and affirm the commonality of our interests across the artificial constructs that keep us divided.

From The Rhyme of the Southern Rivers: With Notes Historical, Traditional, Geographical, Etymological, etc. by Martin V. Moore, published in 1897.

NOTES ON THE RIVERS OF VIRGINIA

2. SHENANDOAH. This is really the Shannon-Doah, or Shannon-Toah, the final term “Toah” a well-known Indian word for river. The word has three forms in different dialects: It is found as “Taquah,” as “Toah,” and more briefly as “Tau.” The writing as “Ta-ho” is precisely the same original word. It shows origin in the germ-words “Te” and “owa,” or “au,” water, its literal significance that of deep water. All the different forms are found in the names of deep waters in various parts of the world. As Ta-ho, it is the native name of a deep lake in California. In Spain there is a deep river having the prehistoric title Ta-ho, the word appearing in the modern Spanish idiom as Tagus. In China the writing in English letters is Tai. The oldest form of the word is in the Hebrew in the writing Toah, in the name of a water, Neph-Toah. A term for water simply is found in many languages in the English writings “Owa,” “Oah,” “Owee,” “Au-wa,” and “A-haw.” The old Teutonic form of the word is “A-wa,” or in the Roman idiom “A-qua.” This, in a composite with the root-word for the deep “Te,” gives the form of the term as “Taqua” seen in the native names of many of the deep waters of America. Other forms of this word will be referred to in Note 61. The term “Shannon” in the Virginia name appears to be of more modern origin. It corresponds to the old Irish word Shannon, the name of a river in Ireland.

In loving memory of Dr. Jean Allen Battle.

Senator Harry Reid’s recently revealed remarks (from a few years ago) that Barack Obama had a decent shot at the presidency because he was “light-skinned” and could choose whether or not to use a “Negro dialect” in his public utterances should have been no more controversial than an observation that Hillary Clinton is a woman in her early sixties who dials up or down a Southern drawl depending on which constituency she is addressing. Instead, we’ve been treated to a debased spectacle of political correctness run amok. The Republicans are gleefully trying to work both sides of the street on this: tossing out verbal grenades and then sitting back to watch the Democrats scurry around on the defensive about racism.

The realities of human nature, our “winner takes all” political system and the routine brutality of capitalism all converge in the fact that individuals are always at risk of having someone try to capitalize on any perceived vulnerability. No amount of legislation (and no amount of whining about victimization) will ever eradicate this. As the old expression goes, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

In July of 2008, as the historic presidential election was hitting fever pitch, I traveled to Washington DC to visit my son, who was there as a summer intern with the Democratic National Committee. On the Fourth, before heading to the Mall for the spectacular nighttime fireworks display, we crossed the Potomac River into Virginia to spend the afternoon at Arlington National Cemetery. It was the first visit for both of us, and we stopped at the Visitor Center near the entrance to get a map and information on where a family member was buried.

We began our tour by following the crowds flocking to John F. Kennedy’s grave. Then, amidst a smaller group of fellow tourists, we headed up the hill to Arlington House, the beautiful residence with a sweeping panorama of the city that Robert E. Lee abandoned on the eve of the Civil War, never to return to again.

From there, we were on our own. We stopped in the rose garden outside Arlington House to map out the way to our relative’s grave. The path that on paper looked to be the shortest route immediately plunged steeply downhill. Given the amount of terrain we had to cover, it didn’t take long to realize we would be better off conserving our energy and keeping to the heights toward the back of the cemetery. So, we retraced our steps and headed out another way.

No-one was up there save for a few birds hopping from grave stone to grave stone. The road led through an old burial ground from the Civil War. Read more…