new spot.

I changed my web address to bangingonglass.blogspot.com. Before that I wanted worldoutthere.blogspot.com. But that was taken. But that's cool. I like bangingonglass even better. It's me, physically banging, knocking vigorously, trying to get out of a bubble, which is made of glass. It says that I see the world out there, without literally saying that the world is out there.

Last night I watched the story of stuff. www.storyofstuff.com. It's Annie Leonard, an environment and sustainability expert, talked about the materials economy, and telling it like it is. How our life is on a "trendmill" and we are brainwashed to work hard, come home exhausted and watch TV and get bombarded by commercials that tell us we suck, and then go out shopping to make ourselves feel better. And then, guess what, we need to work to make more money to pay for all the STUFF we just bought, then we're tired again and watch TV again, and on and on and on. And the government WANTS us to do this. Bush's advice to help us get over 9/11? Not hope, not pray, not comfort each other, but SHOP! And so we are hampsters on an endless wheel. And the nasty ever-compounding byproduct is STUFF.

This is exactly what has always been bothering me...more than anything else. How we have to share our air and our space and our land and our time with stuff. So much useless stuff. I feel like all it does is get in the way of being happy. It's clutter in more ways than one, because it clogs up your mind, your lungs, your eyes, your ears, everything. More than anything right now I want to give up my stuff for more space. More trees. More mountains and clean ocean and clean air. I want all that so much more than I want any of this inside stuff. As long as I can keep my warm socks and other things warm, I'm good.

Kay, so here's me, banging on the glass, wiping away the grime, trying to see and hear and smell the world out there.

Not sure what else I can do though. What else should I do?

There are seemingly easy answers. Open the window. Well...my windows are shrink-wrapped to keep out the cold. (And they don't even work).

I'll start thinking about that. I'll tell you when I come up with something good.