Ballagàrraidh: The Awareness That You Are Domesticated
The story of humanity is a move from the countryside to the big city. But it's happened so fast that a part of you still remembers Eden. That longs to leave your car idling in traffic, and flee into the wilderness. But there's another part of you knows that Eden is a fantasy, and you'll always be floating just above it; trailing clouds of civilization wherever you go.
From Gaelic balla gàrraidh, "garden wall."
For proper pronunciation: http://www.learngaelic.net/dictionary/?abairt=garden%20wall
THE DICTIONARY OF OBSCURE SORROWS
The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows is a compendium of invented words written by John Koenig. Each original definition aims to fill a hole in the language-to give a name to emotions we all might experience but don't yet have a word for. Follow the project, give feedback, suggest an emotion you need a word for, or just tell me about your day.
Email the author: email@example.com
Twitter @ObscureSorrows https://twitter.com/obscuresorrows
WHAT IS THAT MUSIC?
"HEART OF NATURE" BY DARYL NEIL ALEXANDER GRIFFITH
Vimeo Creative Commons Attribution License:
by Samuel Grandchamp
Vital Films - Close To Home
by Vital Films
Robot Koch - Glassdrops (Official Music Video)
by editude pictures
by SMALL BANG
ICELAND In the land of landscapes
ELENKA - Schmetterling (Music Video)
by Helgi Jóhannsson
by Yaël Bienenstock
by Jean-Philippe Angers
The Thirst for Adventure
by Aaron Rickel
Beyond the Wild Saving the Sacred Headwaters
by SUMMER RAYNE OAKES
Impressions of Greenland
by Florent Dubé
SICMANTA PRESENTS Donnie Vincents The Rivers Divide Trailer
Dark seeks dark.
by Hugo Martinez Toledo
by Daniella Golden
The Pilgrims Litany
Monster Rally - Honey
by Tyler Coray
All men are called Robert Tous les hommes sappellent Robert
by Insolence Productions
Sometimes you move through the city and feel in your bones how strange and new this all is. The spectacle of modern civilization, just barely older than you are. With all its cramped logic, the artificial faces of asphalt and black glass; its rules and gridlines and rigid justifications for why the world must be the way it is. But there's a part of you that thinks: you are not at home here. That still remembers Eden, and longs to return.
The story of humanity is a move from the countryside to the big city. But it's happened so fast our brains are still stuck in the hinterlands.
So now a part of you longs to leave your car idling in traffic, and flee into the wilderness. To live off the land, without tools or simulations, to experience nature in all its simplicity-raw, indifferent, and ferociously real. To feel the lushness and harshness of the wild, the clarity of eating and killing and growing stronger, the dumb luck of surviving the night.
But another part of you knows that Eden is a fantasy, and you'll always be floating just above it, trailing clouds of civilization wherever you go. Even our ancient symbols of nature are deeply unnatural. The plants we eat are sterile, swollen, unrecognizable to the food chain. Our domesticated animals are caricatures of their wild ancestors. The family dog is just another piece of technology, designed and bred to serve a purpose.
And you too are a domesticated animal, shrouded in synthetic fibers and synthetic thoughts. Even if you sleep in the woods with a stove and a backpack, everything from the buzzing in your ears to the howling in the distance will be trying to telling you, you are not at home here.
We need to believe in the fall from Eden. But all along, we were the ones who cast out the world. Who stripped it naked, taught it good and evil, and barricaded ourselves in a walled garden. We banished most of the world in order to get by. We couldn't handle the true state of nature-the overwhelming chaos-without first dividing it up in little boxes, in little frames, in little gardens.
Maybe we were wrong from the start. In the beginning, there was everything.