Dear God, let us either find our way, or wipe the slate clean.

Have I already offended - overstepping my bounds by implying both that there is a God and that we in fact are lost?

Manifest Destiny? Is it that which drives us to insensate rape of the world? Stupidity? Too much cola? When will we wake up and see that profit is not measured in dollars and investments? My rambling questions are a reflection of my emotional distress at our many mistakes up to this point.

Should not a country's success be measured in efficiency (work output over energy input/consumption) rather than how fat and senile and evil we can become? We want what we do not need. We develop (a kind word for the rending of ecosystems) unnecessarily. How we see beauty in the synthetic constructions of man nearly always escapes me. In fact, is it not perverse that the most beautiful of mankind's buildings reflect the beauty of nature? I find it hideous that religion has come into play in the past as a license to plunder nature.

Still, this is not the mad raving of ye olde disgruntled postal employee, nor am I trying to preach. It just hurts me that we are such fools when it comes to relative importance. As we call for the loosening of environmental protection laws, we deny any responsibility for what might die as we build our mini-mall.

If I have anything to say, it is this. Americans wish to dodge responsibility. If we did not, lawyers would be much less necessary in our culture. I do believe that the buck stops here. The sins of the fathers are weighed upon the sons to the seventh generations (paraphrasing - hopefully, accurately).

I believe that we have the potential for an ecological utopia. I believe that, as in a body, mental (social) health depends on physical (ecological) health. I believe that knowledge is power. I believe that we will succeed only as a part of an ecosystem, not the manipulator of such. We need not to define it, it is not political. It is global.

Repeat after me: Money is not the key to success. Profit lies not in stocks but in the future. Stop and smell the roses, and if the pollution of man's machines fills your lungs - do something. Help. Live. Love. ?