EXCERPT: The holiday of the future will still provide memories of strolls along sunny beaches, the sensation of sand between your toes and the peaceful rush of the ocean, but there will be one crucial difference…You won’t have ever actually been away – in fact you might not have even left your home…Instead, people will download memories to their brains to make them feel as if they have been on a sun-kissed holiday.
Homo erectus asphaltus has entered a new and dangerous labyrinth of social experimentation. Thanks to our species’ proclivity for eternal entertainment, we have evolved into creatures with a deep seated lust for the latest fickle flash, regardless of how silly or ephemeral the attraction is. In sum, we are now guinea pigs in an exotic new quasi-religion: The Cult of the New.
As pioneers of Big Data, we now have the ability to communicate with the Cosmos simply by feeding Siri our present coordinates. It is an age whereby potentially nefarious threats to our merry-go-round cultural fantasy can be dismissed with the help of modern science and its hierarchy of ever-evolving technological gadgetry (tongue piercing and garish tattoos notwithstanding). Welcome to the Dimformation Age!
To read more of Mudd’s article, click the image below:
My first trip on the Colorado River system excited me greatly. The trip list: Jim Dean, Malcolm “Moki Mac” Ellingston and Al Quist, and other veteran river runners. We became life-long friends as it was such an eventful trip; I knew now what my life’s profession was destined to be.
To read more of Ken Sleight’s Article, Click the Image Below:
Of course, the Utah legislature had to blame
Someone for steeply declining numbers
Of mule deer and other hunted game
Animals — it couldn’t be the hunters
Themselves, or the fossil fuel industry
Building drill pads on the winter range,
Or suburban sprawl in river valleys
Where deer went to drink. Political campaigns
Depend on those people. Wolves, exiled
From the state, had left a vacancy
For a large predator, coyotes filled it
And found themselves hunted for bounty:
Fifty dollars paid for each dead skin.
Run fast, be safe, my wily little ones.
To read more of Amy’s poetry, click the image below:
Widely recognized as one of the best indie papers in the American West, The Zephyr combines humor, history, honesty and artistry in its coverage of environmental issues. With a motto of “Hopelessly clinging to the past since 1989”, the Canyon Country Zephyr is all about Old West meets New West. (greenplanetfilms.org) About the Editor: “Some […]more →