The Xeric Conspiracy

         I never wanted to be an anarchist.

         But dammit--sometimes you have to take a stand. The anti-nature sentiment so prevalent in society today is appalling. More than that, it's devastating. Man's quest for perfection as defined by subjugating his environment to the exclusion of all things natural has progressed over the past several decades in an exponential manner. Indeed, the government calculates the entire earth will achieve man-made perfection by 31 December 2043--just six short months from now.

         It's of little consequence to me for I will be dead before that. My demise will come as my last act of civil disobedience toward the state.

         I find a sweet irony that the term Civil Disobedience was first coined by Henry David Thoreau, a man well-respected for his views on nature, in an 1849 essay entitled Resistance to Civil Government. Now, after years of the phrase denoting anything of man-made origin--war, taxes, government over-regulation--it comes full circle.

         For the record--one that will most likely be buried and forgotten after I'm gone--I post the events that led to the misrepresentation of God's ultimate command ... to "Fill the earth and bring it under your control."1  I call my testimonial The Xeric Conspiracy. Xeric is an archaic word denoting an extremely dry habitat, something our man-made world has become, and conspiracy, for what we do is indeed an evil act, though with such widespread support, I'm alone with my opinion.

         I never wanted to be alone, shunned, ridiculed, even persecuted. I didn't consider myself an idealist. I had a lovely wife, a good job; I had the respect of my peers. We were ready to start a family. But, for reasons that seem so unimportant now, the family never happened.

         Pressures at work increased caused by greater competition over fewer jobs. You know the story. Great pressure meant more stress, which caused some major health problems. I was told to get my high blood pressure under control soon, or the stroke that would be my fortune to enjoy would kill me.

         "You must take it easy. Calm down--at least when you're at home." Dr. Singh smiled as he delivered that nugget of wisdom.

         I should have asked what he had in mind. Life today is not designed to "take it easy." Every waking second should be designed to further one's position in life, to become successful. That belief was underscored by man's efforts to completely subjugate the earth. We were ruining our world as surely as we were ruining ourselves.

         The answer came to me by accident. I was searching through some archives on the Internet trying to forget the day's stresses, and discovered an obscure, defunct Omnivision show called the History Channel. An old program called Life After People caught my eye. The show detailed how fast nature reasserts her dominance over the earth without humans to keep her at bay. In as little as two weeks, an average lawn would be choked with some of the hardiest weeds and brambles a particular region might boast.

         One statement stuck with me: "The explosion of plant life in the absence of humans was akin to a schizophrenic person going off his medication. The aftermath is chaotic and almost immediate." Carefully tended, the show went on to say, nature provided a means to retreat from the cares of the day. I had found the answer to my dilemma.

         I would have a garden.

         It wasn't easy, but I planted a twenty-foot square plot with what few seeds I could find. Natural resources were tightly controlled now. Half my garden was just grass. No matter. I was free here. For almost a year, I felt alive.

         My efforts cost me the few friends I had. Social convention is a powerful thing. Tending a garden was not encouraged, and I quickly became a pariah. Even my wife left me unable to deal with the constant abuse heaped on us by former friends. Indeed, my garden was killing me as surely as work-related stress.

         The government condemned my garden, making it illegal. I was given three months to destroy it. Finally, I saw the futility in my actions. Either work would kill me, or my garden would. I made a decision ... the world would achieve perfection without me.

         I regret the generations that will never know the joy of walking barefoot through freshly cut grass, or the feel of wet earth in your hands, or the immense satisfaction of watching something you plant come to life and grow to maturity. Maybe my words will take root and grow. Subsequent generations may come to know and respect our earth.

         In that, I place my hope ... and my life.

Word Count: 810

1 Bible, Genesis 1:28 (NIV)