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It might begin like this: "Hello, my name is [your name here]. I am a
petroleum addict. I've tried Valvoline, Vaseline, kerosene, gasoline,
jet fuel, diesel, and natural gas. I've even tried plastics."
The first step to recovery, after all, is admitting you have a
problem. It's hard, but that's the way it goes.
Before any real recovery, of course, one must hit bottom -- the real
kind of bottom, too, not the "worst hangover of my life, I'm never doing
that again" bottom that always precedes a relapse.
In this case, true bottom is readily apparent in a Gulf of Mexico
infused with toxic petroleum, in endangered sea turtles seared alive by
controlled-burn cleanups, in the collapse of sea-based industries like
oystering and tourism, in baby albatross bellies laden with
indigestible, toxic plastic, and, of course, the telltale sign: our
chief-addicts-in-charge babbling on CNN in complete denial,
saying,"We're fine. We can handle it. It's really not as bad as it
looks. We can stop anytime."
Except, we can't.
But, what if our government took the first step and heeded the
intervention playing out before our eyes in the Gulf of Mexico and
elsewhere? Several Presidents have admitted our addiction to oil, but
none so far has had the 4:00am-man-in-the-mirror moment and said,
"Enough."
Before we go on, let's define "addiction" so that we can understand
our own complicity in setting the ocean ablaze and in robbing our
children of their future.
ad*DIC*tion, noun: compulsive physiological need for and use of a
habit-forming substance (as heroin, nicotine, or alcohol) characterized
by tolerance and by well-defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawal;
broadly: persistent compulsive use of a substance known by the user to
be physically, psychologically, or socially harmful.
Sound like anyone you know? We're compulsive users for sure. And,
yes, the substance is physically and socially harmful. If you look
carefully, you will see the symptoms of tolerance and withdrawal, too:
the ability to consume massive quantities, and the irrational,
often-imagined pain reaction to quitting. When you are addicted, your
body requires the chemical.
The dealers might be right, you know: the problem is us. We are
addicts. This mega-industry is merely answering a societal need, just
responding to an insatiable, albeit self-destructive demand. "If we
don't do it, someone else will" they argue.
But, what if, for the sake of argument, we are not "addicts" at all,
but rather hopelessly co-dependent on a gargantuan industrial complex
and the mass production of petrochemicals? In that case, getting off
the stuff wouldn't be as hard as we fear. What if beating the addiction
was simply a matter of making different choices; choices that have been
available to us all along, but actively and intentionally obscured by
the dealers who don't want us to see them?
Clinically addicted or not, let's give it a shot. Let's kick the
petroleum habit.
Here's our Twelve-Step Program fresh from International Petrolholics
Anonymous:
Step 1. We admitted WE chose to feel powerless over oil and
plastics--that our lives had become toxic and dependent.
Step 2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves--lucidity
and responsibility--and some voice deep inside whispering "oil is
wrong" could restore us to sanity.
Step 3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the
care of our individual communities, as we understood them.
Step 4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our homes
and lifestyles where oil and its products, such as plastics, were
present.
Step 5. Admitted to ourselves, and to other human beings, the exact
nature of our engagement with petroleum.
Step 6. Exorcised the need for a perceived "easier life" in favor of
conscious living.
Step 7. Humbly admitted our shortcomings, our internal combustion
engines and our bottled water.
Step 8. Made a list of all persons, animals, oceans, ozone, children,
ourselves, plants we have harmed, and became willing to make amends to
them all.
Step 9. Made direct amends to the entire living planet wherever
possible.
Step 10. Continued to take personal inventory and, when we were
wrong, promptly changed it.
Step 11. Sought--through the sale of our stocks in companies engaged
in petroleum mining and production, reduction in the size and/or change
in means of propulsion of our cars, refusal of single-use plastics, not
feeling goofy for saying "no" to a straw, feeling good about using our
own bags, not drinking water from plastic bottles--to improve our
conscious contact with our one-and-only planet as we understood Her.
Step 12. Having had a spiritual/practical/pragmatic/reasonable
awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message
to people, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
We can engage the patterns of addiction and do what millions of
addicts have done: come to grips, band together, use a proven structure
to free ourselves, hold ourselves and others responsible for toxic
behaviors, and be relentless in our desire to change.
So, let's do it. Let's start Petrolholics Anonymous. Meetings can
begin just about anywhere: in a cafe, a basement, or a patio starting
tomorrow. It will work. Will you be there? If so, can you bring some
guacamole and chips?
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
It might begin like this: "Hello, my name is [your name here]. I am a
petroleum addict. I've tried Valvoline, Vaseline, kerosene, gasoline,
jet fuel, diesel, and natural gas. I've even tried plastics."
The first step to recovery, after all, is admitting you have a
problem. It's hard, but that's the way it goes.
Before any real recovery, of course, one must hit bottom -- the real
kind of bottom, too, not the "worst hangover of my life, I'm never doing
that again" bottom that always precedes a relapse.
In this case, true bottom is readily apparent in a Gulf of Mexico
infused with toxic petroleum, in endangered sea turtles seared alive by
controlled-burn cleanups, in the collapse of sea-based industries like
oystering and tourism, in baby albatross bellies laden with
indigestible, toxic plastic, and, of course, the telltale sign: our
chief-addicts-in-charge babbling on CNN in complete denial,
saying,"We're fine. We can handle it. It's really not as bad as it
looks. We can stop anytime."
Except, we can't.
But, what if our government took the first step and heeded the
intervention playing out before our eyes in the Gulf of Mexico and
elsewhere? Several Presidents have admitted our addiction to oil, but
none so far has had the 4:00am-man-in-the-mirror moment and said,
"Enough."
Before we go on, let's define "addiction" so that we can understand
our own complicity in setting the ocean ablaze and in robbing our
children of their future.
ad*DIC*tion, noun: compulsive physiological need for and use of a
habit-forming substance (as heroin, nicotine, or alcohol) characterized
by tolerance and by well-defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawal;
broadly: persistent compulsive use of a substance known by the user to
be physically, psychologically, or socially harmful.
Sound like anyone you know? We're compulsive users for sure. And,
yes, the substance is physically and socially harmful. If you look
carefully, you will see the symptoms of tolerance and withdrawal, too:
the ability to consume massive quantities, and the irrational,
often-imagined pain reaction to quitting. When you are addicted, your
body requires the chemical.
The dealers might be right, you know: the problem is us. We are
addicts. This mega-industry is merely answering a societal need, just
responding to an insatiable, albeit self-destructive demand. "If we
don't do it, someone else will" they argue.
But, what if, for the sake of argument, we are not "addicts" at all,
but rather hopelessly co-dependent on a gargantuan industrial complex
and the mass production of petrochemicals? In that case, getting off
the stuff wouldn't be as hard as we fear. What if beating the addiction
was simply a matter of making different choices; choices that have been
available to us all along, but actively and intentionally obscured by
the dealers who don't want us to see them?
Clinically addicted or not, let's give it a shot. Let's kick the
petroleum habit.
Here's our Twelve-Step Program fresh from International Petrolholics
Anonymous:
Step 1. We admitted WE chose to feel powerless over oil and
plastics--that our lives had become toxic and dependent.
Step 2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves--lucidity
and responsibility--and some voice deep inside whispering "oil is
wrong" could restore us to sanity.
Step 3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the
care of our individual communities, as we understood them.
Step 4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our homes
and lifestyles where oil and its products, such as plastics, were
present.
Step 5. Admitted to ourselves, and to other human beings, the exact
nature of our engagement with petroleum.
Step 6. Exorcised the need for a perceived "easier life" in favor of
conscious living.
Step 7. Humbly admitted our shortcomings, our internal combustion
engines and our bottled water.
Step 8. Made a list of all persons, animals, oceans, ozone, children,
ourselves, plants we have harmed, and became willing to make amends to
them all.
Step 9. Made direct amends to the entire living planet wherever
possible.
Step 10. Continued to take personal inventory and, when we were
wrong, promptly changed it.
Step 11. Sought--through the sale of our stocks in companies engaged
in petroleum mining and production, reduction in the size and/or change
in means of propulsion of our cars, refusal of single-use plastics, not
feeling goofy for saying "no" to a straw, feeling good about using our
own bags, not drinking water from plastic bottles--to improve our
conscious contact with our one-and-only planet as we understood Her.
Step 12. Having had a spiritual/practical/pragmatic/reasonable
awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message
to people, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
We can engage the patterns of addiction and do what millions of
addicts have done: come to grips, band together, use a proven structure
to free ourselves, hold ourselves and others responsible for toxic
behaviors, and be relentless in our desire to change.
So, let's do it. Let's start Petrolholics Anonymous. Meetings can
begin just about anywhere: in a cafe, a basement, or a patio starting
tomorrow. It will work. Will you be there? If so, can you bring some
guacamole and chips?
It might begin like this: "Hello, my name is [your name here]. I am a
petroleum addict. I've tried Valvoline, Vaseline, kerosene, gasoline,
jet fuel, diesel, and natural gas. I've even tried plastics."
The first step to recovery, after all, is admitting you have a
problem. It's hard, but that's the way it goes.
Before any real recovery, of course, one must hit bottom -- the real
kind of bottom, too, not the "worst hangover of my life, I'm never doing
that again" bottom that always precedes a relapse.
In this case, true bottom is readily apparent in a Gulf of Mexico
infused with toxic petroleum, in endangered sea turtles seared alive by
controlled-burn cleanups, in the collapse of sea-based industries like
oystering and tourism, in baby albatross bellies laden with
indigestible, toxic plastic, and, of course, the telltale sign: our
chief-addicts-in-charge babbling on CNN in complete denial,
saying,"We're fine. We can handle it. It's really not as bad as it
looks. We can stop anytime."
Except, we can't.
But, what if our government took the first step and heeded the
intervention playing out before our eyes in the Gulf of Mexico and
elsewhere? Several Presidents have admitted our addiction to oil, but
none so far has had the 4:00am-man-in-the-mirror moment and said,
"Enough."
Before we go on, let's define "addiction" so that we can understand
our own complicity in setting the ocean ablaze and in robbing our
children of their future.
ad*DIC*tion, noun: compulsive physiological need for and use of a
habit-forming substance (as heroin, nicotine, or alcohol) characterized
by tolerance and by well-defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawal;
broadly: persistent compulsive use of a substance known by the user to
be physically, psychologically, or socially harmful.
Sound like anyone you know? We're compulsive users for sure. And,
yes, the substance is physically and socially harmful. If you look
carefully, you will see the symptoms of tolerance and withdrawal, too:
the ability to consume massive quantities, and the irrational,
often-imagined pain reaction to quitting. When you are addicted, your
body requires the chemical.
The dealers might be right, you know: the problem is us. We are
addicts. This mega-industry is merely answering a societal need, just
responding to an insatiable, albeit self-destructive demand. "If we
don't do it, someone else will" they argue.
But, what if, for the sake of argument, we are not "addicts" at all,
but rather hopelessly co-dependent on a gargantuan industrial complex
and the mass production of petrochemicals? In that case, getting off
the stuff wouldn't be as hard as we fear. What if beating the addiction
was simply a matter of making different choices; choices that have been
available to us all along, but actively and intentionally obscured by
the dealers who don't want us to see them?
Clinically addicted or not, let's give it a shot. Let's kick the
petroleum habit.
Here's our Twelve-Step Program fresh from International Petrolholics
Anonymous:
Step 1. We admitted WE chose to feel powerless over oil and
plastics--that our lives had become toxic and dependent.
Step 2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves--lucidity
and responsibility--and some voice deep inside whispering "oil is
wrong" could restore us to sanity.
Step 3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the
care of our individual communities, as we understood them.
Step 4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our homes
and lifestyles where oil and its products, such as plastics, were
present.
Step 5. Admitted to ourselves, and to other human beings, the exact
nature of our engagement with petroleum.
Step 6. Exorcised the need for a perceived "easier life" in favor of
conscious living.
Step 7. Humbly admitted our shortcomings, our internal combustion
engines and our bottled water.
Step 8. Made a list of all persons, animals, oceans, ozone, children,
ourselves, plants we have harmed, and became willing to make amends to
them all.
Step 9. Made direct amends to the entire living planet wherever
possible.
Step 10. Continued to take personal inventory and, when we were
wrong, promptly changed it.
Step 11. Sought--through the sale of our stocks in companies engaged
in petroleum mining and production, reduction in the size and/or change
in means of propulsion of our cars, refusal of single-use plastics, not
feeling goofy for saying "no" to a straw, feeling good about using our
own bags, not drinking water from plastic bottles--to improve our
conscious contact with our one-and-only planet as we understood Her.
Step 12. Having had a spiritual/practical/pragmatic/reasonable
awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message
to people, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
We can engage the patterns of addiction and do what millions of
addicts have done: come to grips, band together, use a proven structure
to free ourselves, hold ourselves and others responsible for toxic
behaviors, and be relentless in our desire to change.
So, let's do it. Let's start Petrolholics Anonymous. Meetings can
begin just about anywhere: in a cafe, a basement, or a patio starting
tomorrow. It will work. Will you be there? If so, can you bring some
guacamole and chips?