So after a series of posts on empire and warfare, this one seems to be coming out of the blue. It all eventually connects, as everything tends to do, though that can mean quite a long story. This was just one of the fleeting thoughts I had as this remodel wraps up and I get back on the road.
Many of us carry the statistics in our head of how much construction waste contributes to the landfills. More personal and spiritual experiences with the waste however remain restricted to those directly handling it. Still more restricted is the number of those really absorbing what it all means.
This is because commercial construction is hard. There is a lot of money involved, and a lot of scrutiny on those working, and those working have to work hard and steadily while attempting to make as few mistakes as possible. The crews are often self-policed by those contractors anxious to continue winning bids and projects in a highly competitive environment, at least depending on the part of the industry you're working in.
You want to waste as little as possible of course - your job often depends on it - but really everyone has to work hard and fast to get the thing done, and you just don't want to think about it. The stuff you're demo-ing and tearing down? That's headed for the dumpster, preferably something that is mechanized that will be carted off as soon as its full so you don't have to worry about it anymore.
Many of these materials are heavy and make a mess. Sorting them and recycling them is a nightmare, especially if the project is on a tight timeframe and there is a huge quantity of new material coming in. And there is always a portion of the new material that is wasted too, as it can be difficult to estimate just how much is required to finish the job: too much and it gets wasted, at least what is cut and worked on. Some of it can be taken back. And then too little of it and the job gets put on hold and someone has to go get more.
And then there are the concrete caked buckets, the dirty rags, the piles of heterogenous debris, the partial cans of sticky paint, the soiled plastics such as gloves and packaging and temporary tools and guides, and so on. All of that stuff gets tossed, and as quickly as possible. And then it goes to the landfill, hopefully also as quickly as possible, so the dumpster is freed up for the next huge load.
There is a lot of material constantly moving, a lot of weight, which is hard work to move and a lot of it is stuff you no longer want to touch or be in contact with. Space is limited, transport and disposal is expensive, and its gotta go.
Through this process, a particular spiritual cadence starts to pick up. All of this waste is difficult to handle and manage, and it is much easier if it is all just transported away and done away with. With a vague sense of guilt, but then much more relief, you just want to part with it and be done with it, and not see it again or deal with it any longer. There is a sort of revulsion, and sometimes fear, of those hazardous materials that you're supposed to handle with gloves, or with a face mask, or both, and those are to be thrown out as soon as you're done with them and as soon as possible.
What might start to become apparent is the unidirectional flow of these materials, which have a spiritual origin of their own. A lot of this stuff is incredible stuff in many ways, the product of generations and even centuries and millennia of research and human ingenuity and invention. But a lot of it functions as a way to make things decisively dead and no longer moving around. I want to get more into this "dead things" question, which I won't do here, but intend to soon enough.
These materials are a way to freeze the earth into a shape pleasing to one's provincial comfort, and to get up out of the dirt and further and further from the ground, whether up higher or further inside and sealed off, and to turn away from the outside. And then after these materials have served their purposes, they are to be cast away, far away, and buried or incinerated or digested, out of sight and out of mind. Underneath the glossy and sleek surfaces of this higher form of production and habitation is a basic life denial. That's something we'll have to elaborate on later.
