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When the natural environment is used up, unsustainable for future generations, cultures die. When Gulfs are dead, when mountaintops are removed, when forests are razed with nothing left in their place, when deer populations disappear, cultures die too.
And what’s left in the place of these cultures and traditions is an individualism that is defined simply by the appetites for sex, violence, and piling up stuff."
Sounds almost like a public service announcement from the Sierra Club, doesn't it? Check out Dr. Russell Moore's complete post on his blog - Moore to the Point - here.
Design and Drawing by James Ray Polk, Architect
In spring, thoughts turn to love. In summer – even for hopeless romantics - thoughts turn to air conditioning.
Nowadays, we Americans have all become accustomed to the expectation that every building must be equipped with air conditioning to mitigate the summer heat. Air conditioning is as ubiquitous as walls, roof, and floor in any modern home. Who could live without it? I’ll tell you who: our ancestors.
Now when I say ancestors, I’m not referring to Ice Age cave painters, I’m talking about our immediate predecessors. The first modern electric air conditioner was invented by Willis Haviland Carrier in 1902, barely over a century ago, and air conditioners did not become “standard equipment” in homes until after World War II.
That means, most likely, everybody reading this article had parents, grandparents, or great grandparents who lived much of their lives in non-air conditioned houses. How did they do it?
In short, houses were built to “be” air conditioners.
You’ve probably noticed that older homes have tall ceilings. Far from being a statement of high style, those ceilings had a purpose. They helped cool a home in the summer by taking advantage of a basic law of physics called convection. Hot air rises and cool air sinks, thus those high ceilings took into consideration the proportions of our human frame distributing the hottest air in the house to the empty space above the heads of its inhabitants.
Look closer at that vintage home and you’ll see transoms above the interior doorways. Again, the origin of this detail had nothing to do with aesthetics. Open the transoms in the summer months and hot air migrated from room to room until it escaped through a high vent. (The most elaborate vents took the form of ornate hat-shaped roof embellishments called cupolas.) And as hot air escaped, the home naturally balanced the air pressure within by drawing cooler air through large low windows under shaded porches.
Presto! - natural air conditioning.
Can we still do this today? Of course! It’s a simple matter of design. It may be a lost art, but consider this: any run-of-the-mill builder a century ago knew how to build a home that conditioned itself. It’s not rocket science. Although our reconstituted sensitivities to summer heat may require that electric air conditioning be utilized in the hottest parts of summer, especially at midday, a modern-day home can be cooled using this principle.
So if you’re planning to build a new home or renovate an existing one, think about the air flow. Use porches or landscaping to shade windows, install operable transoms, and allow the air to escape through a ceiling vent. For added comfort, add a few ceiling fans to keep the air moving.
You may not want to give up your central air, but with a little forethought, you can bring down the temperature and your summer electric bill – naturally.
The Guggenheim Museum occupied much of Mr. Wright's later years. Providentially, Solomon Guggenheim's assistant (and modern art enthusiast) Hilla Rebay suggested to her art-collecting boss that he hire Frank Lloyd Wright to design a museum for his collection after a book literally feel on her head opening to Wright's photograph. That was the mid-40's; Frank Lloyd Wright would work on the design in fits and starts for the next decade and a half. Turns out, Hilla Rebay was the critical ingredient in bringing this design into reality. She was the reason Solomon Guggenheim collected modern art, and she continually rekindled Guggenheim's on-again off-again attitude about whether or not to build the museum. A few pics:
And, for kicks, here are a few photos of the Riverview Terrace Restaurant perched over the Wisconsin River right around the corner from Taliesin. It was one of the last burst of designs he shook out of his sleeve shortly before he died in the spring of 1959.
One of my favorite Frank Lloyd Wright-designed buildings is the Society Meeting House in Madison, Wisconsin. 
As oil from BP’s deep sea well continues to spill into the Gulf of Mexico, the debate on the future of energy has shifted. “Drill, baby, drill” just lost its mojo.
With just one accident, the downside risk of fossil-fuel dependence is coming into full view, and if ever there’s an example of how ‘all things are connected,’ this is it. As if a free-flow of crude oil and gas spewing into a natural aquatic habitat isn’t bad enough, the unintended consequences are just beginning to play out. Gulf fishermen are seeing their livelihoods vanish as sheens of oil invade the fertile estuaries of the Mississippi River Delta; the tourist industry in Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida is taking it on the chin as would-be visitors steer clear of Gulf beaches; and a quarter of America’s homegrown seafood source has been placed in jeopardy.
The smoke is beginning to clear inside the crystal ball and one thing is coming into focus: Our energy future is not with fossil fuels.
Rather, the future of energy production on this planet is up in the air – literally – with solar and wind. On the surface, it’s obvious. Why drill more dirty holes in the earth to extract finite resources when an infinite supply of clean energy is right above our heads? The transition will take some time, but not as long as some would lead you to believe; when the costs of real and potential accidents like the Deepwater Horizon spill are added into the equation, wind and solar may already be a better deal.
But for now, what do we do about the damage - economic and environmental – caused by the Gulf oil spill? How are we, as a society, going to mitigate the damage and insure that future accidents are prevented when possible, and quickly remediated when necessary?
I'd love to see a modern-day CCC program funded by a fossil-fuel tax. (History geek footnote: The Civilian Conservation Corps, better known as the CCC, was a successful jobs program in the US born out of the Great Depression to put millions of unemployed people back to work while simultaneously building and maintaining American park infrastructure and helping out with natural and man-made disasters.)
Before anyone blows a head gasket over the mere mention of the word “tax,” let’s just be clear. It is as American as apple pie to expect people and businesses to take responsibility for the consequences of their actions. Otherwise, taxpayers pick up the tab. Think of it as a tipping fee – fees landfills charge to accept waste - if you’ve been conditioned to hyperventilate when you hear the word “tax.”
By matching up environmental tipping fees with the inherent risks of fossil-fuel extraction, we can put millions of unemployed and underemployed Americans to work cleaning up the Gulf of Mexico and rebuilding our natural ecosystems.
Today, the headlines may be bleak, but our energy future is bright – and windy.
