As I go about my daily routines on the farm I am enmeshed in this simple thing called permaculture. Such a fancy word for the simple life. Take care of the chickens, check on the bees as it is getting around that time of year to pull honey, how large have the beets grown, and what about those ripening pecans on the trees? How simple can one get? How about our basic needs right down to the air we breathe and the water we drink? How simple? Why all this “green” nonsense and gadgetry and technological absurdity and money, money, money! How many beds can we sleep in at once? How many burgers can we digest in a single sitting? How much electricity can we burn in a minute? How many cars can we drive at the same time? And bicycles? What exactly do we “need”? What do we want, exactly? And how do we go about getting all of it, exactly? Who do we hurt to get at “it”? How many television sitcoms will we let dictate to us some romantic version of the “real” life? Seen any movies lately? Stoked the wood stove? Planned your ultimate straw bale house? How much, by the way, per square foot? Food, water, clothing, shelter, education, isn’t this more than enough to think through? Where are we going on this runaway train? How can we slow that dang train down? And sit. And see what we are looking at? What comes between points A and B? Anything? A solar panel makes not a sustainable existence. A straw bale house makes not the ultimate hide away. Above us the jet breaking the sound barrier. Below the worms taking it all apart. Permaculture. Interesting concept. Profound in its manner. How does one really go about designing the perfect permaculture system? Observe anything unusual lately? Slow down. Protracted observation. One of the dictums. Slow down, and what the hell do we need anyway? I mean really now?