Slaughterhouse, supercluster, vortex and gross domestic happiness

I sometimes wonder why I don't write about on my blog the kinds of things that catch my interest in daily life, and which I might mention in e-mails to the one or two people who keep in touch with me. I think it's because I generally neglect my blog until the pressure of frustration overflows, so that I usually end up posting some species of rant. It's not really that I don't mean what I say so much as… I don't know what it is, actually. Maybe I feel like I'm imprisoning myself in a very limited persona or something. Anyway, I thought I'd briefly mention some of the things that have caught my attention recently. Then again, I feel like I really want to keep anything 'positive' to myself. I think that is a kind of misanthropy, actually – it's a misanthropy that can be understood by analysis of the word 'unspoilt'. An unspoilt region is generally a region with not many people, and preferably none at all. The irony with which we should all be familiar by now is that when human beings, in their longing for the unspoilt, try and go there, it is no longer unspoilt; they have spoilt it, by definition, with their own rancid presence. I suppose this touches on my feelings about writing generally. I feel like writing is an attempt to capture the unspoilt. But if it is published, especially on the Internet, then it is exposed to the spoiling gaze of Youtube Yahoos, or their equivalent.

Not all of the below is to do with the 'unspoilt', but some of it is. And maybe the rest is to do with it by implication.

First of all, I would like to urge people to watch this documentary, called The Task of Blood, which deals with life (and death) in a slaughterhouse in Northern England. I discovered the link through Interbreeding, where it is promised that analysis of the documentary is to follow. I don't really have much to say about the documentary, and hope that it speaks for itself. The narrator frames the programme with a quote along the lines of, "If slaughterhouses had glass walls, everyone would be vegetarian." The Interbreeding angle is more concerned with the culture of working class British males.

Next, I don't know how long this link will be up, but I always find these kind of space pictures very beautiful and fascinating. I suppose it's the ultimate in the unspoilt, in a way, and a reminder of how very local human 'spoiling' is. Looking at this kind of this, I feel like nothing really matters, anyway. The only real shame is that I personally was burdened with existence (can't speak for anyone else there). It's a curious feeling, or cycle of feelings. First I wish the world were a better place, then I become hopeless, because of the state of humanity, then I'm glad that the human race is so pitiful and limited, then I'm resentful that existence is imposed on us at all in a universe where we're obviously of no importance, then I wish the world were a better place… Incidentally, I was quite awestruck to learn recently about superclusters. There's definitely something inspiring in the idea of a supercluster to me. They seem related to something else that fasicnates me – fractals.

Penultimately, I also learned, more recently still, of the Pacific Trash Vortex. This is an accumulation of plastic waste the size of Texas, which ocean currents have brought together in the middle of the Pacific.

And finally, last night I watched a programme about Bhutan, an area of the world of which I previously knew next to nothing. I must say, it was pretty much love at first sight for me. Bhutan is, apparently, close to Tibet, both geographically and culturally, and I have long felt there to be something special about the atmosphere and aesthetic of Tibet, although I only know of it second-hand. Bhutan shared that atmosphere. The Wikipedia entry on Bhutan tells us that: "Bhutan is one of the most isolated and least developed nation in the world. Nonetheless, it is the happiest least developed country on earth." And they even have a citation to back up this assertion. I was interested to note the following:

In a response to accusations in 1987 by a journalist from UK's Financial Times that the pace of development in Bhutan was slow, the King said that "Gross National Happiness is more important than Gross National Product." This statement appears to have presaged recent findings by western economic psychologists, including 2002 Nobel Laureate Daniel Kahneman, that question the link between levels of income and happiness. The statement signaled his commitment to building an economy that is appropriate for Bhutan's unique culture, based on Buddhist spiritual values, and has served as a unifying vision for the economy. In addition, the policy seems to be reaping the desired results: in a recent survey organized by the University of Leicester in the UK, Bhutan was ranked as the planet's 8th happiest place.

This is in part interesting to me because I basically despise the role that my own country plays in the world – the role of materialistic expansion. It's easy to be cynical about what the King of Bhutan's motives might have been in making the statement he did – not knowing his motivation, I will not comment except to say that I'm just glad that some leader of some country on Earth feels capable of expressing sentiments that do not put the economy before all else.

I had a strange sensation watching the programme. I certainly wanted to chop wood on those mountain slopes with Laya girls, and drink fungus caterpiller whiskey with some old geezer in a knitted tent, and see blue sheep (?) in the snow. But I also felt regret that television cameras were being taken there at all. I feel like saying, please don't go to Bhutan, now that I've said it looks great. I know I'd love to.