moonshine

Most first time visitors are struck by the beauty of San Diego. Glistening in the sun, bordering the blue pacific and decorated with gently swaying palm trees, San Diego looks like paradise on earth. Multi-million dollar mc mansions are perched atop its mesas and busy shopping centers and freeways dominate its valleys. Scantily clad women and blonde hair surfer dudes strut alongside its side-walk cafes where people bask in the warmth of the Southern California sun. This is beach boy country.

What was once a windswept dust bowl bordering swamps out in the middle of nowhere is now a highly prized real estate development. Huge three car garage homes hide scenic docks with luxury boats. Here in middle of the Central Valley is another paradise where every home has its own dock and all have access to the pleasure ground known as the delta. The wind still blows and occasionally brings in dust, but most of it is neatly covered up under the manicured lawns and leisurely winding roads.

All over California and the West this scenario is repeated. What was once zero-value land, bone-dry or swampy marsh, battered by dry winds and blasted by dust devils has been turned into valuable real estate, selling upwards of half a million dollars per tiny parcel. Much of it is gated communities with sweet sounding names attached in big bronze lettering near the entrances. Inside, the green is blinding and dazzling in the desert sun.

Underlying this magical transformation is oil and water brought in by virtue of cheap energy. Access requires more energy and is only possible thanks to the miracle of the automobile. And there are plenty of those, most of them high end sports cars, luxury SUVs, or tough looking military style assault vehicles. When water is nearby there are docks and pleasure craft galore. At night thousands of lights blot out the stars and create an aura of luminescence like a faraway galaxy.

Nowhere is this artificial glow more powerful than in nearby Las Vegas. The meadows that gave this city its name have long since gone. They weren't much of meadows in any case. More like some patches of crabgrass in a depression in the endless wasteland. Now there is a golden glow of high rises and silver linings called freeways. And surrounding it, miles and miles of suburban development. It is growing like a mold on a piece of dry particle board.

It is as if someone has laid a thin veil of fertility over the barren desert. A mask that can only be maintained by copious energy delivery. A skin that breathes greenhouse gases. This is the real Disney Land, the happiest place on earth. As long as the water flows and the oil is plentiful that is. Because without it, it will quickly return to its native state. An inhospitable environment where humans would have trouble surviving for more than a few hours.