To every thing there is a season, a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, a time to die; a time to plant, a time to reap that which is planted. A time to kill, a time to heal; a time to break down, a time to build up. A time to weep, a time to laugh; a time to mourn, a time to dance. A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together. A time to embrace, a time to refrain from embracing. A time to get, a time to lose; a time to keep, a time to cast away. A time to rend, a time to sow. A time to keep silence, a time to speak. A time to love, a time to hate. A time of war, a time of peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1)
A time to focus purposefully on the road to Arcosanti. The real road, I mean: not the spiritual or intellectual path that one has taken, which provokes curiosity about Arcosanti, but rather the physical road that's been traversed by virtually everyone who, over the course of 40-plus years, has meant to get there from somewhere.
From wherever. From anywhere, by way of Cordes Junction.
That road is not an Edgar Mueller trompe l'oeil shockeroo (see link below) but no-one in a car (heaven forbid low slung and sporty, or with lousy shocks), on a bicycle, in an emergency vehicle (even more heaven forbid), or never-you-mind roller or in-line skates (fuhgeddaboudit!) loves that road.
For good reason: it's a mean road. An undercarriage-destroying, shock-absorber-hating, tire-loathing, habitation and development-inhibiting, pedestrian-unfriendly, wheel-stealing, cycle-unlikeable, transit-lover-defying misery of a road.
You don't have to be perverse to detest it or even merely to dislike it intensely. And no-one will castigate you if you do.
If you are, like me, a transit-appreciative person, here's a YouTube gem about transit. It doesn't mention "arcology" but it does connect the deadly dots between historical erosion of mass transit and the violent burgeoning of suburban sprawl.
Reinforces the case for arcological development. Does it explain the road to Arcosanti? You tell me...please?
A time to focus purposefully on the road to Arcosanti. The real road, I mean: not the spiritual or intellectual path that one has taken, which provokes curiosity about Arcosanti, but rather the physical road that's been traversed by virtually everyone who, over the course of 40-plus years, has meant to get there from somewhere.
From wherever. From anywhere, by way of Cordes Junction.
That road is not an Edgar Mueller trompe l'oeil shockeroo (see link below) but no-one in a car (heaven forbid low slung and sporty, or with lousy shocks), on a bicycle, in an emergency vehicle (even more heaven forbid), or never-you-mind roller or in-line skates (fuhgeddaboudit!) loves that road.
For good reason: it's a mean road. An undercarriage-destroying, shock-absorber-hating, tire-loathing, habitation and development-inhibiting, pedestrian-unfriendly, wheel-stealing, cycle-unlikeable, transit-lover-defying misery of a road.
You don't have to be perverse to detest it or even merely to dislike it intensely. And no-one will castigate you if you do.
If you are, like me, a transit-appreciative person, here's a YouTube gem about transit. It doesn't mention "arcology" but it does connect the deadly dots between historical erosion of mass transit and the violent burgeoning of suburban sprawl.
Reinforces the case for arcological development. Does it explain the road to Arcosanti? You tell me...please?
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/art/art-news/6636141/Edgar-Mueller-creates-record-breaking-pavement-art.html
In a world begging for more "walkable urban spaces," an eco-friendly roadway leading to our remarkable urban laboratory would be just lovely, wouldn't it? Don't we want to accept the challenge, figure out how to make that happen? How about maybe could we please have a new CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) come help create one?
