"Earthship Biotecture" is not another P-Funk spin-off. Rather, it describes the living spaces Reynolds and his followers have been making in the deserts outside of Taos, New Mexico for almost thirty years. They truly are self-sustaining. The sun fulfills most needs, powering solar batteries, heating up insulation, and enabling greenhouse agriculture. Night and day, the houses maintain a temperature of seventy degrees. Water is provided from wells or collected as rainwater. Sewage--well, mention is made of sewage treatment under living rooms, but we never see it up close. Barring a sun-blocking catastrophe, Earthships are the solution for post-apocalyptic living.
Reynolds and his band of bohemian carpenters experiment in the hopes that something, anything, will find its way into the world of modern construction. They build the houses around themselves, tinkering until everything works well enough.
For his troubles, Reynolds is forced to surrender his architect’s license and pay exorbitant sums to the city. Yes, he willfully breaks every code in the book. That’s the point. The current laws are financially and environmentally wasteful. “Garbage Warrior” is shrewd in presenting this turn of events. For the first half-hour, Reynolds’ buildings are seen as delightful, harmless spaces. What they lack in aesthetics, they make up hardiness and functionality. Later interest from city council is seen as the ultimate in bureaucratic cluelessness.
Reynolds trip to the tsunami-destroyed Andaman Islands draws a clear parallel to the American resistance to change. He balks at the trucked-in freshwater, this on an island with regular torrential downpours. Using tires, plastic bottles, and dirt, Reynolds et al heroically create a handsome water-collecting hut. In a country that has nothing, innovation is welcomed.
1 comment:
i've got to see this.
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