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Daheshville:The Story

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  • Daheshville:The Story

    Beginning of Part 1:Why and How

    The rays of the sun peaked out from beneath the darkness that hung over a foothill-lined horizon. The sun broadcast feathers of light displaying the glorious dawning of a new day in this new age. From our looking point atop the community center my companions and I watched with awesome wonder as the bluish hues of night melted away to reveal the reds, and the yellows, and pinks and the oranges of day. I rested against the wet wooden rail, dam with morning dew and once again meditated on the marvelous sight that was on the terra firma 60 ft. beneath us. This was the highest point in Daheshville and so my brothers and sisters had an unimpeded 360-degree view that was clear for miles in either direction.

    Acre after fertile acre of garden earth yielded itself to the growing warmth of the sun's embrace. Wildflowers were in much evident and were in glorious bloom this season of the year. They gave the appearance of a canvas with dashes of white and purple here, red there on strokes of orange, blue and yellow. The orchards were starting to bear fruit and were weighed down with blossoms and budding apples, peaches, pears and plums that appeared like unto ornaments on a goodly-fashioned Christmas tree. Streams wondered down from the foothills and ridges and merged with yet other streams to become creeks before meeting together at one of the lakes that you could see here and there on the landscape. All the creeks and all the lakes were singing with the life of fish, frogs, birds, water snakes...and soon a good number of the families of Daheshville would arrive there once the noon sun had exerted its greatest energy and the air started to cool.

    Almost 10,000 souls live here even though one would not know this from the immediate appearance of Daheshville. From where I stood in the comfort of the early morning breeze the flowers, the crops and the trees were so thick that Daheshville was almost indisguishable from the garden that appeared before us. We in this village community of Daheshville sought the wisdom to walk lightly upon this Living Earth and work with Her to create an environment that is of mutual benefit to nature and humanity. No, we sought to create transsensual and cosmic beauty. A monorail hummed by 40 feet below us taking the early risen to their destinations and appearing as the most visible sign of human habitation in this permaculture forest we called Daheshville, we called our home. It's environmentally clean-running engine barely made a whisper and gave off even less pollution as it wound its path among the leafy treetops. Down beneath it, nested here and there among the pecans, elms, and cottonwwood trees, flowers and vegetables, Daheshvillians and wildlife roamed unobstructed by fenced property and automobile traffic. A few, like my friends and I, were just enjoying the beauty of the dawning of the this new day in the parks or on a leisurely stroll down the pedestrian-only streets. Others were about the business of preparing for this day's festivities.

    A red male cardinal landed on the wooden railing about four feet from us gave salutations to the Dawn. I listened as he sang and was reminded of the rich diversity of wildlife that lives in this place. Rabbits, deer, squirrels, raccoons, possum, coyotes, you name it, they all lived here in this garden place unhurt by Daheshville's human inhabitants. A balance had been found that both animals and humans both respected as they went about their lives.

    I looked out again at Daheshville. Daheshville spread out in each direction from the center were we were enjoying our view. The circular rings that comprised the streets were hard to make out beneath the lush canopy of trees. If it hadn't been for the sun glittering off the roof solar panels that were perched above it all the actual layout of Daheshville would be hard to make out. However for one who knew what to look for the circular layout was evident and stood in bold contrast to the static and regimented grid system too often found in human settlements. Instead of a sterile suburban landscape composed mostly of concrete, the village community below was green, organic, alive. Homes and workplaces faced each other from across Daheshville's greenway and car-free road. The village ring's interior, at a diameter of a little over 400 yards is filled with orchards, parks, gardens, public buildings and recreational facilities. Even at this dawning hour we could see villagers beginning to stir to life, sharing coffee on the steps of a front porch, walking their dog in the park, enjoying moments of meditation or having breakfast at a one of the village's cafes. Daheshville was waking up.

    I sat down on a bench and propped my feet on the wooden rail. I raised my mug and stole a taste my own special blend of Yerba Mate, enjoying the smell of the dash of hazelnut I threw into the mix. The horizon over the foothills now a display of yellow, pink and orange, my senses were filled and I could feel my muscles coming alive. The sound of the birds, the taste of the Mate, the smell of fresh blossoms in the fresh air, the touch of the gentle breeze on my face and on my receding hairline....all of these testified that this wonderful moment was truly really really real! There had been times when we had wondered if we could ever experience a moment like this is a place such as this is. The journey to Daheshville had begun unexpectedly and led us along paths I could never have imagined traversing. Yet here I we were. All of us who called Daheshville our home.

    This place we call home is a labor of love, accompanied by the pains of labor.
    We have no regrets. And here we were at this festival of the good life well lived that the entire village would celebrate. Within seven years our community had created something the world had never before seen. What we proposed was impossible, so we were told by many. It was too good and too utopian to be true, said many others. I think we showed both camps a thing or two. Through much joint effort and cooperative ethos, we now enjoyed clean water and pure air, great schools, competitive businesses, delicious local and organically-grown fruits and vegetables, creative arts and theatre...our businesses are on the cutting edge of revolutionary technologies that we market to the rest of the world. Unemployment and crime is almost nonexistent. The village is fiscally sound and its surpluses invested in the community. The result of his and many other factors is that people are healthier, happier and more organically connected to one another and themselves. You couldn't walk outside your house on this or any other morning without finding yourself in uplifting conversation with someone. Of all the great things about Daheshville it is the feeling that one gets from simply being here that is the most meaningful and yet the hardest feeling to describe.

    This place is something special and I love this place. I rise most mornings early so as to observe the sun rise over once more upon the work we have done. On this morning I felt deep satisfaction and gratitude...and longing. There is much to be done. This has to be taken to all people in the world. This first village is just the initial step in a road that we build as we travel. I breathed a deep breathing, arose and took in the wondrous sight again. Tommorrow I will return to my work and focus on the future. Today I would enjoy this moment and this day of celebration of a work well done by many faithful servants of the Provident One. We were a diverse and multi-disciplined team if ever there has been such a thing and come from all walks of life and have varied kind of experiences before we began our journey together. We joined our hearts and our hands together because we shared this thing in common..a hunger and a thirst to fine a better way. Nay, to build a better way. And build it we did.

    Yet I couldn't help but cast my thoughts to the way it used to be before the times that led me here to this moment had begun to unfurl itself. A little over a decade has passed, but we could vividly recall the faces, the times, the places that have brought us to this time in this promised and promising land.

    More to'll take a good month! might be entertaining...informative...I like to think of this as being a possibly open source effort here at feel free to work with the story as you are inclined.
    Last edited by zionic; 06-29-2007, 07:19 PM. Reason: please excuse the typos....I'll clean 'em up later
    "Call me late, just don't call me late for dinner."-Checker Flag Bubba

  • #2
    Daheshville Story: part 2:SCALPU

    As if it weren't enough that my otherwise adorable kitty cat child had woken me at 4 a.m. my alarm gets into the act at 6 a.m. In a grouchy mood from the get go I silenced the electronic intruder of sleep with a devastating blow....but not so devastating that I broke it....yet. someday. Now on automatic pilot I ambulated to the shower and began to prepare for another day at work. An engineer for a defence contractor, I found the pay to be satisfactory enough but the job itself left a thing or two to be desired. After all, my job was to find new ways to kill people and blow stuff up. But my substantial paycheck was enough to paper over my conscience. Sure a lot more money in it than designing a better water faucet or even yet another silk tie. Besides, I would need that paycheck more than ever now that my wife was large with child.

    I bounced out of the shower, in a better mood, dressed and met up with my wife for breakfast in the kitchen. I grabbed a hold of my prepackaged chocked-full-of-preservatives breakfast-in-sesame-seed-bun and let its heat dissipate as I inhaled my coffee. But the stimulus of caffeine was not enough to lift me up much as I listened to the morning news. The barrage of bleeding-leading news being broadcast by plastic news anchor mannequins was so dull that I could hardly hear myself being brainwashed anymore. It was just as bad as my breakfast and who knows? Probably had the same kind of stress-related effects! School shootings, desertification, global warming, yet another genocidal war. And Paris Hilton. Homelessness. Abused children. Another species gone extinct. Ethnic cleansing and forced migrations.

    It just never ever got any better than that. Could we humans do anything that was real and that was right? but then again...who the heck am i to argue? I helped make missiles. If I set out to practice what I was least I was preaching to myself if no one else, I could find a way to find another line of work. But no one could pay me what I was making for building bombs. And maybe the grass on the other lanes of the rat race were not greener either. I was trapped between the Devil and the deep blue sea. or a big blue rock. Stuck in a rut. And now I was going to be a father and felt even more hemmed in by circumstances. I was working for the Devil and I knew it. But if I left his employ, what would become of me? Anyway, on that day that a mushroom cloud billows up in a glowing column to the heavens I could have the satisfaction of turning to tell my daughter "Looky over there, I made that." don't think little Sophia will be all that impressed.

    Back to reality....I shook off these thoughts, chugged the rest of my coffee down and very much feeling that I just couldn't continue the rat race much longer. But I doubted that I could or would myself do anything about it.

    I gave my sweetheart an embrace and climbed into my not-yet-paid-for SUV for my daily one-hour-plus commute to work. My mileage was lousy, it had this that and the other mechanical hiccup but we couldn't afford to buy a new car. Had to spend money on the baby. I climbed onto the interstate highway and began my daily trek, gingerly making my way through traffic on bursting streets...praying under my breath that I could avoid a multiple-miles back up through the infamous "triangle". The traffic congestion had become worse and worse over the years. A few short years ago I could make my journey in a little over 35 minutes. No more. Everbody else found our little hamlet and city hall was unable to widen out the roads fast enough to keep pace with the new wave of sprawl. Result? Too may cars and too little road. So now I just hurry up and wait!

    I sipped my second cup of coffee. Or was a Big Gulp? Don't remember. I was crawling along at 17 miles per hour. Oh well. Plenty of time to loose myself in music. I don't have to listen to Fox lie to me on the way to work. A little Abba, or Intocables, or maybe some Gotan Project. Ah, Nuevo "4"...Balada Para Un Loco and I'm off!

    I managed to make it to the office without spilling my coffee or whatever on myself or getting delayed in a traffic snafu. Good times. On the way from the parking area I bumped into Shaye, an associate who had lately been transferred to another division. We worked on a project or two together and on occasion went hunting and fishing. Small talk in the lift as we made our way to our floors.

    "Seen this?" Shaye asked? He hands me the latest corporate newsletter. The headline: "Record Profits for Nulb, Inc." I quickly looked over the highlights, which praised several divisions and the entire company for posting yet another record profit in the second quarter, the largest in Nulb's 37 year history. Definitely the upside of unrest and tumult throughout God's big green world. A subheading read "SCALP/COMTEL Lead Divisions." SCALP was my home division. COMTEL was the division Shaye had been transferred to.

    I glanced at Shaye and said "Looks like this is shaping up to be a good series of four quarters. So you're lucky to have taken that COMTEL assignment."

    "not so fast. Read that last paragraph", he chuckled in a sinister manner.

    Dadblastit!! It reported that Nulb's CEO had been graciously rewarded with a 3 percent bonus and yet another extra week of vacation by grateful shareholders. 3 percent. Didn't seem like much...unless you knew that this incompetent fellow made over 40 Million dollars a year. And he knew nothing about engineering. Nothing about physics. Nothing about design. Nothing about related fields. What he knew was golf courses and how to corrupt public officials and bureaucrats. Couln't believe it. Son of a b....I clutched my satchel tighter and supported myself against the elevator wall as I again surveyed the newletter...searching in vain for any recognition at all of those, such as myself, who had actually done the work. No mention. But plenty of celestial praise for the company's nifty officers. I looked at Shaye and we shared an incredulous laugh together.

    "So he gets the credit and we do the all the" I asked Shaye as the lift's door opened on my floor.

    "The way of the world, ain't it? That's corporate America for ya!" He replied. I tossed the newsletter back to him as the lift doors were closing then turned toward the sea of cubicles in my record profit-making division. My personal cubicle was way out yonder so I was obligated to walk past 12 rows of interlocking flat grey walls. "Oh well. At least I got job security. The President has seen to that." I mumbled as I passed the third row.

    More to come! Same place! Same channel!
    Last edited by zionic; 07-06-2007, 07:51 PM. Reason: typos
    "Call me late, just don't call me late for dinner."-Checker Flag Bubba