(((Okay, to win a Bucky Fuller prize, that's like the very definition of incredibly cool yet practically ineffectual. Who the heck would do this in real life, and how the heck would they ever make it pay to revitalize the Appalachians? The Appalachians are the coal-ravaged running sore of American life. They are the very byword for intractable, brutally exploited, lowbrow misery.
No attempt to enlighten the darkness there ever works.)))
(((But – you know – imagine *you* did that. Why?
Because you lost your house. And your savings, and your job, and maybe a couple of loved ones, to the ever gathering storm of financial, ecological, military and political collapse. Because your life had ceased to work.
So, rather than gathering with your peers under a bridge with a jug of bathtub gin, wouldn't it make more sense to put on your one-gallus overalls, pick up a Leatherman multitool and go *join John Todd?*
I mean, just thumb a ride over to the core of the misery and tackle that evil American Mordor with your own two hands. They wouldn't have to pay you – what difference would that make? If there was food you could do it. If there was a roof. To hell with it: they'd give you your own acre of wasteland and you'd grow the food and build the roof.)))
(((It would be kinda like joining the Foreign Legion, but without the annoying necessity of having to shoot a bunch of Arabs.)))
http://www.metropolismag.com/cda/story.php?artid=3452
Link: The Visionary Thinking of John Todd.