Appalachian Institute for Renewable Energy
Pioneering community-owned renewable energy
“I can only take one apocalypse at a time.” That’s what the bank teller said to me during a recent trip to the bank when his computer couldn’t manage a simple deposit. As we stood there waiting for this machine to do its work, he alluded, probably only half jokingly, to the possibilities of artificial
All 21 days of our new decade 2020 have been even more surreal than what has been the ever-metastasizing malignant normalcy of the past three years. My mind went careening into a maze of “dots” when President Trump assassinated the Iranian general earlier this month (remember way back then?), trying to connect them to make
Did my EV driving cause a coup in Bolivia? That’s a question too big and complicated for this space on many levels, but the point is to connect a few dots. In the consumption-driven western world, we seem mostly oblivious to dots, or at least look the other way to avoid the messy inconvenience of
Wherever your place and community may be, you need a guiding question. DO YOU HAVE A VILLAGE WIRING VISION? Whether you’re a faith community, university, city, rural community, or other community of interest, this ought to be a central organizing question. Of course AIRE’s specific focus is community-owned renewable energy, but Sister Mary Baird gives
We have an electric power problem. Of course our sustainability problem is bigger and more complex than just electricity. But, as California’s PG&E continues to be in the news (for all the wrong reasons again this year!) with it’s strategic blackouts in response to the latest climate change fueled hellscape, one wonders why we believe
With an enrollment of 550 students, Ancilla College may just have more solar per student than any other college. I haven’t actually verified that because my point isn’t quantitative. Rather, it’s qualitative. It’s about doing what is necessary and what is urgent. DOING. It’s about doing what our youth know that we must and that’s
I was in Mexico Beach last winter and stood in the midst of Hurricane Michael’s lingering devastation– broken glass, shredded trees, leveled houses, piles of debris, “don’t forget us” graffiti, and blue tarp band-aids. One week ago, I monitored the developments of Hurricane Dorian, having planned to be in Miami during its anticipated landfall. Once
I’ve just drafted a wide-ranging paper dealing critically with our present incumbent energy system, its undemocratic characteristics and ecologically dangerous methods, and on the other hand an energy transition that “ought to be.” I’m putting forth the argument that energy transition, in addition to being the more obviously technical project, is also a social project.
I recently wrote about neighborhoods in and around Denver-Boulder trying to pass a modest proposition to keep fracking rigs a little farther away from their backyards. That vote failed in the November elections as the fracking industry piled on a mountain of money to make sure they could continue to drill along side backyards, schools,
Because it’s cold outside, but mostly for other reasons, I’ve been thinking about quilts, so I wanted to write about them as a reflection on the past year and in contemplation of the new one upon us. My family made one of those “barn quilts” that we see so much of in rural country for