Hydrocarbons Are Our Dark Satanic Mills

Bierstadt, Mount Corcoran

Thursday

As record heat temperatures in America’s west continue to show us the hellhole that awaits us if we fail to deal with climate change, I was struck by Washington governor Jay Inslee’s fear for the American west. Noting that Washington is known as “the evergreen state,” he painted a picture of crops dying, electric grids shutting down, and people dying. We in America have been given a gift in our west coast and we are squandering it.

The emphasis on “green” brought to mind William Blake’s poem “Jerusalem.” Appearing in his mystical and very difficult poem Milton, “Jerusalem” harkens back to a time when (so certain legends have it) Jesus visited England and walked upon “Englands mountains green.” Whether or not he actually did, the real issue is that “the Countenance Divine” once shone upon the land, only to be driven away by “dark Satanic Mills.”

For Blake, the mills were in part the textile factories and other industries that poured smoke into the atmosphere. We of course continue this practice to the point that we are changing our planet’s climate.

 Blake resolves to do all he can to oppose the trend—he “shall not cease from Mental Fight”—with his “Bow of burning gold” and “arrows of desire” being his poetry. His “Chariot of Fire” is an allusion to Elisha, who moved between the spiritual realm and the earthly.

Blake’s final vision of “Englands green & pleasant Land” is what has made “Jerusalem” England’s de facto national anthem. The heartbreak we feel as pleasant pastures become drought and fire-ravaged landscapes should spur all of us to take up Blake’s struggle.

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon Englands mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On Englands pleasant pastures seen!

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!
 
I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In Englands green & pleasant Land.

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