EarthRx: Why America Needs to Re-Watch Poltergeist

“That’s why they call it the American Dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it.” – George Carlin
It has been 35 years since Spielberg rocked the box office with Poltergeist, that wicked tale of the American suburban dream gone horrific, but the 1982 flick is more relevant now than ever. What really made Poltergeist a cult classic with cultural import that continues to hit harder and harder was that everything, from the daughter getting swallowed alive by TV Land to the son being terrorized by his own overgrown toys were perfect metaphors for the real psychological horrors of modern American society.
With the current ascension of a true Grinch president to the throne of the most powerful country in the history of countries just as the showdown over the Dakota Access Pipeline, which pit the overconsumption of fossil fuels that continues to drive the American Dream against the preservation of native ancestral lands, happening in the background, there is no better time to examine Poltergeist again than now. After all, at the end of Poltergeist it was the fact that the entire suburb was built right on top of a sacred native burial ground that turned out to be the problem, remember? The horror is in our very foundation.
The largest and longest continuous protest in U.S. history, Standing Rock was to me a sign that America was at last starting to deal with the ghosts in its closet. And the movement was victorious, at least for a moment, until like Rosebud Sioux leader OJ Semans recently said at the People’s Climate March in Washington DC, under Trump the pipeline rose again from the dead like a “zombie.” His use of horror movie language underlines just how grotesque this situation really is.
So what is driving this zombie apocalypse, this American poltergeist that keeps rising from the dead like a Chucky doll hell-bent on terrorizing everyone? The answer, if we pay attention to our native first peoples as well as our own top storytellers and myth-makers, everyone from Spielberg to Carlin to Dr. Seuss, may lie in the asphalt beneath our feet.
“The immersive ugliness of our everyday environments in America is entropy made visible” said James Howard Kunstler, author of the bestselling book “The Geography of Nowhere,” at a 2007 TED Talk. Again conjuring up fright night spookiness, the talk, entitled “The Ghastly Tragedy of the Suburbs,” is a full takedown of the natural desolation and personal isolation produced by American-style suburban living.
“We cannot overestimate the amount of despair we are generating with places like this,” Kunstler explains.
Kunstler is right. According to Stephen Ilardi Ph.D. author of The Depression Cure, social isolation—the real cause of depression—has more than doubled in the last 20 years, with around 25 percent of all Americans admitting that they have “no meaningful social support at all—not a single person they can confide in.”
Depression is now the leading cause of disability not just in the U.S., but across the globe, according to the World Health Organization. Depression’s worst outcome is of course suicide, which is now the leading cause of accident related deaths in the country—more than car crashes or any other kind of injury combined. That’s a horror story even scarier than anything that Hollywood could ever come up with. And its real.
But it’s not just our inner landscape that is being devastated by modern American living, by our real-life Poltergeist; we are also destroying the physical world around us. Our lifestyle requires so much oil to run it, as suburbia is completely car dominated and not even habitable by those that don’t own a vehicle, that America now uses 25 percent of the earth’s fossil fuel resources even though we represent only five percent of the entire globe’s population.
Not only are whole ecosystems being decimated to feed our oil addiction, but we are on the brink of launching another world war over the largest crude reserves left in the Middle East. Like Freddy Krueger on steroids we are intent on expanding our dream cum nightmare way past Elm Street to encircle the globe.