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In the area that I live in Canada, the logging industry has collapsed with the rise of the Canadian dollar. The Canadian dollar is now a petrocurrency and other industires which dry on exports are highly affected by the price of oil. This has toi be one of the most beautiful places in the world with the lakes and ridges and mountains. Unfortunately the description of "moribund, dying slowly from the edges inwards" is apt or this area. There is an area north of Toronto called Muskoka. This has turned inot a millionaire's paradise with  the lakes dotted with massive multi-million dollar "summer cottages". Locals and previous cottage owners are being forced out because they cannot afford the new prices. it has become an artificial tourist area. 50 or 60 years ago, it was a rough timer are similar to the place where I live now.m Now Joni Mitchell's song would apply to it. There is now an effort in my area to create a similar economy. It
 could live on like Lenin's corpse but its essence will have died.


________________________________
 From: David Boyd <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask] 
Sent: Tuesday, September 4, 2012 5:21:11 AM
Subject: Parking lots in inappropriate places
 

They paved paradise and put up a parking lot,
With a pink hotel, a boutique, 
And a swinging hot spot. 
Don't it always seem to go 
That you don't 
know what you've got till it's gone? 
They paved paradise and put up a 
parking lot. 
They took all the trees and put them in a tree museum. 
And they charged 
all the people 
A dollar and a half just to see 'em. 
Don't it always seem 
to go
That you don't know what you've got till it's gone? 
They paved 
paradise and put up a parking lot. 
 
(Big Yellow Taxi - Joni Mitchell)
 
 
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/mar/20/eliot-east-coker-housing-estates
 
'not preserved in aspic' :-
 
.....It (the English Lake District) embraces places which
the visitor to the Lakes may notwant to see and aspects of life
and societywhich hecomes here to forget. But itisnogood trying
to forget them. Greater Lakeland does not just mean Derwentwater, BleaTarn and the Wasdale Screes: it alsomeans Windscale
Atomic Station, the Marchon chemical factory at Whitehaven,
Workington Steelworks, Barrow Docks and Carlisle Railway
Depot; wharves, warehouses, bus-stops and parking-places;
schools, adult-education centres, the county libraries; churches,
chapels, Sunday schools, cinemas and dance-halls; sports fields,
allotments and cemeteries; the new housing estates and the old,
shabby Victorian terraces; hardware stores, chemists', fish-andchip shops, pubs and coffee-bars; the dairy herds, turnip fields and pig-sties of a thousand lowland farms; one cathedral, one
teachers' training college, one Polaris-submarine ship-building
yard—in feet, all that goes to the life and death of the people of
the old kingdom and the new county ofCumbria. Forget all this,
and what all the rest of the country calls 'Lakeland' will turn
moribund, dyingslowly from theedges inwards, to become in the
end little more than a beautiful, embalmed corpse in a rotting
coffin.
 
(Norman Nicholson, Lake District Poet, 'Greater Lakeland (1969))