THE LAST ICE ON EARTH
Meow Wolf's House of Eternal Return, Santa Fe
In 2051, a team of scientists and adventurers arrived in our universe, reluctantly escaping their dying world.
The ISQ team unwittingly brought with them some mysterious cosmic hitchhikers – the Mimizuku Samurai Space Owls.
Welcome to our centennial celebration of what happened next.
TO SOME, NATURE WAS A VACUUM.
This was the world as the ISQ team found it:
Everyone happily toiling in unison toward our mutual end.
Everywhere-somewhere, someone was dredging, burning, clearing, and paving something, in assault-rifle rhythm. The deleting of the world's flora and fauna kept accelerating in the name of exponential growth, convenience, lucre, progress, trade, plenty, luxury, prestige, style, and moxie.
Now we all know our pristine polar icescapes are the foundation of climate stability, and that the oceans absorb three-quarters of the world's carbon, while creating more than two-thirds of the oxygen we breath.
But back then, as the last sea creatures were replaced by floating gyres of plastic garbage and micro-particles, the Monopolists were silencing the final warning sirens.
It was as if someone had banned the word "volcano" in Pompeii, or the word "iceberg" as the Titanic steamed toward its doom.
We were well on our way to living in the past tense.
Everything we’d told ourselves was real – wealth, power, security, and et cetera – turned out to be imaginary, the figment of someone's fourth quarter projection.
And all the things we had thought were imaginary turned out to be real.
All the deep, beautiful intangibles that had been invisible to us were suddenly revealed.
Well, my little calves and fingerlings, that changed everything.
An ever-expanding platform
for audiences of all ages to engage with
the reality of climate change
through the fantastic.
The Ice Station is currently on display as part of the Meow Wolf collective's grand installation, the work of a raucous team of artists, music and film-makers, artisanal welders, laser-cutters, and tech-creatives. The 35,000 square-foot rehab of an abandoned bowling alley, helped in part by George RR Martin, "Game of Thrones" author, is loosely connected along a central narrative, and visitors can "play" the space like a game. Even more ambitious projects are now in the works for Las Vegas and Denver.