Entropy in the Anthropocene
The first photograph in this series was taken inside a bland, corporate hotel room on O’ahu’s North Shore, between Ka’ena Point and Kahuku, on the most populous island in the Hawaiian archipelago. The image of the ancient-looking fauna and the atmospheric play of humidity and sunlight through the window struck me as having a prehistoric, Mesozoic quality. Evidence of palm trees can be found in the fossil record from 63 to 90 million years ago, and they were contemporaneous with dinosaurs on planet Earth. Something struck me as I looked out the window, and later, as we walked along nearby beaches strewn with debris from very slowly decomposing, brightly colored neon plastic fishing nets. I was traveling with friends wearing similarly plastic (fossil fuel-derived) ironic polyester windbreakers in the same neon colors as the fishing nets. We had just picked up a snack at McDonald’s, jokingly referring to it as potentially having a shelf life similar to the plastic clothing we were wearing and the fishnets we found on the beach, casually dancing to Whitney Houston somewhat carelessly. Amidst this tableau of imagery was the incomprehensible scale of millions of years of natural history and geology, contrasted with humans' toxic, fleeting, and precarious lives in our late-capitalist, high-corporatist era. There we were in the “vacation spot of vacation spots,” wearing, consuming, and observing the detritus/remnants of our lives as an essentially invasive species. One could not help but wonder at humans’ ability to transform the world around them for the worse, with all the impending crises that will haunt the unluckiest among us, particularly the young, who will inherit our collective negligence. At the same time, there is dancing and fun, burgers and French fries, swimming, and drinks. And still, the ocean, nature, erosion... seemed to be already taking back over. In the span of human life, it will feel like—and be—a disaster—filled with fear, death, dwindling species diversity, climate refugees, water shortages, and air conditioners that mask the heat while worsening the situation. The Earth, however, will continue to evolve and grow over our waste, heading in a new direction. We just might not be part of it.
Digital photographs and writing by Samuel Nohe Ireland. © 2025
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