Death Valley

Tosh's Journal: September 12, 2023

I’m spent. I’m totally spent. Knock, knock, who’s there? How do the fuck I know? When one opens me up, there is nothing but endless space. When I die and get cremated, I will have my ashes spread on the dunes of Death Valley. Legend has it that a group of pioneers in 1849 were stranded; one died, but they all presumed this would be their grave. The baked, cracked, dry earth is the last thing one sees, or if you are on your back, the endless blue sky.

Or perhaps I will have my last meal and drink at The Last Kind Words Saloon, the only place to eat and drink within 50 miles of Death Valley. When I look over this overly-designed saloon, with a history that may or may not be accurate, it is one of subjective truth. As I sat there, the thought that this could be the last place of civilization for me was profoundly moving.

Death Valley is intriguing to me primarily due to the film by Erich von Stroheim Greed, made in 1924, and he and the crew spent two months filming in the land of trapped heat. Its basin sinks 282 feet below sea level, which traps hot air and circulates like a hot oven. Temperatures in the summer can rise to 113°F, and on July 10, 1913, the world’s record of the highest temperature was 134°F in an area of Death Valley called Furnace Creek.

The subject matter of Stroheim’s Greed is greed. The two main characters, obsessed with money, end up in the middle of Death Valley, with no water, no horse, and a dead body handcuffed to the surviving lone figure. This will not turn out well. But greed usually never turns out well, because in the end, we will all be dust. Which is not a bad thing by any means, but one has a certain amount of hours here, and to be a good and kind person, and try to leave something positive while we are here, is a worthy goal. But there is always a struggle. Stroheim lost his Greed, and the full 8-hour version is lost to time. Perhaps it is buried somewhere in Death Valley, where they shot the film.