Like everything we grab onto in this nation, we just keep going and going and going until it’s so unbearably huge, that we don’t really even know what the hell it’s doing anymore. We tend to let trends and ideas sort of spiral out of control and spitball at an alarming pace. It’s our own faults. But we’re so typically unaware and unwilling to take the blame, we decide we should all be eco-smart and rescue poor Mother Earth.
Yet, as hard as you might think you are trying to be green and consciously safe about the environment… you can’t NOT be polluting. You just can’t escape it. Everything we have built to this day means we have to sort of rob the earth of something. We’re just filthy assholes really. Hello, remember the Industrial Age? Yeah, unless this was 1640 and we just stopped evolving, maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But we wanted to continue to progress, and by the time we got here, and began to notice “Um, shit. Earth looks like it’s sorta taking a beating from our massive cultural upheavals,” we act like we give a damn now.
No. We’re still being rape-hungry pricks who want more, more, more. That’s just how we are. It’s how our instincts work. Once we made machines, we were doomed. And we just grew from there. Essentially, we’re just gangbanging the planet. Collectively, as a whole, we are all just giving it to the earth, seeing how long we can all sodomize her and bang her old bones until she collapses. The nations around the globe have circled around and are now performing the ancient Japanese tradition of Bukake… onto Mother Earth’s giant magma tits. She never really tells us directly that she’d like us to stop, so we just keep at it. I mean, we can see it in her eyes that she’s not happy with us, particularly when we all high five and send in another round of 22 guys to keep strong… but we just haven’t really cared. “She was the one who laid ‘em out on the table. Not like she said we COULDN’T do it! Once we started jerking, she didn’t like, move out of the way or anything.”
Like that scene in The Accused, just one after the other. We throw earth on the pool table, line up like a bunch of horny drunk bikers… and we just have our way with her, never stopping. Tearing and thrashing and bulldozing and… this is the analogy talking; sorry for the graphic details. Anyway, she’s gushing, well, oil in this case… and by the time we’re all done, we see this ravaged planet, lying on a barroom floor, naked and weeping. You can try to go granola, live in the woods, eat berries and then get mauled by a mountain lion, but we have just created this beheamoth we cannot prevent from eventually being destroyed by our own power. Which is ironic, since our rise up through evolution is going to be our downfall. That’s just some icing on the cake though, the amusement in our ironic apocalypse.
You have to remember: that our planet? She’s almost 5 billion years old. She’s not some spry young fawn, frolicing in the grass and carelessly dancing in the daffodils — she is no longer Laura Ingalls. She is not mean old Nelly, blinder than Mary and — okay, done with Little House on the Prarie. She’s an old fucking bitch who is seriously tired and in the early stages of dementia. We just happen to be gangbanging her to death — like, until her vagina poofs out ash — and now we finally realize, “Oh shit - she’s not responding to all this very well. I guess 200 years of hardcore raping isn’t treating her body so great, oops. Our bad, we’re dead.”
Don’t you think if we referred to our planet in the masculine form, this would all be very different? Because everybody loves their mom, right? But dad is just a bitter dickhead who was never proud of you. “I stubbed my toe on one of his stupid rocks yesterday. Why did he even make these dumb things? He probably just put them here as a reminder of how I can’t ever do anything right, like walking. Just because some of us weren’t blessed with athleticism and never wanted to take over the family business doesn’t mean we can’t be great at other things — I HATE YOU DAD!”
Going green wouldn’t even be in the discussion. We’d all be so angry at Daddy Earth, we’d be trying to kill the planet even faster than we are now. We’d be antagonizing the planet every time we hear about a disaster. “Oh, an 8.8? That all you can do, DAD?!” Pouring antifreeze down the sewer. Leaving styrofoam cups in the street. Keeping BP in business. “Looks like daddy could use a facelift!”
Let me just give you one prime example though, of how unbelievably gross we are when it comes to exploring the outer limits of human evolution; when we just continue to expand and develop and create until we practically engulf ourselves within our own spectacle of agony: the Double Down sandwich. We created all these components for greasy, unhealthy, stare-Death-in-the-face garbage… but having them spread out wasn’t enough. We had to put them all together: deep-fried chicken - AS BREAD! Mayonnaise and hollandaise and gravy - AS LETTUCE! I’m honestly shocked they didn’t shove another slice of chicken in there. Or dump in some melted hog fat or dump some Skittles on top of it. Why stop yourselves at two pieces of fried chicken? Slap another one in there, throw in some bacon and a stick of butter - voila!
God creates earth; God creates man; God creates death food.
I still think that sandwich was created due to the fact that KFC cut a deal with the American Heart Association. “A recent study showed that the percentile of incoming heart surgery patients has dropped a whopping 94% - is there anything you can do to help us get back on our feet?” “Yes. We’ll put our customers on their backs - due to heart failure!” Then watch the bypasses just roll on in. Pesky devils.
We just keep getting greener and greener, making up new solutions to problems no one ever really had an issue with in the first place. Are we discovering new problems or coming up with solutions before we notice anything, so we fuckin’ make something up? Hey, don’t act like I missed the news on that oil spill - I know that we have a whole lot left down there. And haven’t you guys ever seen Alien?! Go into space, grab some resources out there! Just, well… don’t land on any strange, seemingly-isolated planets or bring an android on board, alright? Lesson learned.
And now, it’s just sort of grown into this… unstoppable force where we’re all looking at each other, like, “Have we done all we can? We better keep going until somebody says something.” Because we’re afraid once we quit, the fuckin’ world is just going to … that’s it! Just… done. We’ve got blue balls from going green. That’s what we have here. Overstimulated problem-solving with no payoff.
Blue balls, for the record? No bueno. It feels like you’re abdomen is about to tear out of your body, but nope… just your balls letting you know how severely disappointed they are by you, the girl, and your moronic brain for not telling her you’re terminally ill and would hate to die a virgin. There is a chance that the Livestrong bracelet gets you sympathy points, however you cannot accessorize and dress to match the bracelet: dead giveaway. Now, it’s a last-ditch effort, but you have to at least try.
This is the same shit going on with the green trend: we find out earth has something it’s about to run out of, we have some ideas to cover up our own mistakes for taking advantage of her and we have no true payoff in the end. We’re left sitting there with the Hollister catalog in one hand…
…our dicks in the other…
…and a little Double Down sauce all over our bellies.