Not (going to be) Easy Being Green

If the earth was a business, if it were to be managed properly, you’d kill off all the animals that you couldn’t eat, experiment on, or ride for amusement. You’d wipe out the forests and plant food crops. You’d take money spent on weapons and reality TV and use it instead to create ways to regulate the environment. You’d look into mining the moon, cold fusion, nano-construction, that sort of gear.

You do that and things should tick right along. And you’ll have to, eventually.

What else can there be? Eventually we’ll all be standing shoulder to shoulder in a living museum where we can’t touch anything or it might go extinct and with better and better medicine we’ll get to stand there a long time, while more and more of us keep popping up. Something’s got to give. It’s simple physics.

There isn’t room for everything.

Should we do the noble thing and kill ourselves off to save the planet? Mass cullings every century, or generation. Our entire species becoming Jesus? It’s only purpose to constantly sacrifice itself to save the world. Caretakers of a garden, nurturing and aiding the other species and then throwing ourselves into the sea or maybe a volcano. Which ever was handy. Maybe the bodies would have to be shot into space, as burying or burning them would contaminate the garden. Rocket powered Ascension to Eden. Go Jesus Go.

Heavy.

Ah, well that won’t happen for a little while yet. Not my problem. Every age had it’s problems. The Middle Ages had that pesky Black Death, the Thirties had the Depression and the future will have the Jesus thing. My only problem is the price of diesel fuel. Not that bad really. Probably won’t die from it. Now and then there’s a lull I guess.

magma

I dreamed the centre of the earth was accessible to all for a small fee and we went down there one Sunday morning, my sweetie and me. They put you on a sort of fire-proof roller coaster except it doesn’t go up and down, just down. And there’s a bar. Umbrella drinks are popular. They are fire-proof umbrellas for safety.

And we got to sit at the front and my sweetie turned to me and said “we get to sit at the front” and I nodded. I thought it was odd there were windshield wipers, but I’m no geologist. Neither is she. Not anymore.

A man in a blue cap, he also had pants, took our tickets and we were soon under way. When we reached 10 thousand leagues under the surface a pleasing female voice told us to put on our 10 thousand league glasses for safety and to help extinguish our individuality. It says about the glasses right on the ticket so you got to wear them. My dreams are strict. I got arrested once in my dream and couldn’t make bail. I did thirty days. Everyone thought I was in a coma.

After about three hours we pulled into Earth Central which is just what you’d imagine: a vast ball of molten rock and iron, but more commercial. You can’t get out or anything cause of the molten-ness but you are allowed to take non-flash photography. Sweetie took a picture but it just came out red.

And then we climbed the ladder back to the surface which took most of the afternoon, and found our car had been broken into. The portal to the centre of the earth is in a bad area, as you would expect. They took all our change and a Kleenex box full of raw opium we had been saving but I didn’t call the cops. I didn’t need any more trouble from them. I can’t face another coma.

Stickening Situation

More in our series of foods I have never eaten:

28) Coal.

Now tonight’s episode. The truck was making a funny ‘worp worp’ sound and I was worried it might be the differential. Turned out to be a stick stuck up in the suspension, rubbing on the inside of the wheel, and I was relieved. The next day the truck developed a melodic ‘fffffffwiiiiiing’ sound, a bit like brakes, and I was again worried about costly repairs. I hate doing brakes. But it was another stick, other side this time, jammed way up there above the back axel and rubbing at the inside of the tire. And I was again relieved at the simple nature of the problem.

Except now I think people are sticking sticks, someone stuck a stick, how are sticks getting up there?

Do I need stick guards? Can you get them this time of year?

I saw a documentary once and these apes, chimps I think, or possibly Frenchmen, were just sort of sitting around and this really mental one with an erection came screeching out of the bush brandishing a big stick and causing a general ruckus.

That’s another way sticks can be a problem.

I used to go around picking up all the sticks on the lawn, but now I just mow them over. It’s not good for the mower but it was made in USA and if it breaks they give you another one free. As long as you’re not a terrorist, the friend of a terrorist or be able to spell terrorist, then there is a small shipping and handling fee.

I tell you one thing, that fucking monkey was a terrorist. Running around like that with his woody and his stick, scaring all the other chimps. Someone could lose an eye. Nobody loves a one eyed chimp. Or Frenchman. Could have been Frenchmen. You know, the more I think about it…

I’m worried the French have found my compound and are taking the sticks off my lawn and jamming them up under my truck, causing it to make odd sounds. Almost like they’re trying to communicate with me.

What can they want? Cheese? I have no cheese. Not much. Shit.

US channeled top secret Burma footage, hogs to self

Hey what’s the deal? I’m watching The News Hour With Jim Lehrer, hosted by a woman who is not Jim Lehrer, and they have a report from Burma which is also Myanmar, and the non-Jim lady warns it may contain ‘images of a disturbing nature’ and suddenly I get a blue screen with the words VIDEO FOR THIS REPORT RESTRICTED while the audio continues to run in the background. SBS, the network airing it here, apparently, found it too disturbing for Aussies.

What the hell was in it, that is ok to air in America but not Australia? Australia where nudity and swearing in the media is common and R-rated films are shown un-cut on TV. Australia where there is an ad depicting two gentlemen playing a piano duet with their erect penises (peni?)...

And then there's America where I’m not sure if they’re allowed to say ‘shit’ yet on network TV, where Janet Jackson’s nipple threatened to bring about the end of days, where people go to the bathroom or washroom but never the toilet. What the hell could be ok for America but not Australia?

WHAT WAS IT?

I must know. Ok, what are the facts:

1) The only people who don’t want bad pictures coming out of Burma is the government of Burma.

2) Australia is sort of close to Burma geographically, kind of, if you sort of tilt your head.

3) Slugs have two different types of slime – one for clinging to things, and one for traveling.

No. I still can’t work it out.

give

Every day countless marijuana seedlings die from neglect. Lack of adequate nutrients and life-giving sunlight leave others stunted and spindly. Some, sadly, go to seed.

But there’s good news, it doesn’t have to be this way! That’s right, for only 38 cents per day, less than the cost of a pack of rolling papers, you can sponsor a seedling or clone and know you’re helping a plant that might never have had a chance. A chance to grow and learn and contribute and, eventually, produce some really filthy buds.

For just 38 cents per day, less than the cost of a reasonable doughnut, you’ll be providing your plant the best in liquid nutrients and mineral salts. Your plant will attend daily grow sessions where it will have full access to 800 watts of UV-balanced halogen lighting and the latest in temperature and humidity control. You’ll receive letters and photos from your plant keeping you informed of its progress and of any adventures it may have had. Your plant will address you as Sally if you wish.

And eventually we’ll cut the light back and your little pal will begin to bud. What a proud moment for you both, and you’ll be right there with pictures and crude drawings sent to you by your plant. Once the buds are full and thick, resin-coated and sparkly-like, we’ll pick them and dry them to perfection. Then we’ll smoke them and send you pictures of us smoking them or a short description.

But don’t worry, your 38 cents per day doesn’t stop there. If you loved your plant enough and it was really filthy, then we’ll take a clone of it and grow another! And you can keep sending us money. Only 38 cents per day*

*based on $1387.00 ten year membership payable in advance. Void in Utah.

Canbera, City of Buildings

Name a country who’s capital city is not a sea-port or on a large river with access to the sea. London, Paris, Moscow, Washington, all have sea access. Yes, yes there’s Geneva, Lassa and the capitals of a few other land-locked countries where they had no choice, but by and large, and I use that term without fully understanding it (by what? large what?), given the option, most countries have their capital city near the sea or on a major river. Usually this is because those cities traditionally had more trade and hence became larger and it was a logical progression to become the capital.

Australia built it’s capital city specifically to be the capital. Sydney wanted to be boss and Melbourne wanted to be boss so to solve the dispute they built a new city just to spite everybody, and they stuck it in the mountains 300km from the sea, or anywhere else. That’ll show them, they said, whoever they were. The Prime Minister has a residence there of course, nice big sandstone mansion, fully staffed with staff and empty of anyone else. The Prime Minister lives in Sydney. And the rest of the politicians of course live in their electorates so it’s a city of bureaucrats and museums. I believe the bureaucracy museum is located there.

The National War Museum is there and they say it takes three days to see it properly. Aussies like their wars, well not the getting-shot-at parts, just the ra-ra and hip-ho parts. They look good in those hats. Every year, on Anzac Day, thousands of young Aussies travel to Gallipoli, Turkey to honour the Diggers who fought and died in WWI in Australia’s most celebrated battle by getting honourably shit-faced and respectfully littering the site with empty beer cans. Turkey is rather good about it and puts out Porta-Potties for them each year. Australia lost that battle, by the way. It is Australia’s Alamo, except in this case they were the Mexicans and them in the fort won. Also Davey Crocket was called Dazza.