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Bigfoot’s Carbon Footprint

I recently decided to reduce my carbon footprint.

As a student pilot spending an hour a week flying a plane around in circles, it suddenly dawned on me that said plane consumes a lot of aviation fuel.

This caused some pangs of guilt. After all, I’m not even doing something useful, like traveling from point A to point B.

I’m flying in circles.

Badly.

As a student, I’m not that good at flying in circles yet. More like sad, misshapen ovals.

The point being: increased carbon footprint.

Turns out buying a smaller shoe size does nothing towards this reduction, and goes a long way towards giving you blisters.

After walking a day in those smaller shoes, I decided I needed to change tack.

So today, when I realized I’d forgotten to mail a bill and it was now due in two days (and one of those days was a Sunday), instead of driving the quarter-mile to the post office, I walked.

Both ways, even.

Because that makes more sense than driving to the airport, renting a plane, and then flying to the post office.

I mean, come on, how would I drop off the letter? Just throw it out the window as I soar overhead and hope?

Clearly, not a viable option for a member of the 99%.

So I went for the smaller carbon footprint option.

That’s me, a strident eco-activist hell-bent on saving the environment.

At least until I learn enough to fly out of here to a better environment.

I am always focused on personal growth and development, so when I embarked upon this walk it was with the intention of honing my environmental awareness.

I kept my eyes wide open.

And couldn’t help but notice all the cars on the road.

With the windows down.

And the stereos blasting music.

Music I don’t particularly care for.

One might even say music I hate.

Sell-my-kiddos’-soul-to-the-devil-to-make-it-stop hate.

There were two such cars.

Not only were the drivers guilty of reckless noise pollution, but with my newly-sensitized-to-the-environment eyes, I could also see the colossal waste of energy inherent in their thoughtless actions.

Not just the wear and tear on the tires and the road.

Not just the gas used to power the car.

It ends up being more gas than that. Turns out there’s increased fuel consumption to support the electrical system that fires those 20 tera-watt car stereo systems with their bowel-jarring subwoofers.

Oh yeah, and the increased use of water and laundry soap (and bleach) used by innocent bystanders to clean their underwear.

The urbanite’s carbon footprint looks a lot like Bigfoot’s.

If Bigfoot has a glandular disorder that leads to disproportionate foot growth.

My first thought was to start carrying water balloons filled with acid on my semi-regular jaunts to the post office.

Open windows, ya know.

Blinded asshats with an apparent hearing impairment can’t drive, thus shrinking their carbon footprint.

But then I thought about the energy cost of manufacturing the acid, and transporting it to my neighborhood, and realized the cost-to-benefit ratio of an acid attack made it not worth the effort.

Plus the whole jail thing. I couldn’t in good conscience become a ward of the state, forcing the taxpayers to bear the burden of my incarcerated carbon footprint.

I could yell at the drivers, but let’s face it, these guys are in cars while I’m on foot, giving them a significant advantage in a run-down-that-guy-with-my-car fight.

Never come to a run-down-that-guy-with-my-car fight without your car.

It ends up being a short fight and you look like an idiot.

Plus these drivers tend to be imposing guys (notice it’s never women who do this?), and I do not look like your typical I-can-stand-up-to-imposing-guys-no-problem guy.

I look and am more of a coward-who-scurries-into-the-shadows-at-the-first-sign-of-conflict kind of guy.

That rules out throwing rocks, too.

So now I’m at a loss. It seems I can do nothing to get these audio polluters to stop.

Which is why I have decided, with a heavy heart, to start driving to the post office. With my radio on loud so I can’t hear all the scary drivers blasting their music.

I’ve done the math, and it’s the best way to reduce my carbon footprint.

 
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Posted by on 25 January 2014 in Life

 

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The Great Alphabet Conspiracy – The Z Is A Lie

The alphabet is evil.

I’ll bet you didn’t know that.  But it is.  It is evil to the core and out to get you.  OK, maybe not you, not yet anyway, but it is definitely out to get me.

I should clarify that I’m speaking about the English alphabet.  Even more specifically, the American English alphabet.  The British English alphabet is safe.  (I mean, come on, how can any alphabet that ends in ‘Zed’ be evil?  Simply not possible!)

The American English alphabet is evil for one reason: it has a twisted and extremely irritating limitation on the use of the letter ‘u’.  Every year, because of its archaic rule system, developed over a hundred years ago in the darkest corner of Western civilization, we are forced to drop the letter ‘u’ from a myriad of words, which has a devastating impact on the biblio-diversity of our language.

As an example, look how flat and undernourished the words ‘humor’ and ‘color’ and ‘draft’ look when compared to their proper British spelling, ‘humour’ and ‘colour’ and ‘draught’.  (And hey, there’s another nasty little gotcha of this upstart alphabet – requiring the substitution of ‘f’ for ‘gh’ – it’s diabolical!)

When I say it’s diabolical, I’m not exaggerating.  The American English alphabet is a product of the Devil herself.  (Yes, herself.  Only a woman could be this evil.  Go ahead, write your angry comments about how sexist that remark is, but it’s true.  Check out Genesis if you don’t believe me – that snake was female!)  You see, bastardizing the American English alphabet was the start of a grand project to create a schism between the United Kingdom and the United States of America, thus leaving the whole of the Atlantic Ocean up for grabs instead of under the protection of a powerful and united alliance between two mighty nations that spoke exactly the same language.

It is the American English alphabet that is directly responsible for the furled brows and confused expressions found on Americans when they hear about spotted dick and jumpers and sticky wickets.  Oh, the tragedy of it all.  And hate this devilish scheme all you want, you can’t help but admire the seductive beauty of it.  “We’re just limiting the use of the letter ‘u’ to save time on type-setting and money on ink.  For every hundred pages you print in this way, you save two and a half pages of paper.  That’s good for the environment!  (The Devil is not red, as commonly depicted, but green.  Very, very green.)  An inconsequential change with vast economic savings over time.  What could be the harm?”  Of course, this question was posed while She was wearing a very low-cut, very form-fitting dress, thus confuzzling poor Man even more.  Because let’s face it, the Devil, she is hot.

What could be the harm, indeed.  Well-played, Satan, well-played.

And off we trundled, smiles on our faces as we thought about all the money we’d save (and the curves of that clinging dress), down the path of the damned to the village of the damned with all its bastard blond children of the damned.  There were some on that path who saw the danger, who stopped and turned back and tried to warn the rest of us as we passed by.  Jesus (he spoke English, I’m pretty sure, based on all the movies he’s been in that were in English).  Benedict Arnold (who died trying to keep our nations united).  George W. Bush (whose murderous crimes against American English can only be called downright heroic once you learn the truth about the Alphabet Conspiracy.)  And the most famous of the prophets (which isn’t saying much), George Bernard Shaw, who tried to tip us off with that completely misunderstood statement, “England and America are two countries separated by a common language.”  Now there was a man who knew about the treachery of immortal women forged in Hellfire and prancing about in extremely tight-fitting dresses.

And now, of course, me.

Which is why the American English alphabet is trying to do me in.  Me and anyone else who has gotten to the end of this entry, which means you too are in mortal peril.

There’s only one way to protect yourself so you can carry on the message.  Switch to a new alphabet.  Kanji, Greek, or, if you’re lazy like me, British English.

And you have to admit, those words look so much better with the extra ‘u’.

 

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