I don’t care about the environment. There. I said it.
I mean it too.
I don’t go around looking for ways to pollute it, but I certainly don’t go out of my way to protect it, either. Oh hell, if there’s a garbage can and a recycling bin RIGHT NEXT to each other and I have a plastic bottle to discard, nine times out of ten I’ll chuck it in the bin. Unless the bin has the lid with hole cut into it and I have to carefully place said empty bottle thru the hole. That requires effort. One must only take a cursory look at my life to see that it’s not filled with the rewards of effort.
I’m certainly not going to purchase a vehicle based on it’s environmental impact. I want a car that looks cool and is relatively inexpensive. If it comes down to a hybrid vs. a non-hybrid with a six disc changer and fancy wheels - I’ll be mucking up the ozone while listening to 7 straight hours of Motley Crue. If they make a Prius someday that doesn’t look like an isosceles triangle and costs less than twenty four grand - I’m in. Until then I’ll drive my Ford Mustang all over hell and back. If you’re a tree-hugging, edible shoe wearing freak, be glad I’ve lost my hair. The aqua-net I’d use, by itself, could disintegrate Venus. Plastic is better for carrying groceries. Styrofoam soaks up the grease from my Chinese food better than paper. Convenience is a more paramount concern for me than the rainforests of the Amazon. It is for most people, they just won’t admit it.
People will sometimes ask me how I can be so cavalier about the future of the world.
“Don’t you care about your children’s future?” they’ll say, all indignant.
Of course I do. I love my kids. The environment will be fine for at least their lifetime.
“What about your children’s children?”
I say that with no malice. I don’t even KNOW my children’s children. They might be dicks. Genuine assholes who don’t deserve forests and grass and clean air. It’s very genetically possible that my grandkids will be jerks. I’d hate to think I spent years riding pubic transportation for people who turn out to be mean little shits.
When I’m done with the environment in say 30 or 40 years, I’m done. Think of it like an ex-girlfriend. When you break up with her, are you hoping that you’ve left a positive impact and everyone after you will get to enjoy her too?
Of course not. You want her ruined. Every last bit of her used up. You want the guys that come after you to say “Sweet Mother of Jesus, you are a wreck.”
That’s how I feel about the environment. I may be one of the few people who’ll admit it. I may be one of the few people who’ll admit the ex-girlfriend thing too. Possibly the only one who’s not in 4 times a week therapy.
I can only afford to go twice.