May 29th, 2012

Rants from the Rat-Race: Rubbish Resolution

Even when I’m bent over the barrel at work, plugging away at some project that will have a negligible effect on the company as a whole, my mind begins to wander and I start to think about the deeper questions. Why are we here? Is there a God, and if there is, why did he invent cancer? Does Michelle notice when I stare at her chest? The important things. Science can answer “how”, but I get caught up daydreaming about the “how come”.

For instance, how come we can’t shoot all of our trash into space?

Yahoo(!) Answers tells me that this would be ineffective from a cost-benefit perspective. But I see the glass half full. It looks to be very expensive to do this sort of thing, but can we really put a price on pandas and polars? The bears seem to be getting the short end of that stick.

Tom Hanks wouldn’t have to babysit a spacecraft. Ben Affleck wouldn’t have to drill a hole in an asteroid and blow it all up with a nuke. We could just build a cannon that shot metal canisters toward the sun, a hundred tons of KFC boxes, batteries and Surge bottles at a time.

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“But then we would just be polluting space!”, you might say. To that, I say- fuck it!

Dumping our garbage into orbit is a much better option than choking a flying squirrel to death with a plastic six-pack ring. Not that I care all that much about animals that I can’t pet, but if I was messing around in the rainforest and got killed by some gorilla’s garbage, I’d be pissed. Well, I wouldn’t be, because I would be dead, but I hope someone would carry the torch for me and lead a structured artillery assault against apes of all sorts. To avoid this bloodshed, I advocate the only logical alternative.

Am I contributing to the productivity and market placement of my company when I allow myself to question the status quo? Probably not, but neither does stealing staplers and selling them on eBay. But these are evils undertaken for the benefit of all mankind. Necessity is the mother of invention, so I refuse to sit idly by and let the beer cans I bury at the beach start a war-to-end-all-wars with the bald eagles and pilot whales.

Space Trash Cannon…you are go for launch.

— Tea Jones

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