What Are We Gonna Do With All This Trash?: Oil Spill Depression

June 08, 2010

Oil Spill Depression

Originally, I was going to take this opportunity to ruin the shit out of everybody's day with pictures of the eradication of the environment and wildlife drowning in oil, but I changed my mind and decided to post pictures of puppies instead...

Awww...

Well I'll be...

My Goodness, that is adorable..

Shucks!

Ahhhhhhhh...much better. Now on to something much more uplifting and less morbid than corporate-sponsored-razing-of-the-planet, celebrity deaths! Woohoo!

Rue McClanahan - will always be remembered as the 2nd hottest Golden Girl (behind Estelle Getty, ROWR!)

Dennis Hopper - even though I smoke a lot, I totally do not understand the appeal of Easy Rider. I mean, did hippies really get shot just riding down the highway, minding their own business in the 1960s? Anywho, he more than made up for that crappy movie with his portrayal of the journalist in Apocalypse Now, aka the best war movie of all time--yeah, I said it; no, I didn't forget about Full Metal Jacket. Then he did those Nike commercials ("Bruce Smith does bad things, man") and became an outspoken conservative, perhaps topping all other Republicans in terms of total drug use. The end. Most excellent.

Lindsay Lohan - oops, jumped the gun a bit on this one. Soon though, according to my sources, as well as the laws of physics. Tick tock tick tock

John Wooden - not really a celebrity per se, but he was basically basketball's version of Vince Lombardi, always speaking in witty aphorisms like, "What you are as a person is far more important than what you are as a basketball player." Obviously, he said that way before he realized you could make millions upon millions of dollars playing basketball. Oh well, live and learn, Mr. Wooden.

Sigh. I thought this entry about human mortality would cheer me up and take my mind off of thousands upon thousands of barrels of oil continuously spewing into the ocean, but it hasn't really helped too much. Can't we just airlift that floating morass of trash from the Pacific (and the Atlantic) that Mike mentioned a few posts ago and cram it down the pipe, thereby using one environmental problem to solve another?

1 comment:

Mike said...: Best war movie is Paths of Glory, followed closely by M*A*S*H.

I know what you're saying about a sort of "oil depression." I'll often watch that YouTube channel that shows a live shot of the leak, and I can't help thinking that some totally irreversible shit is going on. I honestly don't know how we come back after this. We've fucked up very well this time, and it seems irreprable.; 1:04 PM

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A History Of Trash

Trash, at first, was a pretty cool guy. You know, he’d come over with some beers, and you’d hang out and have a couple of laughs. Maybe Trash brought some weed with him, and you guys tried to sync up Dark Side Of The Moon with The Wizard Of Oz until you remembered you lost your VHS copy of that movie sometime in college and that you fucking hate Pink Floyd. Good times were had, nonetheless.

But then, you don’t know what changed, but Trash started to overstay his welcome. He’d just linger for hours, never taking the hint you wanted him to leave, no matter how many times you yawned obnoxiously or mentioned how early you had to get up tomorrow. Trash just didn’t get it. You were getting older. You didn’t have the time anymore to stay up until 3 a.m. to talk about the Port season of “The Wire” or how much you miss Jawbox. Eventually, you just stopped taking Trash’s phone calls and no longer replied to his group e-mails about sneaking into abandoned mental hospitals.

Last time you saw Trash, he was smoking alone outside a local dive bar, looking down at his decaying and mismatched shoes. You hoped he had been doing well. You hoped he had not been hurt by the disintegration of your friendship. And if he had, you wanted to comfort him. You wanted to tell him that even though people move on with their lives, it doesn’t mean they stop caring. You wanted him to see in your eyes a sincere appreciation for the time you shared, because all the relationships in our lives help make us who we are, and even if you weren’t the best of friends anymore, you wanted him to know that there would always be a piece of Trash in your heart.

But instead, you looked away and crossed the street. You were with your new girlfriend, and you really didn’t want to have to explain Trash to her. She’d never understand.