RESOLUTION ROCK
Big Wheel Magazine: January, 2006
Damn, another year behind us—more sand at the bottom of the hourglass, an unknown amount left above.
Truthfully, as of this writing the calendar still reads 2006—no, it still reads 2005.
That’s just how fast this year flew by: I didn’t even have time to get a new calendar.
I’m communicating with you from the past, back before the holidays came and let you down like an overtly friendly mall Santa. You probably celebrated December 25th (the birthday of the Persian, Roman, and Greek god, Mithra, who also had a last supper and was also reincarnated three days after a horrible death—purely coincidence, I’m sure) at your proper house of worship, most likely Walmart. Nothing says “I love illegitimate God-babies” like credit card debts.
2007 C.E., and things don’t seem to be getting much better locally, nationally, or globally (personally, either, but that’s only some of your business). Our first reaction, of course, is to perceive things to be the worst they’ve ever been, like those door-to-door purveyors of religion want you to believe. But we can only truly comment on today’s situation. None of us can describe factually how horrible, say, the 1300’s were. (I heard they really sucked, fucking Moors!)
We as a species have accomplished more in the last century than all of the prior centuries combined, from stamping out debilitating diseases to peering through the universe towards the beginning of time. Yet, as some weird sort of geo-payback, one of the unintended results of our progress has been the degradation of our planet and, by proxy, us.
Sure, there are tiny lights of hope beaming from the darkness, like alligator eyes in the flood-ravaged American gulf (FEMA is a four letter word). Some major cities like Seattle and Denver have adapted Kyoto-type regulations—hybrid city cars, energy saving streetlamps, etc.—to help thwart federal policies that can only be described as driven purely by financial incentives rather than scientific facts.
For the most part, though, the news is pretty distressing, even if you’re paying only a slight amount of attention.
So how about trying to make a difference—however small—while living on this chunk of dirt, metal, and mostly-undrinkable-water? Look, the dinosaur era lasted over 200 million years, right? And we’re only up to around 200,000 (unless you’re a creationist. In that case, please return to the 1300’s). We can’t let those huge stupid lizards outdo us! Come on, we can control our environment AND cluster bomb civilians, we deserve it more.
Therefore this month’s diatribe—the first of 2007—will be a list of four small things that can contribute to the betterment of our home planet. Wise readers of Big Wheel, this is Al G.’s official short list of New Year’s resolutions … for you.
Yes, for you, I don’t make resolutions. I got commitment issues.
And besides, there’s nothing I need to improve anyway.
These are just a few things you can do that together and over time can make a difference, if but a small one. And, just as every voyage begins with a step, and each arson begins with a spark, it all has to start somewhere.
Just think about the longer term effects of your actions. There’s no good reason to add to our stockpile of problems, unless of course you’re Mr. Bush or an asshole. You can read, so you’re not the former.
1.) Don’t be an asshole.
Should be simple, eh? But it isn’t for a frighteningly large amount of people. Relax, have some patience, things can suck for everybody. Nobody wants to hear you pissing and complaining about everything, and no one wants to be treated like shit. Get over it, you’re not that important, and in the grand scheme of things, you don’t even matter. To quote Jello Biafra, “You know some people don’t take no shit. Maybe if they did they’d have half a brain left”.
2.) Recycle and reuse.
Yeah, I sound like a public service announcement, and the technology we use to recycle today is nowhere near as efficient or pollution-free as it should be. Just try to make less garbage. Reuse what you can. Those plastic water bottles, for example: three million of them end up in
3.) USE A FUCKING ASHTRAY, ASH HOLE.
Where exactly do you think the butts of your smokes go when you toss them on the sidewalk or out your window? Do you think they dissolve, like Christ on a tongue? The largest amount of litter on our roads, beaches, and parks? Cigarette butts. Maybe a small fraction of them get swept up by a street-sweeper or someone of a poor career choice, but most of them end up in the storm drains. Then they hang ten to our filthy oceans and beaches, where they join billions of their toxic friends. The filters are composed of cellulose acetate—plastic—and have been found in the stomachs of sea turtles, fish, birds, whales and other marine creatures who mistake them for food. They eat the litter, think they’re full, and die of starvation or poisoning. All because that ash can is a whopping two feet away.
4.) Don’t be so goddamn gullible!
And I’m not talking about things like the invasion of
There, see what I mean? A few—okay, four—little things to keep in mind as you watch this year fly by. We’re all on the same boat, and our captains are heartless, braindead criminals. Until that changes (holding your breath not recommended) it’s pretty much up to us.
When you’re lying in that posture-pedic death bed, drawing that last breath, wouldn’t you be happier leaving this place knowing that at least you didn’t add to the problem?
Happy New Year. Now don’t be an asshole.
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