Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years: Version 2.0!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Plastic!

I work for a petrochemical company.

We make all kinds of stoopid shit out of plastic.  Most of that crap is completely useless.

Most of that crap sells for $1.99 at your local dollar store.

One question that I deal with from friends back home is:  How can you do it?

Don't you know that your job is all about the Evil Empire?

Don't you realize that money doesn't make the world go round?

Don't you understand that you're aiding in perpetuating a system that will doom us all?

Don't you KNOW??!!!

Yes.

I get it.  I saw Addicted to Plastic.

I KNOW what it's all about, man.

But honestly, I don't think you get it.  Without some cataclysmic event that would decimate the majority of the human population and create a bottleneck in human evolution, it isn't desirable to stop the machine.  Only a sick fuck would seriously wish that upon us.

In fact, we should step it up.

That swirling gyre of plastic in the Pacific Ocean will one day make a continent.

And I plan on owning a big chunk of that valuable real estate.

And even if that doesn't happen, we'll have a fairly easily accessible source of petrochemical products to recycle and reuse. 

We can just send out the trawlers, and instead of bringing in huge schools of fish, they'll bring in bags and bags of valuable plastic.

Either way, I win.  I helped bring it about.  Me.

And that's how I lull myself to sleep at night.  That and 2/3 of a bottle of Bombay gin.

See you tomorrow.

1 comment:

Todd McCoy said...

In the future, Christmas will be canceled. We won't be able to waste plastic on Barbies, because we will need that high quality plastic for prosthetic limbs. Sex toys will be so overpriced by then you can forget about a RealDoll unless your a Saudi Arbian prince. I really hope you take your job seriously, and put some love into that plastic. Maybe, just maybe, that plastic earwax scoop will still be around when the shit hits the fan. On that note, please invent what I just mentioned. I'm sick of using my finger nail.

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