Fireworks Cleanup Post #photography
We consider ourselves fairly typical Americans. It was a few nights before the Fourth of July, decidedly my least favorite night of the year. We were in our living room, sitting on our asses and watching TV. Like I said, typical.
Suddenly there was a boom. I looked out the front window and billowing smoke rose from our front yard garden. It had begun.
“Those fireworks are close,” I said. “Damn close.” The shit was literally raining down right on top of us.
On July 4th itself I went outside to see what the hell was going on. I saw one of those colorful bursts like you’d see in any major fireworks display except it was directly over my house. It went off about 20-30 feet over our roof. Two things were immediately obvious: Why don’t they do this shit above their own houses? They’re too good for that! And, wow, they are really good shots. We were being targeted.
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Up Side On Side Down Sideways
Tiny Solo Cup. (Great song, too.)
Factoid: In 2010 Americans expended 250 million tons of trash. 93.2 percent consisted of the Solo 2 oz Plastic Souffle Cup.
I often wonder what it would be like to explain certain aspects of my existence to an isolated indigenous person who was totally unaware of the modern world. I have the feeling that even mundane things like money, banks, interest rates, and mortgage-backed securities with post-load risk factors (fully assumable) would be hard to communicate with hand gestures. (Aside from the obvious one, I mean. I have a feeling they could pick that one up pretty quick.)
“You see, Ndugu, this is what we call a storage unit.”
“Meester Tom, what is this place? It is quite strange. I feel we should not be here.”
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May the Fourth be with you
Lightsaber chopsticks will tame that tough piece of meat!
Today is “Star Wars Day.” May 4th. Get it? Hardy har har.
Tonight at 6pm Pacific Time there will be an announcement of intergalactic proportions. It has been a tightly guarded secret and there’s even a web site with a countdown clock to the event:
Why wait? I don’t want to spoil all the fun but I can explain what’s all about right now. It’s just another veritable benefit of being a reader of this blog.
A few months ago George Lucas clenched his butt cheeks and an idea was born. “What if,” he said, “there was a way for those idiots [fans] to buy even more copies of the movies they’ve already owned many times over??? Hell, I’d make a lot more money.”
The announcement tonight will be:
Star Wars: The Complete Saga Blu-ray box set
Retail price: $129.95 USD.
Wow. Really? This is almost as good as the time LeBron James thought it would be a good idea to make a prime-time TV show based on the premise: Should I shit on my loyal fans? (Spoiler alert: He did.) I’ll never forget the announcer who sounded just like Russ Hodges (of “the Giants win the pennant” fame) on that live broadcast: He went for the money! He went for the money!
So George Lucas has decided to suckle on the teat of consumption and this is supposed to be big “news.”
I had high hopes for a pay-per-view event where we see him thrown into a trash compactor but, alas, it is not mean to be.
Remember, you heard it here first!
UPDATE: Now with more video goodness. The tale of George Lucas in college…
Link to video
To boldly go where some asshole has gone before
Ah! The great outdoors. I’m fortunate to live in what I consider the best spot on planet Earth. Just minutes in any direction can be found natural wonders. Rivers, lakes, mountains, forests, the ocean and more.
Having an active imagination, it is easy for me to escape from reality as I hike through the forest. “When was the last time another human was here?” I may ask myself. Who knows. It could be years, maybe even decades.
But then…
I look down at my feet and see one of the most grotesque sights imaginable. Something like an aluminum beer can. Ugh. The trick is trying to keep it from making me angry.
It is easy to drift off into imagination and think, “All I need is a time machine and an assault rifle. I’ll nip this problem in the bud!” Oh yes, that is a very satisfying thought.
What is the scope of this sort of thing? I can go to any wilderness reserve or area. Hike in a random direction for miles. Stop. Scan around my feet. The probability is ~ 99.99 percent that some form of human trash will be visible. It might be a cigarette butt, broken glass from a beer bottle, a beer bottle cap, a beer can, a cigaratte pack or a soda bottle/can. It’s simply astounding the number of assholes it must take to be so blaise and produce that amount of trash.
This is also why I don’t believe in karma. I’ve thought about it, really thought about it, and I can’t remember tossing a piece of trash, not once, in my entire life. Yet everwhere I go I encounter the trash of other jerks. No karma!
I’ll keep exploring the beautiful outdoors and I feel fortunate to live where I do, but as I keep finding ugly trash, I’ll be dreaming for the day when the time machine is finally invented.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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