Personally, I've hypothesized that discontent leads to plagiarism.
Discontent leads to the replication and exploitation of each natural element in every way, shape, and form. If you look closely enough, you’ll find that we are deeply unsatisfied with nature.
Observe the world around you. Look at the things that make up your surrounding environment.
Notice anything?
We actually owe ALOT more to nature than one thinks.
For example, when the Wright Brothers received their award for the airplane, the acceptance speech should've started out with something along the lines of, "Well, first off, I'd like to thank, umm… every wild animal that flies and glides."
Come on guys, like the dude who invented the train didn't have a thing for snakes either? And Mr. Ford, tell me, why is the most popular term of measurement for power named after a horse?
The list goes on and on.
Every single thing produced by man has been created before. The ideas of today act as mere shadows of former designs. Only nature should be awarded for ingenuity, not man.
Nature is much like one my favorite comic book heroes, the Incredible Hulk. They both possess shades of green, and you absolutely can not afford to disturb them because they can turn on you instantly.
At the same rate, nature's forgery is much like the Hulk's recurring nemesis, the Abomination. This classic match up immaculately represents our current climate. Like nature, the Hulk was created through a catastrophic accident of extraordinary proportions. Afterwards, he finds out that his existence prompts an antonymous force, the Abomination, to crave his awesome power. This antonymous force works to deliberately imitate the Hulk in a fruitless attempt to transcend him.
Modern conveniences epitomize our attempts to pirate nature in order to superficially transcend it.
For instance, glasses, contacts, cameras, and telescopes outmatch sight, computers outdo mind, and TiVo outshines memory. These innovations may seem very helpful and powerful, but c’mon, even the Abomination displayed twice the strength as his green counterpart. But this strength is blind to say the least. In the end, it's like chasing a rainbow.
The most copied aspect of nature is probably the name itself.
Walk down any isle in a grocery store, and you're sure to find a plethora of products with the words 'All Natural' riddled all over them. It seems to be the universal tagline for everything with a barcode. If you paid any attention at all up to this point, I shouldn't even have to explain this (2nd all-time) paradox. This 'All Natural' endeavor makes no sense at all. False advertising is a crime, but it's even more criminal to have one of the most revered words in the human vocabulary misrepresented like this. It's like stamping 'All Natural' on some nasty, worn street whore.
Car companies are included in this crime as well. From now on, all you're going to see are advertisements for the cleanest, greenest, and most environmentally safe vehicles on the road. Saying that cars can help the environment is like saying AIDS can help immune systems. As long as the unnatural idea of a car exists in the natural environment, it will ALWAYS hurt a million times more than it will help. Cars can be bulleted on the same list as most consumer products, and I really don't even need a good argument against consuming. It just sucks anymore. I feel so fucking nauseous when I'm so full and immobile after eating a huge dinner, while watching a hot dog eating contest that's followed by a 'feed these children' commercial. But, you know what really makes me sick? Seeing never-ending piles of shit littered everywhere.
Is it just me? Or does more and more shit get illegally dumped all over the place?
If Adam and Eve taught us anything, it's that there’s an A and E in all of us. We are all human. The propensity to be senseless is completely inherent. So, collectively, how stupid are we to trust people with all of this damn shit?
Who let the world get like this?
The worst part is that it's not going anywhere. We've collected so much junk throughout the years thanks to assembly lines and robots. Where's it all going to go?
The Pacific Ocean?
Naples?
Your backyard?
Or how about my backyard? Ooops, too late. Waste Management or Umbrella, as I like to call them, is already in my fucking backyard. Thanks fer yer trash ya'll!
It's all SHIT.
And believe me when I tell you that shit is something to be taken very seriously.
I learned that in the summer of 2001 at fifteen years old when I was dared to hit a car with a bag full of our present topic.
Now, I know what you’re asking yourself right now, and the answer is:
"Yes, my mom was very proud."
Please, give me a chance to explain my bizarre adolescent behavior.
You see, once my friends and I reached our teens, we discovered that striking cars with random objects at night was thee ultimate high. Whether we actually hurled something at a car, or faked it, like the little bastards we were, the intent was to get chased around the neighborhood by outraged drivers. When the car came to a screeching halt, the reverse lights lit up along with our heart rates.
Only looking for the most lucrative situations, we only targeted newly licensed drivers, whose sound systems cost more than the car itself, and rich folks who stopped at nothing to avoid letting poor dirtbags like us get the best of them. Both demographics put up one hell of a fight.
It was a tradition, and our idea of insane fun.
My friends and I liked being chased so much that we even went as far as being run down by fireworks on slow nights when the human pursuits failed. Seriously...Every so often about ten of us collected a bunch of bottle rockets, and took them over to our high school parking lot. There, we would snap off the superfluous wooden tails of each rocket leaving just the explosive and the connecting wick. Standing together in a tight circle, one person would be designated to light a rigged rocket and fling it in the air. The rocket hit its’ apex and started descending, which marked our universal cue to run like hell. The unwritten law of “running like hell” never changed either - no one ever looked back.
As soon as I had the hair singed off the back of my legs, I stopped participating, needless to say. Yep, like most people, I stopped once I got caught.
So, as I valiantly noted before, the moment that ended my career of car terrorism involved a fresh, steaming bag of doggy doo that sat at the bottom of a plastic grocery bag. I ended up with that bag for the same reasons you only offer that extra piece of cake to the fat kid. It was a sure way to get rid of it.
Besides, my inner Marty McFly never responded favorably after being called a chicken...or pussy. By the way, can you imagine if Biff actually called Marty a pussy?? Ha.Anyways, back to the past...
...I waited on the side of the road crouched next to a bush with the bag to my side safely stretched away from my body. I gripped the bag like the hammer that contestants use at one of those “test your strength” games. When the very next car drove by, I picked the bag up over my head and swung it downward with Herculean force. The bag exploded off of the back windshield on impact, and I instantaneously dove backwards to dodge the brief drizzle of poo shrapnel.
The remains of the busted bag didn’t even get a chance to flutter down onto the pavement before I heard an overly frightened voice shriek, "Oh my God! That's my mom!"
Indeed, I just hit my best friend's brand new Sonata with smelly canine excrement. Congratulations, me.
To make a short story even shorter, that night ended with my best friend cracking under the pressure from his parents and Johnny Law. I couldn’t believe that I was ratted out the same night. I’ll never know exactly how he folded, but I like to think my best friend wouldn’t just give me up that easily.
Regardless, there were never any hard feelings.
I just finally understood how Lefty Guns felt when he discovered Donnie’s true identity as an FBI agent. From the bad guy's perspective, I understood that it was my fault for putting the both of us in that situation. It was my best friend, so if it had to be anyone, I guess I'm glad it was him. Forget about it.
Honestly, the worst part of that night was walking up to my doorstep with the lousy cop who picked me up. Like most upstanding local law enforcers, he was solely interested in prosecuting a defenseless juvenile with no prior record to the fullest extent of the law.
I eventually found out there was a very good explanation for the officer’s incomprehensible cruelty. Apparently, the object I decided to displace all over the back end of my friend's car that night was more lethal than I initially thought.
I thought it was only poop. I thought it was only a harmless prank. I thought it wouldn’t be long before I started putting it into bags and lighting it on fire again.
I thought wrong.
The dog's fecal matter happened to raise some serious health risks. If it got into a facial orifice and caused anyone to fall ill, I was probably going to need a good lawyer. Thankfully, no one was hurt, and all charges against me were dropped.
I’ll never forget that night though - the night I realized that shit wasn't so humorous and benign anymore.
The comical façade of poop virtually disappeared!
My little world was rocked.
I couldn’t believe it.
It really wasn’t a laughing matter.
That just goes to show you - in this world, no one is impervious to shit. No one likes to take it or deal with it. We also can't ignore the fact that it needs to be disposed of properly. If you ever think shit isn't a big deal, you'll be knee deep in it.
Well, we are knee deep in it, and it’s about to hit the proverbial fan thanks to a heinously bad group efficacy.
We all need to change the way we think about shit, and start seeing it for what it really is. Once we embrace that concept, I think we can be well on our way to turning things around.
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