So a buncha pointy-headed sciencey types are all upset because we're
"using up resources" and
"destroying the world." Well, boo hoo hoo! Do you hear that sound, sciencey-types? It is the world's largest violin playing just for the exhaustion of our natural resources. The violin is made entirely of mulched rainforest and played by enormous smoke-belching engines of steel and concrete, standing a thousand feet tall in glorious tribute to the undying achievement that has been man's rape of the natural world! Tomorrow it will be scrapped and replaced with a newer, bigger violin with built-in wireless and dolphin-exploding capabilities. Excelsior, my children!
"Oh but Giblets we will run out of resources and the world will end and oh what will we do." You mean what will
you do. Giblets doesn't need the world to last forever. He just needs it to last longer than he plans to use it. By the time the smog-choked Malthusian apocalypse comes Giblets will be long gone, either escaped in a rocket to Mars or happily expired in the midst of a gluttonous week-long oil binge. Those suckers from future generations can sweat it out trying to make a hemp-powered plane or edible plastic - serves 'em right for bein' born in the future! In the meantime there's only so much food, fuel, land, and water to go around, and Giblets is gonna use up as much as he can before any other Gibletses can get their grubby little hands on it! Fire up the engines! Pump up the nitrates! Giblets wants to stuff a panda full of coal just to watch it burn!
And when future civilization
does collapse into the dust of a ruined earth, where will all those good-hearted squishy sensible scientist types be? Dead, that's what. They will not last five minutes in the post-apocalyptic hellscape with their "conservationism" and their "respect for life" and their "zombie rights." It will take someone with the experience and amoral fortitude of a robber baron to bludgeon, plunder and cheat his way across the new American wasteland - someone like Giblets! Yes, Giblets and his people will proudly roam the last, reaping the dregs of the blasted, sun-scorched earth as the last chance for mankind's survival - and enter the realm of legends! They will call us strong. They will call us glorious. They will call us Republicans.
Labels: our world and how to kill it
