It’s a Matter of Waste
Pictured above is a landfill–the place where unwanted waste is disposed of. Huge mounds of waste are dumped into behemoth holes in the earth dug specifically to hold everything discarded by humans. While much of what people toss into heaps is recyclable, people choose to bag it and drop it in their garbage cans along with a large amount of compostable waste, purely for convenience. Only around 25% of recyclable materials currently make it to recycle centers due to human laziness. Now, some haulers are trying to capitalize of people’s lack of knowledge and dump their recyclables in one container while ignoring glass, polystyrene and batteries. Shame, shame!
by Blodwyn Smythe,
Robot Excretory Reporter
SEDONA, AZ: Sir William Randolph, World Famous Publisher of the Sedona Excentric and Director of ExcentricWorld.com, stood at the podium in front of the plethora of microphones at the lot next to El Portal, Sedona, after breaking fast there, to address a global audience with regard to people’s waste.
“With the rhetoric flying around the capital beltway and throughout pundit-land everywhere,” he began, after clearing his throat by gargling a liquid from his monogrammed flask, “I felt I should hold a press conference and relay to you some episodes and events that already have shown to have a significant impact on society, locally and globally. I’ll begin by telling you that your own Sedona Recycles needs your support. This group of dedicated workers is doing everything possible to keep your waste out of landfills.
“They are now even taking blocks of polystyrene foam, and dealing with lower valued packaging. Besides that, some people think the bins are their personal dumping grounds. You’d be amazed at how much waste they have to sift through to send clean materials to be recycled. We’re talking dirty diapers and all. So, next time you stop by to drop off your stuff at your recycling center, hand them a hefty check with your gratitude for their tireless efforts to help you be a better steward of your surroundings.
“If you’re curious about my publication, we’ve been printing on partially recycled paper since it was available.”
“What about rumors of robotic waste coming out of Canada?” asked a reporter from Sedona’s small, other paper.
“Wow, that’s the most intelligible question I have been asked by your paper in twenty-four years,” Sir William chuckled. “According to high sources, Canadian medical researchers have developed synthetic poop to cure a deadly gastrointestinal infection. They call it RePOOPulate. Researchers found that the synthetic poop cured gastrointestinal infections caused by an antibiotic-resistant bacteria. I don’t know about you guys, but I think that’s some serious crap.”
“You said you wanted to talk about waste, but so far, you have talked about recycling and robots,” shouted some radio pundit. “Got anything relevant to the subject matter?”
Sir William glared at the questioner with a scowl of disdain followed by a smirk of disappointment. “I eat people like you for lunch. Thank God for the Canadian’s new invention.”
The crowd erupted with raucous laughter. “If it appears that I am ignoring you in the foreseeable future, take it personally.” Sir William gargled again, possibly feeling the effects of some bug that had been permeating the Verde Valley since the holidays.
“Then there’s this story about the waste from a personal bathroom used by the secretary of the Interior under former President George W. Bush, Dick Kempthorne, costing $222,000.”
According to recent news reports, the 2007 renovation, while the country’s financial status was rapidly heading south. No detail was overlooked, from a $3,500 sub-zero refrigerator and a $689 faucet to a $600 toilet. Even the vintage tissue holder cost $65. The story came from ABC, which first filed a Freedom of Information Act request on the renovation four years ago. This is an example of waste on many levels. This extreme case of narcissism wastes time, energy, space and natural resources.
“Once again, President Obama is on the receiving end of the bathroom spending blame, as the discovery of the luxurious waste was uncovered during his presidency and therefore it as guilt by association,” Sir William smiled. “I swear if we do get invaded by extraterrestrials, people having difficulty accepting a person of color (even though the color is pecan tan) as President of the United States will blame him for it. And the funny thing is the very same people who have this infliction, do their very best to make themselves that color every summer. Some even try it year ’round in those sunning caskets. Still others try to spray it on. It seems a bunch of people want to look pecan tan, they just don’t want to be pecan tan. That’s a waste of sunlight and Coppertone.”
“You seem to be getting pretty diverse with your definition of people’s waste, Sir William,” stated some guy. The newspaper magnate shook his head in agreeance.
“Well, people waste comes in many forms. You have individuals who waste energy repeatedly by spending their lives keeping you in a perpetual state of fear, feeding your paranoia while they get rich.”
“Can you give us an example?” asked an obviously concerned listener. “It’s like a group telling you to arm yourself against a government possessing nuclear and chemical weapons. They do that to increase sales and memberships to make more money to waste on political campaigns. For them, I quote David Baldacci, ‘Why waste time trying to discover the truth, when you can so easily create it?’
“The final kind of people waste is human waste coming from our mouths, usually spewed by an intolerant, prejudiced, ignorant naysayer. It’s foul and worthy of proper disposal in the gutter it evolved from.
“So, my friends, waste not, want not. That’s what I always say. Or, maybe I say it at least once a year. I didn’t mention anything about being wasted, but that is for another day. Many of my high sources fall into that category. “I’d go on, but judging by your chorus of blank stares, I can see it’s time for me to leave, slip into my mud wrestling outfit and do something about my growing waist.”
That being said, Sir William gestured to the crowd and ascended into his waiting limousine.
