Gut Rumbles

September 09, 2008


Originally published January 2, 2002

If you want to risk a serious bitch-slap from me, walk up and tell me you are an "environmentalist." I am a non-violent person and I believe in different strokes for different folks. If you're a homosexual, that's fine with me. If you're attending church at a mosque and studying Islam, that's fine too, as long as I don't see detonator cords hanging out of your Rebok's when you're over at my house preaching about the virtues of your newfound faith. But the tree-hugging, whale-saving, organic-food munching, hard-core greenies started to chap my ass a long time ago and now I rate them higher than the anti-smoking Nazis as a genuine menace to my freedom, the American Way of Life and Civilization as We Know It. The really scary part is the way they've managed to infiltrate what passes for a public education system in this country so they can begin to brainwash children at an impressionable age. I've seen what passes for a "social studies" textbook in schools today, and it sends shivers down my spine.

My son is learning that "chemicals" are evil. He is not learning that the reason he can read his social studies book in the first place is a series of chemical reactions taking place constantly in his body and his brain. Hell, his bloodless cunt of a mother IS A CHEMIST, for crying out loud, and his poor, old daddy has worked more than 20 years in A CHEMICAL MANUFACTURING PLANT. He is aware of these facts, but he is beginning to eye us both with suspicion because of what he is learning in school.

I blame a lot of the success of the environmental movement on the news media. I once wanted to be a journalist, until I spent two years at the Henry W. Grady School of Journalism at the University of Georgia. I met some of the dumbest, most uninformed, unquestioning cretins I've ever met in my life there. Many of them are successful reporters now. Lots of them, no doubt, became "environmental" reporters.

Most of the "environmental" reporters I read seem to be those who could not write a decent feature story, fell asleep at town hall meetings, didn't understand sports and misspelled names in obituaries. But they could find a way to use the word "toxic" at least once in every paragraph they wrote about environmental issues. Therefore, they rose to a top position, through sheer natural ability, the way a turd floats.

"Toxic" is probably the most abused word in the language today. That's because most people, especially environmental reporters, don't understand that it's not the poison that kills you-- it's the dose. Pure nitrogen is toxic, yet 78% of the atmosphere we breathe is pure nitrogen. Distilled water is toxic if you try to breathe it, but people pay $1.00 a bottle to drink water not nearly as pure. Simple table salt is toxic when taken in sufficient quantities to overload your kidneys, but without a sufficient amount in your diet, the LACK OF IT is toxic. Phosphoric acid is toxic, but when combined in the right "toxic brew," another requisite phrase for hard-hitting environmental reporting, you have a can of Coca-Cola.

I've also wondered why most self-proclaimed "environmentalists" seem to be cut from the same bolt of cloth. I can pick them out of a crowd almost without fail. The men are skinny and bald on top, with pony tails behind. They almost always wear those round, wire-framed John Lennon glasses and have jobs that keep them in air-conditioned offices all day, which gives them a pasty and pale complexion. They have carefully clipped fingernails but dirty, untrimmed toenails that they frequently display in leather sandals. They drive BMWs or Volkswagon beetles.

The women are no better, because they wear no makeup, don't brush their hair, appear shrill and somewhat deranged, and care more about the fate of a southern oak tree-slug than our soldiers in Afghanistan. They drive mini-vans and curse SUVs. They are attracted to skinny, bald guys with pony tails and dirty toenails, which is a good thing, because without that sort of CHEMISTRY, neither type would ever get laid.
They both make me want to puke.

I don't know a single serious farmer out here where I live who is an environmentalist. In fact, most of the conversation I hear around the seed and feed store is about how to keep the environment from taking away your crop and leaving you bankrupt. Mother Nature is not the farmer's friend. Farming is a constant, everyday battle AGAINST Mother Nature, to keep her from sending plagues of vermin that devour your crop, too much rain that drowns it, or not enough so that it cooks in the field. But these guys and their wives aren't pale and skinny. They are sunburnt and rugged. They have dirty fingernails from tending the soil and I have no idea what their toenails look like, because they wear stout boots meant for working. They drive pickup trucks and fly American flags from their front porch. They are the salt of the earth.

Oops! Salt is toxic, isn't it? No wonder environmentalists don't like these people.

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