~For the past ten weeks I have attended school downtown. During that time, I have been accosted innumerable times by activists on every street corner, day and night, whether I was coming or going. They wave at me frantically from twenty yards away so that I cannot pretend to avert my attention. Armed with their Shield-of-Justice (read: clipboard) and smiles that could melt the very ice-caps they are intent upon saving, they begin their spiel. "Hi, I'm Brandi! Help me fight global warming?"~
No, Brandi (if that's your real name) I cannot help you fight global warming in the manner with which you would have me "help." I'm not giving you money and I'm not signing a petition to advance some ill defined measure on Capitol Hill that any evil corporation worth their salt can easily circumnavigate. You see, Brandi with an "i"—you cherry red-headed, peace-loving, iPod-grooving, Double Venti Cinnamon Latte slut who took up global warming as a cause because taking up slavery in the Congo is something you'd sooner see swept under the rug seeing how the silicon used to make your iPod comes from the Congo—If I actually cared about stopping global warming, I would actually do something relevant about it. I would be going to school to become an environmental or political scientist. Or, I would take up arms, raise an army, and overthrow China (while my country of origin refuses to sign the Kyoto Treaty). Or, I would stop myself and encourage everyone else from eating beef, soy, corn, and wheat. Unfortunately, I'm a philosophy major who'd rather address the problem of overpopulating the fucking rock we live on and the consequences of doing that, which is something no one wants to talk about because ARGH!, what good are we if we don't keep pumping out babies and raise them to be assholes like the assholes who are causing global warming? Brand"i", stop fighting a losing battle.
Let me tell you something else, Kelly Clipboard. Anyone over the age of twenty, a demographic I am clearly a part of, knows about climate change and doesn't need to be told what's up. If I were really interested in saving the Polar Bears, I'd contact Al Gore myself or at least pretend that turning off the lights when I leave a room is any help. No, no, I'm not giving you my personal info so that you can decide at some point to steal my identity, having determined that mugging for signatures on a street corner just doesn't pay as well as crime. I respect that you want a job and be useful at the same time. You do have other options. In other words, I don't want you to think that stripping isn't a job 'cause honey, that's your best bet when you see me coming.
Next time, I'm just going to tell you I'm for whatever you're trying to peddle. Global Warming? Who the hell wouldn't be for that? Brandi, sweety, have you ever been through a Russian winter? There are some people whom I'm sure would like the planet to heat up just a little fucking bit. So yeah, that's what I'm going to do. It'll be interesting to see how you react. Sorry I couldn't be of more assistance. Oh, but here are some kids with disposable income leaving Abercrombie & Fitch. I'm sure they're not up on the whole global warming thing. Smile and introdouche yourself to them. Me? I've got things to do. Look, there are some trees I can cut down…