I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t post often on here these days (I never did, really) but when I do it’s tending to come out all warm and fuzzy and suggestive that I have some sort of social conscience. I don’t. I’m rude, obnoxious and self-absorbed. I like nothing more than talking about football, heavy drinking, irresponsible drug ingestion and women’s bare breasts.
Any yet, occasionally, something blurts out that seems to point to a conscience, of sorts. Is this some sort of emotional breakdown or simply another symptom of senility???
My ‘sort of’ relative, Kate, (don’t ask … it’s complicated) is always banging on about flowers and cute animals and peace and happiness and incense sticks and meditation and how we should be nice to each other and all sorts of other crap. And whilst I blame most of this on her mother I can’t help but worry that it might be having an impact on me.
I find myself writing ‘nice’ things occasionally.
Sometimes even a bit sloppy.
A recent post of hers suggested that Mother Nature might be a bit pissed off with us. I don’t happen to agree. I don’t think Mother Nature could give a flying fuck about us. Mother Nature is perfectly happy to see us out. We’ll be gone soon enough and Mother Nature is unlikely to really notice. To her, we will come and go in the blink of an eye. If we render the planet uninhabitable for humans, she really couldn’t care. She’d be perfectly happy if Earth became an uninhabitable gaseous wasteland. She’s seen it all before.
It might come as a bit of a disappointment for our great grandchildren, though.
She’s an observer. She doesn’t intervene. We create the floods and the famine, not Mother Nature.
Anyway … I responded to Kate’s post in a sort of embarrassingly warm and fuzzy manner, and I repeat it, below.
I will be back on to inflammatory insults and gratuitous nudity in my next post.
Mother Nature doesn’t care
She’s barely noticed that we’re there
To her our presence will be brief
Our departure, a relief
She’s started packing up our toys
So much rubbish. So much noise
Mother Nature has no rules
(though some intolerance for fools)
And fools we are for our belief
That she will offer some relief
Many fools she’s seen before
To her we are just one fool more
So pack your bags. Arrange your stuff
Mother Nature’s had enough
She’s tired of us. She’s bored
We’ve taken what we can’t afford
She’s locked the gate. She’s slammed the door
Too late humans. There ain’t no more.