Bugs And Weeds Are Living Things, Too

Pictured: Harold Hippie

My Earth Brethren, I have some news that you might not like to hear, so you may want to take an extra toke or two from your peace pipe of choice before continuing. In fact, I think that would be a pretty good idea for me to do, too, since this news is so shockingly disturbing that I'm going to be pretty freaked out by reading it, and I already know what it is. So hang on for a second.

No, I don't think...man, did you ever notice that Microsoft Word has, like, 90 colors in the background of it? You think...well, sure, Hendrix was good, but the question is, did he have access to super-powered drugs that the government gave him in order to create a super-soldier to kill everything in sight, but then the drugs backfired, because Hendrix was so cool, and then he used the abilities to rock on the guitar instead?

Oh, sorry, man. I must've zoned out there for a second (or a few hours, according to this computer clock, but who can trust technology these days?). What I was saying was, I've been noticing lately that some people in this world just don't have any respect for the Earth anymore. I'm not just talking about the obvious things like the acres of chopped-down trees and polluted water, or the pigs who are killed so people can parade around in their skins and drink their blood raw, or whatever it is they do at those non-vegan restaurants. I'm talking about the more secret things that you might not notice are being oppressed and heartlessly slaughtered. Things like insects. And weeds. Just because they're not pretty doesn't mean they shouldn't be protected, but the way some people act, you sure wouldn't know that.

What do I mean? I don't know, man, you got me. Oh, you mean, about the bugs. Well, I was riding my bike to the recycling center where I work (well, not really work, but hang around and talk to the guy about how cool it is that he recycles, which he responds to by making little noises and smoking large cigars), and suddenly a large horsefly landed on my face and began biting it very hard. I smiled through the pain, though, because I knew he was just being his normal safe as Mother Nature intended him, and so I just kept on riding as he drank as much of my blood as he needed. But after he was done and took off, I saw a huge, gas-guzzling compact car come roaring over the hill and hit him! As his bloody carcass flew off into the distance, I felt some seriously uncool anger flow over me, and before I knew it, I was losing control.

"Hey, hi," I said, riding alongside the car and knocking softly on the window. "Can you stop for a second, please?"

I was more animal than human, I know, but luckily something came out of my violence, as the woman stopped her Pollution Mobile and came outside.

"Are you okay? Did I hit you?" she said.

"No, but you hit something much more important: a horsefly," I said, bending down and having a late morning snack of some clovers and crab grass. "I just wanted to let you know so you could look for the body and return him to the Earth whenever you have the time."

"You pulled me over because I...because I hit a horsefly?" she repeated, probably because her ears were ringing from her Motor Engine roaring its pollution in her head.

"Yeah," I said. "Actually, I also wanted to tell you that your car is killing the planet, and filling my lungs with carbon trioxide nucleic acid. I mean, it's totally your choice to drive it, and I totally support your choice, but I'm also incredibly opposed to it."

"But my car is a hybrid," she said as I climbed back on my bike to ride away. "It barely emits any pollution at all! And even purely gasoline-powered cars are subject to strict emissions testing in most states!"

"I think I know where I heard that before," I said over my shoulder as I rode away. "Oh, right: The Man told it to me!"

At that point, my memory gets a little hazy, because I must've run into an oncoming car and separated from my soul for a little while. When I returned to my body, I was in some kind of ambulance vehicle, and was therefore taking part in polluting the Earth. Luckily, I had enough strength to overpower the attendants by waving my feet in their general directions and rolling out the back of the van. But what I didn't forget was the woman, and her hatred for weeds. And weed, too, as in, mariijuana, that I currently am smoking in order to...you know, help the bugs. They just don't get enough respect.

Hey, did I tell you about this woman today, who was hitting bugs?

Harold Hippie is a Steward Of The Earth living in California. He respects your choice of being a terrible person who is ruining everything.

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