I iz in UR moNkEYsPhEre killin UR d00dz!!!!!
Let’s try an example. Famous news talking guy Tim Russert tells a charming story in his book Big Russ and Me (the title referring to his on-and-off romance with actor Russell Crowe) about his father, who used to take half an hour to carefully box up any broken glass before taking it to the trash. Why? Because “the trash guy might cut his hands.”
That this was such an odd thing to do illustrates my monkey point. None of us spend time worrying too much about the garbage man’s welfare even though he performs a crucial role in not forcing us to live in a cave carved from a mountain of our own filth. We don’t usually consider his safety or comfort at all and if we do, it’s not in the same way we would worry over our best friend or wife or girlfriend or even our dog.
For instance, I live in a town heavy on little ordinances about what one can and cannot throw out in the trash (lawn clippings must be sealed in clear plastic, labelled, individually sterilized, named and stacked in alphabetical order according to species). Thus, if you listen to people around here speak on the subject of garbage you get nothing but snide comments and strategies to get around the petty rules (just dump the drain cleaner in a pickle jar! Those trash bastards will never know!)
There is almost no thought about what the drain acid or the Black Plague-infected rats in the garbage will do to the poor sanitation worker.
Humorous, yet insightful. Well worth the read, and certainly not a Pointless Waste of Time.