Hurry up to get to the red light so you won't have to wait as long!

We're not feeling pain at the pump yet. Ours is a dreamland of waste and wallowing in our own crapulence. Behold, prices soar and the lines waiting to be pumped at the gas station grow. All junkies, 'cept the bums and destitute who can't afford cars, and the drunks who can't drive anymore...(they are free...)

Imagine for a moment, a people programmed to consume energy. Call them "Dinks". Dinks would live remotely from food... employment... school... commerce. They'd rely on the internal combustion engine to move from place to place. Think of a way to waste energy. Dinks do it. Watch lines of idling cars wait for food. Drive from parking lot to parking lot within walking distance. Treat pedestrians and bicyclists with contempt. Shop with the car idling. Drive as inefficiently as possible; Drive fast, accelerate quickly. Hurry up and get to the red light so you don't have to wait as long.

And why not? There are plenty of dealers willing to harvest Dink cash. (You might notice dealers want nuclear energy, so they don't themselves become junkies)

Driving is freedom, the only freedom many of the Dinks will ever know. It is a moment when one has control of direction in life, own a territory, inalienable rights, play the starring role with theme music blaring. Haven't you ever just gone for a ride? It's a lifestyle other nations seek to emulate. Wow...1.8 billion more Dinks. Supply will satisfy greater demand at higher price. "Yeah baby!" chant the dealers in an ancient tongue...

Freedom?

Pooping whenever, wherever might be freedom, but a plumbing professional knows it's not sanitary. Freedom is lost to disease and pestilence. Flies and other vermin. Not to mention the smell. Oh, the horror...the horror!

Freedom

There's a fish tank at a breakfast place I frequent, where suddenly my breakfast buddy pointed out one of the fish was taking a dump. I probably wouldn't have noticed, and perhaps he should have kept his trap shut. Time stopped for an instant and the earth shook as my mind's wheel began to rotate.

"Now that's freedom!" I exclaimed. It's so oppressive to be forced to control one's bodily functions. And for what? Appearances? It's not like the Queen of England doesn't squat to pinch a loaf. The pope may not shit in the woods all that often, but I'll bet he's clogged the Holy Crapper during his reign.

Perhaps the garden of eden was our being animals, and the apple (orange) of knowledge our evolution to society. Paradise was pooping whenever, fornicating like rabbits and not having the mental capacity for regret. There was no "politically correct, as a matter of fact, there was very little connecting action with consequence. No taxes! Now that's Freedom!