“irukandji said . . . I am somewhat offended by the blatant waste of paper involved in handing out tracts. This isn't a purely anti-religion sentiment: I experience a similar irritation when someone tries to hand me a menu for a restaurant I'll never eat at or a shore I'll never shop at. Thursday is "ladies' night" at Big Joe's House o' Booze? The Tri-County Toyota dealer is having a year-end clearance sale? Jesus loves me and is going to condemn me to an eternity of torture? Awesome -- but leave the poor trees out of it.”
Trees are wonderfully useful. They give us paper for books, magazines, newspapers, and of course cardboard for cereal boxes. A pile of things are made of wood. There are wooden tables, wooden chairs, pencils, bed frames, book shelves, roller coasters, picture frames, Trojan horses, log cabins and white picket fences. Then there are trees. They are also made of wood.
I love watching lumberjacks cut them down, and then cut them up. Revving chain saws, or thumping axes, let the chips fall where they may. Yep, cut down the trees. I would even be pleased to see logging companies cut down all the rain forests and use the wood to build houses for the homeless. Wooden that be nice?
A question. What is the number one killer of drivers in the United States? It’s not alcohol. It’s not talking on cell phones. It’s not falling asleep at the wheel. You know what it is? It’s trees. Dumb old trees. If you drift off a highway and hit a tree, it doesn’t move. You do, into eternity.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Poor Trees
