Dear EarthFirst Hippies,
In regards to your YouTube video involving a bunch of you jerks sitting around crying over a dead tree: I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re retards. Trees get cut down all the time, its ok; they grow back. It’s like crying and screaming over loosing an eyelash or clipping your fingernails. What I just watched was an embarrassment, not only to you but the whole of human kind. What would our ancestors think of you bawling over a dead tree? They were busy innovating and learning and using the environment to evolve themselves. If they came across a person mourning a tree they’d probably hit them on the head with a rock and steal their pelts to keep their offspring warm. You hippies are getting out of hand and you need to bring it down a notch.
There are a lot of things wrong with mourning a tree by writhing around like a maniac and shrieking like a bitch, but for brevity’s sake, let’s just list a few.
1. Trees are plants, they are technically “alive” but they are not sentient and do not feel pain or loss. Trees do not mourn other trees, they do not have tree funerals and little saplings don’t go to little tree orphanages when a mommy tree dies. They’re trees. I cannot stress this enough. I’m worried that you’ve confused trees with people and that needs to be addressed.
2. There are people dying in horrible and unfair ways in all corners of the world right now, RIGHT NOW, AS YOU READ THIS. While you were in the woods with your stinky hippy friends blubbering over a log people with kids and spouses and dreams and memories are being murdered in the streets. Those people are more important than a tree, I know it’s confusing but it’s true. People are conscious beings, they are self aware and that makes them more valuable than wood.
3. Hey guess what hippy? Unless you’re living naked in those woods eating berries and moss you’re responsible for the death of trees, lots of them. The house (or shed) you live in was made from dead trees, the paper you print your stupid fliers on was made from dead trees, there’s probably even some dead tree in the stinky patchouli pomade you use to form your filthy dreadlocks. I dunno, I’m just sayin’. The environment is here for our use, sure we’re greedy creatures and we don’t do a great job of cleaning up after ourselves or sharing, but in the grand scope we’re a pretty young species. We’re like toddlers compared to Crocodiles or insects, and crying about a dead tree is something a toddler would do, because toddlers are stupid. Do you see where I’m going with this?
4. Why are you stopping at trees? What about bushes, weeds, flowers? Why not vegetables? Do you whimper and cry over your organic, vegan salad or the granola I know you’re so fond of? Those veggies and grains were MURDERED so YOU could eat you selfish fuck! How dare you! Oh, and the little sprouts you’re sitting on in the video are probably gonna die cause the weight of your unwashed bodies destroyed their fragile root system. You can’t go anywhere without hurting some living creature, can you? You’d better off just hitting yourself on the head with a hammer until you die, preferably in the forest somewhere so your decomposing body will nourish the soil and make up for all the damage you did. It’s not like the planet can maintain itself without human’s help, it’s not as if ecosystems work autonomously and have for billions of years and have survived several ice ages, volcanic fallout, a global greenhouse event, meteor strikes, floods, droughts, earthquakes, mudslides, disease, parasites, and hot, hot lava.
So please, you gad damned hippies, please find a better use for your time and energy than sitting in a circle out in the woods weeping over a dead tree. If you’re not going to kill yourselves to free up your carbon footprint at least do something to help your fellow man. Feed and clothe the homeless, donate to a local shelter, clean up a neighborhood. People are above plants on the social hierarchy. The environment, and especially that dead tree, really doesn’t give a shit that you care about it.
Signed,
Reality
