(Still technically doing two posts per week.)
I’ve mentioned in the past that I’m not exactly an “environmentalist”. I don’t recycle. I keep all of my appliances running at all times. I reengineer vehicles to be as fuel-inefficient as possible, sometimes with the owners’ consent. I still buy aerosol cans- I don’t even use them, I just walk out of the store wildly spraying them into the air, which has lead to a few minor difficulties regarding fumes. I am currently petitioning the government to construct a massive magnifying glass in non-geosynchronous orbit for the specific purpose of annihilating a local ant colony, and possibly southern
However, I haven’t really elaborated on the reasons for my seething hatred for every living thing on earth with the exception of some humans. That’s why I’d like to introduce the first entry in my seven billion and forty-two part series on the faults of biology, a series which I’m absolutely certain that I won’t completely forget about after this post. This week’s entry: Trees.
Now, trees might seem harmless to the layperson, but that’s exactly why he’s a layperson. You expect them to be stupid; it’s practically in the job description. No layperson has ever actually achieved anything; they just hang around waiting to be asked questions by people looking for generalized opinions. So obviously the layperson is misinformed. But, then again, what is exactly so threatening about trees? Well, shut up, hypothetical question, I’m going somewhere with this.
Ask yourself a question: where do you find trees? Exactly: forests. Go buy yourself a cookie (I don’t care if it’s six in the morning where you are. Somebody somewhere has a cookie, and you need to find it before you can honorably rejoin this discussion.) But think about it: why do they always appear in forests? Because there are already a lot of trees there. But what possible reason could they have for wanting to group up like that? After all, all trees do in forests is sit around and belch oxygen. If they wanted, they could go explore the world, see interesting sights, flood Isengard, etc. But no, they just sit around and become lumber. So why do they do it? Well, the answer is pretty obvious to anybody who looks at it after a few days of sleep deprivation.
They are massing for an attack.
It’s going to be a dark day when the trees finally begin their uprising. We’ll arm ourselves as best we can, but it’ll be a hard fight. The armed forces will seal off the cities, only allowing people in after a lengthy interrogation to prove that they aren’t a tree, a process which will involve placing the suspect in a cell with a man armed with a chainsaw and seeing if he reacts in fear (If he’s scared, he’s obviously a tree. But if he’s scared, he’s obviously human.) The trees will have allies, of curse. The shrubs will side with them, and we certainly haven’t won any points with grass over the years, what with the whole “lawn” situation. And your desk, your bookshelf, maybe even your wooden house? Zombies, all of them.
That is the reason why we must make a preemptive strike against the chlorophyll menace. The lumber industry is a good start, but we’ll need something more substantial. This is why I want all of you to contact your local government representative or possibly warlord, and tell them that you support the WFTA Anti-Tree Giant Robot Offensive Initiative.