You may have already seen this, but...
First of all-I'm not crazy. Second-maybe I am. Just a little bit. So maybe not quite crazy, but pretty fucking close. I drive a Mazda pick-up truck to predesignated popular corners of nature just so I say I smoked a cigarette at Niagara Falls, or at the foot of the largest tree in the world, or just out in the middle of fucking nowhere. I use nicotine to conquer nature. I'm pretty sure that's never been done before.
You are probably confused by now, but that is normal. I have told this story to countless normal people that do normal things in their normals lives. My lifestyle is quite different from their's, and quite possibly yours.
If my hobby were a guitar, it would sound out of tune to most people. My 'E' strings are tuned to a different frequency that are not familiar to them, and they can't figure out why. So they ask questions.
The best part about my hobby is defying of nature. The worst part is the guilt. I feel a sense of accomplishment when I puff my man-made cancer in the presence of majesty. I feel dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of life. Nature attacks on all sides-all senses. The sunrise snipes at my eyes while the sun's heat flanks my arms or the damp smell of rain charges my nostrils. To combat all of this, I blow smoke in the bitch's face. Don't get me wrong, I love the ocean, the Great Plains, and the Florida Keys-I just can't stand being less than. The guilt is tremendous, but I never focus on it. Instead I forge ahead through the marshes and deserts of America to find the perfect spot to give mother nature a little second-hand smoke.
To get to the next location I drive my light blue 88 Mazda pick-up. The paint is pealing, exposing the color of metal below, and there is a large off-white sunspot on the hood. The windshield is cracked in a spider web fashion from the last hail storm that ambushed me on my way to the Rocky Mountains. Rain of all sorts have rusted the bed beyond recognition and soaked the passenger side seat because the window no longer rolls up. But at least it has a good personality.
Despite the all it's flaws, I love my truck. When I press on the accelerator, it accelerates. When I turn the wheel, it changes lanes. What else do you need a vehicle to do? Anything more and you're just spoiling yourself. I don't need A/C or cruise control. Really, they just distract me from my mission. You can't fight nature if you can't feel it.
As human progress forges ahead and we invent new ways to invent new things, the line between natural and synthetic becomes blurred. Our food is no longer natural. It is genetically altered to grow faster and easier, but not to taste better or to prolong human life. Let me redraw the line for you. Anything, and I mean anything, that was here before humans started inventing shit is nature. Anything from the trees to the wind to static electricity. The laws of physics are a creation of man, but the phenomena they describe are nature. Science is the religion of western society. We use it to make sense of nature's daily miracles because we don't want to call them that. Science has made it possible for us to separate ourselves from nature and forget about it altogether. So to reconnect myself, I wrestle with the wind to get the cigarette lit, and I shield my eyes from the sun and get my ass wet from the ground as I puff away at the nature we have perverted.
You are probably confused by now, but that is normal. I have told this story to countless normal people that do normal things in their normals lives. My lifestyle is quite different from their's, and quite possibly yours.
If my hobby were a guitar, it would sound out of tune to most people. My 'E' strings are tuned to a different frequency that are not familiar to them, and they can't figure out why. So they ask questions.
The best part about my hobby is defying of nature. The worst part is the guilt. I feel a sense of accomplishment when I puff my man-made cancer in the presence of majesty. I feel dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of life. Nature attacks on all sides-all senses. The sunrise snipes at my eyes while the sun's heat flanks my arms or the damp smell of rain charges my nostrils. To combat all of this, I blow smoke in the bitch's face. Don't get me wrong, I love the ocean, the Great Plains, and the Florida Keys-I just can't stand being less than. The guilt is tremendous, but I never focus on it. Instead I forge ahead through the marshes and deserts of America to find the perfect spot to give mother nature a little second-hand smoke.
To get to the next location I drive my light blue 88 Mazda pick-up. The paint is pealing, exposing the color of metal below, and there is a large off-white sunspot on the hood. The windshield is cracked in a spider web fashion from the last hail storm that ambushed me on my way to the Rocky Mountains. Rain of all sorts have rusted the bed beyond recognition and soaked the passenger side seat because the window no longer rolls up. But at least it has a good personality.
Despite the all it's flaws, I love my truck. When I press on the accelerator, it accelerates. When I turn the wheel, it changes lanes. What else do you need a vehicle to do? Anything more and you're just spoiling yourself. I don't need A/C or cruise control. Really, they just distract me from my mission. You can't fight nature if you can't feel it.
As human progress forges ahead and we invent new ways to invent new things, the line between natural and synthetic becomes blurred. Our food is no longer natural. It is genetically altered to grow faster and easier, but not to taste better or to prolong human life. Let me redraw the line for you. Anything, and I mean anything, that was here before humans started inventing shit is nature. Anything from the trees to the wind to static electricity. The laws of physics are a creation of man, but the phenomena they describe are nature. Science is the religion of western society. We use it to make sense of nature's daily miracles because we don't want to call them that. Science has made it possible for us to separate ourselves from nature and forget about it altogether. So to reconnect myself, I wrestle with the wind to get the cigarette lit, and I shield my eyes from the sun and get my ass wet from the ground as I puff away at the nature we have perverted.