Stopped in traffic recently I noticed a bumper sticker that read “Can’t eat coal, can’t drink gas” which got me thinking; “what the hell does that person think a car actually is”? Clearly, in their world a motor vehicle is some sort of magic-mobile that glides over highways on the scent of bunnies and free flying bluebirds alone. Worst of all, the car wasn’t a car; it was a Kombi. Yes, sucking petrol faster than my grandmother sucks sherry, and spewing exhaust from under the trademark peace sign badge. I will never understand how a vehicle such as, is associated with the tree loving hippie; you can practically watch trees choke to death and die as it drives passed, yeah, peace man.
What particularly sparked my recent rage towards the dreadlocked, tree huggy type was a yoga class. Before you get to wondering, who is this nature hating, carbon witch? You should know that I actually don’t hate the world; I just study it. I started earth and environmental science in my second year of uni, out of a genuine interest in environmental resources, sustainability and physics. This led me to studying the surprisingly super interesting field of mining geology; which is where the yogi bears come in. During the class, which I thought I was being pretty adventurous in taking (well, I learnt from that mistake..) I was casually engaging in minor chit chat, when I was asked about my studies. But the conversation ended abruptly; as no sooner did the word “mining” come out of my mouth, did the entire room darken, and the queen yogi’s aura went from purple to a coal dripping shade of black. The “Save the Planet” plastered walls started caving in and I spent the rest of the lesson saluting the sun in solidarity.
I was enraged for a number of reasons; firstly, because that class was supposed to be my 20 bucks worth of weekly Zen, but mostly because if they had of bothered listening to the rest of my sentence, instead of voicing their highly fashionable opinions on coal seam gas and “windmill power”, they might have heard the words “sustainability”, “conservation” and “eco management”. Then we all could have been sipping our organic tea in harmony. But ignorance is obviously bliss because they continued their routine in the comfort of their electrically lit sub-leased room, in front of a gigantic gas heater. SILLY HIPPIES. I bet you thought a happy cuddly bear farted to produce that gas?! Yeah, I’m talking to you, old guy in the back; we all know the bears aren’t the only ones loosing gas during those classes…
Now I understand that people get passionate about their causes and that’s great; we all have a vegan friend, you know, the one everyone knows is vegan because they never shut up about it, and I’m totally accepting of that, power to you! But when you start telling me how offensive my carnivorous ways are, or that my moisturiser was tested on bunnies with really, really sore eyes, you wanna hope your tampon is fashioned out of organic, unbleached seaweed.
My point is, you can’t have it both ways; you can’t claim carbonless superiority over me because my solar panels aren’t organic if your eggs aren’t free range. Being environmentally conscious and responsible is more important today than it ever has been, but it’s also trendier than ever; you can’t jump on a parenting blog without having hand woven cloth nappies, amber necklaces or quinoa sold to you in bulk at a 300% price hike; and we’re back in the yoga class, paying 20 bucks an hour to be lectured by a bunch of kombi driving methane emitters.
Well I won’t be in it! I’m keeping my twenty dollars this week aura lady and putting it towards something else! It might be organic, it might not be. Either way, it’s not your business if I forgot my “green bags”, they are an extra dollar each at the checkout and I buy allot of groceries so you’ll just have to hope I remember them next week! Until then, I hope the rise in petrol costs don’t stop you driving your shaggin’ wagon. Maybe you should ask my vegan friend about her Prius?