Dear Planet Earth,
As spokesperson on behalf of humanity, I apologize. Your symptoms were obvious for years, created from us scraping away your skin to sell its what lies beneath. Taking things away without replacing them goes against everything we were warned about in kindergarten.
You must understand that we do it with good purpose. The rich must get richer. So it is written. Our economic rules state that if you make lots of money, you must make more or get punished. Those poor rich folk must deal with this. Then we have the other rich people who depend on said richer person to amass more riches or they can dish out their punishment. Without this system, our world would crumble… by crumbling the world. Weird, eh?
But we do good from what we dig out. We create things. Lots of things. Things we don’t even need, until the advertisement convinces us elsewise. Done right, everyone must have the thing-of-the-hour, and nobody wants to be left out. It’s all part of our quest to be individuals; buying what everyone else got before us.
And I suppose we do put things back. Once the thing-of-the-hour becomes obsolete, it is deposited in designated areas far away from where we live, returning these products ceremoniously into the earth. It involves bulldozers. In a way, we are holding to our kindergarten promise, just differently. It’s like taking a kid’s toy, dismantling it for our own purposes, and returning the remaining parts back to said owner. Don’t worry, it’s all there, often with extras!
The fact that what we return doesn’t function the same is irrelevant. We’ve used what we need, and there’s always other useful stuff elsewhere under your surface. Some might be getting tougher to find, but we can always dig deeper. This may require displacing some of our own to get to it, but the great growth machine of the economy will find a place for them. Eventually.
But I’m writing you to demand an apology. You are hurting us. You once provided a climate where we were happy, yet now we burn, drown, or suffer radiation burns. We can’t survive these droughts and diseases, and clearly you must be to blame.
If you don’t treat us right, we may not be around long to use you. The terms of the contract are being ignored. Don’t make us move to Mars where, surely, we can survive just as well. We’d probably bring you to court if we considered you a living entity, so count yourself lucky.
Darrin LR Fiddler