Save the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus
I'm too much of a conserver. Or at least I'd like to think so. See, I do my bit. I just snapped off switches of two tube lights in the dining/living room when I went downstairs to drink water. Amma is the exact opposite. She needs everything brightly lit. (It's the royal gene. Yes, she says she has one. Don't ask me who the royal ancestor was - I don't know and don't care. It was probably some feudal landlord she plays up anyway. Ask closely, and poof, I will be reduced to normality. We don't want that, do we? We need to tell our grandchildren they had a royal ancestor and insist on crazy things citing the royalness in our blood in our own dotage. So we'll let vague royal ancestors exist without close questioning.)
Now, I don't understand what the need for two tube lights is in the middle of the day in a place that is open... where there are windows and light flows in quite naturally. My house has an open floor plan. Ok, I don't know what that means, but just that my neighbour can see into my bathroom from his terrace if he is perverted enough. Actually, peeking into females' bathrooms isn't even a true blue perversion, is it? He just needs to be male. Surely everybody does it, if they have the chance. So will he. (But don't worry, he won't. First, because the house is rented to a day-school and the roof is off limits to everyone, and secondly, because there's no male neighbour living in that house, but maybe I should fix the broken pane in the window anyway... just in case...)
But we were talking about my conservationistic behaviour. Coming back to that, I'm all for conserving water and all too - close taps while brushing, etc. Let's not get into this too deep because I like water too much and will stand under the shower too long at times just to feel the water running down my body. I'm pretty sensual like that. *ahem*
Yes, well, okay. Let's get on. I wonder if the day will ever come when shopkeepers in India will stock paper bags instead of plastic ones. The only things one gets in paper bags now are unmentionables from Navrang in Abids, you know, that shop in the lane before Hollywood, the ones who sell... well... unmentionables? Well, okay, intimate apparel. (That definitely sounds better than bras and panties. Please, guys who are reading this, do not disagree. This post is embarassing enough as it is.) (While writing this, just now, I couldn't remember the name of the shop, and I texted my friend to ask, and then called my mother when friend didn't reply immediately. Now I have a curious friend and mother who are wondering why I wanted the name of a shop that sells lingerie while I was on the computer. Seeing as how they don't know about the existence of my blog, it was tricky explaining to them why I needed it. With mom, I just giggled and said I needed it. And to friend, I said I am writing something and it led to all sorts of questioning. I'm sure they're thinking I'm into something perverted or illicit online. My image is tarnished forever. Forever.)
So, to continue, lingerie shops have paper bags only because what they sell is so shameful that seeing a woman, or *gasp* a man, holding a plastic bag advertising their shop and product would be an immediate cause for averting eyes and ignoring said person. Oh, and paper bags are also for other unmentionables. Like sanitary napkins. Though lately my friendly neighbourhood kirana shop owner has decided to give out those in plain black plastic bags that get black ink on your fingers if you touch them. The Earth is surely going to choke and die one of these days. The black ink will be to blame. Mark my words.
I am not fanatically opposed to plastic bags, sometimes they're necessary when nothing else is available, and you can't just swear off them. It's just that they should be done away with when they can be. I remember this incident where I bought something small, I think it was a chocolate bar, and the shopkeeper offered me a plastic bag and I said no, because I could carry it. And he snatched the thing out of my hands, good-naturedly, and bagged it before handing it to me. See, I understand when it is necessary, but when you're buying something you can carry in your hand without a bag, why use one? I simply took out my whatever-it-was and handed the bag back to him, not good-naturedly, and gave him a curt 'No, thank you,' only it was from between gritted teeth and maybe my expression was a teeny bit hostile because he recoiled. Well, maybe I was overly enthusiastic about throwing the bag back on his counter too. (I assure you I'm not generally rabid to shop-keepers this way. I am grouchy to only ones who disrespect my wishes to not have a plastic bag.)
So, in these situations, with the world going to rot and no one around me caring about it, I feel it is only my duty to switch off lights and insist on goi
ng bagless when I buy small things. So I do. Now, at this point, you're all wondering where the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus comes into it all. It doesn't really. I just hunted around for something to name the post, because Save the Whales is just too usual, (and done before) and out pops this site (click on the title of the post). That's it. My search has ended with the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus. A nicely mad touch, isn't it? Quite in keeping with this blog. I actually think I could adopt one tree octopus. Virtually, of course. Byclops has been here quite a while, hasn't he?
Anyway, the site is kind of interesting, and pretty to look at. I mean, most sites are pretty garish. This one isn't. And it's also weird. I quote, "Tree octopuses became prized by the fashion industry as ornamental decorations for hats...." I mean, what??! People go around with an octopus on their heads?? In the name of fashion? Really? Where? Anyway, readers, do visit and sign the petition. That's your bit in saving the pacific northwest tree octopus. Your good deed for the year.
Actually, when I reached the end of the page on the tree octopus site, I noticed other interesting animals I could have named my post after. Like the Mountain Walrus (?!) or the Manhattan Beach Mottled Roach ("Save one roach today, that tomorrow we may save millions!" Uh, excuse me, a roach? No, thank you. And when you save one now, tomorrow you don't need to save millions tomorrow. Millions do not need saving.) Or there's the Rock Nest Monster ("Known only from its rocky nests and porcelean-like eggs, Cryptogorgo petronidus is so endangered that existential environmentalists wonder if it ever existed at all"), the Giant Palouse Earthworm ("They can grow up to three feet in length, are pinkish-white, and smell of lilies." Thank you for telling me about the lily-smell.) and the Red Crabs of Christmas Island (who, among the problems they face, also "have to contend with super-colonies of yellow crazy ants, introduced to the island by the thoughtless actions of Man.") So, go ahead. Take your pick. Save something. Anything. It hardly matters what with so many that need saving.
Now, I don't understand what the need for two tube lights is in the middle of the day in a place that is open... where there are windows and light flows in quite naturally. My house has an open floor plan. Ok, I don't know what that means, but just that my neighbour can see into my bathroom from his terrace if he is perverted enough. Actually, peeking into females' bathrooms isn't even a true blue perversion, is it? He just needs to be male. Surely everybody does it, if they have the chance. So will he. (But don't worry, he won't. First, because the house is rented to a day-school and the roof is off limits to everyone, and secondly, because there's no male neighbour living in that house, but maybe I should fix the broken pane in the window anyway... just in case...)
But we were talking about my conservationistic behaviour. Coming back to that, I'm all for conserving water and all too - close taps while brushing, etc. Let's not get into this too deep because I like water too much and will stand under the shower too long at times just to feel the water running down my body. I'm pretty sensual like that. *ahem*
Yes, well, okay. Let's get on. I wonder if the day will ever come when shopkeepers in India will stock paper bags instead of plastic ones. The only things one gets in paper bags now are unmentionables from Navrang in Abids, you know, that shop in the lane before Hollywood, the ones who sell... well... unmentionables? Well, okay, intimate apparel. (That definitely sounds better than bras and panties. Please, guys who are reading this, do not disagree. This post is embarassing enough as it is.) (While writing this, just now, I couldn't remember the name of the shop, and I texted my friend to ask, and then called my mother when friend didn't reply immediately. Now I have a curious friend and mother who are wondering why I wanted the name of a shop that sells lingerie while I was on the computer. Seeing as how they don't know about the existence of my blog, it was tricky explaining to them why I needed it. With mom, I just giggled and said I needed it. And to friend, I said I am writing something and it led to all sorts of questioning. I'm sure they're thinking I'm into something perverted or illicit online. My image is tarnished forever. Forever.)
So, to continue, lingerie shops have paper bags only because what they sell is so shameful that seeing a woman, or *gasp* a man, holding a plastic bag advertising their shop and product would be an immediate cause for averting eyes and ignoring said person. Oh, and paper bags are also for other unmentionables. Like sanitary napkins. Though lately my friendly neighbourhood kirana shop owner has decided to give out those in plain black plastic bags that get black ink on your fingers if you touch them. The Earth is surely going to choke and die one of these days. The black ink will be to blame. Mark my words.
I am not fanatically opposed to plastic bags, sometimes they're necessary when nothing else is available, and you can't just swear off them. It's just that they should be done away with when they can be. I remember this incident where I bought something small, I think it was a chocolate bar, and the shopkeeper offered me a plastic bag and I said no, because I could carry it. And he snatched the thing out of my hands, good-naturedly, and bagged it before handing it to me. See, I understand when it is necessary, but when you're buying something you can carry in your hand without a bag, why use one? I simply took out my whatever-it-was and handed the bag back to him, not good-naturedly, and gave him a curt 'No, thank you,' only it was from between gritted teeth and maybe my expression was a teeny bit hostile because he recoiled. Well, maybe I was overly enthusiastic about throwing the bag back on his counter too. (I assure you I'm not generally rabid to shop-keepers this way. I am grouchy to only ones who disrespect my wishes to not have a plastic bag.)
So, in these situations, with the world going to rot and no one around me caring about it, I feel it is only my duty to switch off lights and insist on goi
ng bagless when I buy small things. So I do. Now, at this point, you're all wondering where the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus comes into it all. It doesn't really. I just hunted around for something to name the post, because Save the Whales is just too usual, (and done before) and out pops this site (click on the title of the post). That's it. My search has ended with the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus. A nicely mad touch, isn't it? Quite in keeping with this blog. I actually think I could adopt one tree octopus. Virtually, of course. Byclops has been here quite a while, hasn't he?Anyway, the site is kind of interesting, and pretty to look at. I mean, most sites are pretty garish. This one isn't. And it's also weird. I quote, "Tree octopuses became prized by the fashion industry as ornamental decorations for hats...." I mean, what??! People go around with an octopus on their heads?? In the name of fashion? Really? Where? Anyway, readers, do visit and sign the petition. That's your bit in saving the pacific northwest tree octopus. Your good deed for the year.
Actually, when I reached the end of the page on the tree octopus site, I noticed other interesting animals I could have named my post after. Like the Mountain Walrus (?!) or the Manhattan Beach Mottled Roach ("Save one roach today, that tomorrow we may save millions!" Uh, excuse me, a roach? No, thank you. And when you save one now, tomorrow you don't need to save millions tomorrow. Millions do not need saving.) Or there's the Rock Nest Monster ("Known only from its rocky nests and porcelean-like eggs, Cryptogorgo petronidus is so endangered that existential environmentalists wonder if it ever existed at all"), the Giant Palouse Earthworm ("They can grow up to three feet in length, are pinkish-white, and smell of lilies." Thank you for telling me about the lily-smell.) and the Red Crabs of Christmas Island (who, among the problems they face, also "have to contend with super-colonies of yellow crazy ants, introduced to the island by the thoughtless actions of Man.") So, go ahead. Take your pick. Save something. Anything. It hardly matters what with so many that need saving.
posted by Aran at 7:37 PM
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