So there I was, pushing my gas-powered, pollution-belching blades of mowing death, when suddenly I found myself feeling guilty. No, it wasn’t because I had accidentally chopped up my wife’s flowers...again. It was because I realized that I was wasting precious resources and dumping all sorts of toxins into the atmosphere...and for what? Is it really worth raping of the planet just so that my family and I can walk around on the lawn without being harassed by snakes, ticks, and whatever other god-forsaken creatures live in the tall grass?
But that got me thinking (warning: this is usually a bad thing).
It seems we go out of our way an awful lot for the sake of the future. We torment ourselves, we browbeat others, and we spend far beyond our means all so that our unborn generations can have their futuristic utopias.
You know what...fuck that!
This is America, the land of Capitalism. You know what that means; it’s all about give and take. I give something and I expect to get something in return. Yet here I am, giving myself a guilt trip (and no doubt erasing several years off my life from the stress) with little or no expectation of a return investment. Sure, you could argue that my children’s’ children shall reap the benefits. That’s all fine and well for them, but I’m kinda stuck living in the here and now. I’m not so sure I care to work hard just so that some great great great grandchild can have a sense of entitlement.
So I’ve decided no more of that. Just like I don’t care to spoil my own children, I prefer to do the same for my future spawn. In short, they need to earn it. How so? Well, I’m a fair person. I don’t require a lot. Thus, I offer this deal for any descendents who happen to be reading this: I’ll do my part to keep this world pristine and, in return, I only ask for one thing...to be rebuilt as an indestructible cyborg. Simple, no? While this may be daunting right now, I’m sure it’s little more than a trip to the corner store for whatever future Gualtieris are looking at this on their holo-vids.
Just to keep it fair, I shall hold off on further environmental endeavors until such time as I get a message affirming the deal from whatever chrono-version of Fedex happens to still be around 1000 years from now. It’s ok, I’ll wait.
ps: If whatever descendents happen to be viewing this are doing so while mining spice and fighting off sand worms on a distant desert planet, the deal’s off. No offense, but you’re probably all boring dipshits and I’d rather stay dead.
ps ps: If a different future comes to pass, let me just say this now...Get your stinking hands off my corpse, you damn dirty apes!**
** Unless you’re planning on rebuilding me in that cyborg body I mentioned earlier.