Sometime between now and Monday morning I will haul the old bookshelf to the dump.
It’s made of particle board laminated with melamine aka Chinese milk, after those dairymen who mixed it with water and added it to the stuff that is pumped from contented cows into Chinese babies who died. The enterprising dairymen were executed by the benevolent state.
China is truly a busy place, which is why they need us to dredge our oil sands out of land that is good for no one but the people who have hunted its forests for thousands of years and fished its thousands of streams where herons stand patient as the pines that need to be ripped out of the way by grapple yarders and left to rot beside the rainbow hues of oil-slicked water that flows into those streams from the tread marks of the house-sized trucks that will join our far flung patchwork of provinces into one unified chain of leaky steel tubes, snaking over hills and dales, between parallel lines of chainlink fences, to carry the toxic sludge of primeval forests to Chinese tanker ships that will arrive at either end of this glorious Dominion, the true north that once was strong and free, that once was beautiful.
Doug Wilton, Nelson