Monday, 1 July 2019

Honda Prelude philosophises -


From the diary of a 360 year old reformed Tibestian vampire (with a poor memory, apparently. Sometimes its 350 years; it was 360 years ... for several years ...).

I returned from the shop with a very sore mouth - that's what comes of having to bite your tongue for ten minutes ...

 A child (that's how most people appear at my age) treated me to a lengthy speech (uninvited) about his new car. Apparently he uses it every day to take approximately 6 grams of plastic (derived from crude oil) from his rubbish to the tip so that it doesn't find its way into the ocean.

I tried to explain that our local council doesn't do any landfill - all such waste is incinerated at high temperature - so about 22 grams of CO2 would be released from his daily plastic.

The child drives about 10 miles daily on this mission, that's about 500 grams a day of diesel; maybe 1,000 grams of CO2 (diesel = C10H20 or thereabouts).

Child never listens, apparently being blessed with superior understanding to everyone about ... everything. Sigh.

I asked about his 'car', and wished I hadn't: It's the notorious Gruntmobile©. And I looked up the data of its production when I came home.

35 tonnes of CO2 to mine, process, recycle and build his "top of the range" produced by TonkaToy© corporation. That's before the 'car' is even switched on.

By coincidence, that's exactly the carbon footprint of my neighbour's large, well insulated house heating bill - for 70 years.

Despite being nearly 80, she still apologises for using coal (well, anthracite) because she can't carry the locally sourced sustainable firewood logs anymore.

I've offered to help, but she is very independent. I've seen so many octogenarians that ARE independent that it's tempting to believe that independence and being somewhat busy every day is a key predictor of healthy longevity.

___

Honda Prelude astral travel
Honda Prelude astral travelling

This was supposed to be a brief introduction - the real story being the memories it provoked of my favourite Tibetan hermit-philosopher Honda Prelude ...

Honda Prelude wasn't particularly bright at school, and certainly very quiet. The reason being, she was an exceptional listener and similarly blessed with the rare ability to see what was right in front of her eyes. If you think this is a commonplace or 'normal' attribute, spend some time in the pub and note what people believe to be true ...


As life progressed, Honda Prelude received the sort of advice that is generally 'given' to youngsters: grow tons of food, sell it, make lots of money ... make lots of carpets, sell them, make lots of money ... and so forth. Her eyes were open, likewise her mind, heart and ears.




Honda Prelude hermit philosopher
Honda Prelude hermit philosopher

Those imparting such unsolicited advice (see paragraph 1) all appeared to be working their way, most diligently, towards a billion dollar ulcer, heart attack and various veins (too much standing still).

So Honda devised plan B:

Like the song - 'all I need is a room somewhere', preferably with a small garden. The crops she'd seen, designed to make the landowners millionaires, often were too much to manage, so she'd grow only one of each of her favourite fruit bushes, and keep 3 hens.

Making and mending was much more fulfilling than shopping, so she'd need very little money and plenty of time.

Like everyone, she forgot her own plans and got drawn into stressful ventures. Unlike (nearly) everyone she rejoiced at her clangers - "Yippee, now I'm a bit wiser," she'd sing. The senior hen regarded her with one eye ...

The point of this memory? Honda lived (and possibly still does) to a great age, consuming 1 strawberry, 3 blackcurrants and an apple each day (from her freezer) along with her simple staples from the shop, and has excellent health. Because she only has one of each bush, she looks after them well, and the fruit are excellent and large.

 Some say - it ent the fruit wot makes er elfy, it's her state of mind.

Well ... if it works, don't knock it.





Tags: vampires, TibestianUndead, fiction, short satire stories, climate change, funny, longevity


4 comments :

  1. Your satire is right on the mark. Sadly, most people today wouldn't understand that it is satire...or even know what satire is until they googled it. :/

    ReplyDelete
  2. A type of seat, maybe ...

    ReplyDelete
  3. A car seat? Do 'they' make cars out of irony?

    ReplyDelete
  4. The Seat Satire, 6 wheel drive - very popular in Trumpilvania

    ReplyDelete

comments welcome; spam is deleted :)