Garbage in the Oceans

7 04 2014

Found this neat little article about the plastic gyres in the ocean. Glad at least there is at least one positive that came out of the Malaysia Air disappearance.


22 04 2013

Similar to the informative and very cool Clean Bin Project, Trashed is a documentary about garbage — literally. Unlike the former, however, Trashed goes into depth about the many toxins and chemicals that kill, mutate, and harm both our species and the planet because of our glorious waste. Shot after shot of mountains of garbage, it’s truly a sad sight to see.

This is the kind of thing I want to avoid. This is partly why I try to live as close to Zero Waste as I possibly can. Yet, telling people about the dangers of this — any sort of social change, really — is so difficult. I can’t even convince my own mother to stop buying plastic-wrapped buns from the local Chinese bakery despite giving her alternatives, such as paper bags. Many people don’t realize just how harmful plastic is; they think it’s simply that it leaches chemicals over time, but it’s much more than that. Plastic in the ocean breaks down into smaller and smaller pieces, but it doesn’t really go away. It creates toxicity in the water. Sea animals also eat the plastic and absorb toxins. And of course, we eat these animals too.

I want to develop a workshop, similar to what SPEC does in their workshops, and present it to my family, then to friends, then to my community and neighbourhood. I want to change the world now.

There’s a part in the movie where one of the interviewees wistfully notes what a change it would be if the entire world cut down on their waste, if they resorted to properly disposing of it instead of sending it off to landfills or incinerators, how the toxins would go down, how much healthier people would be — and the cynic, and sadly, the realist in me thought, “There’s no way that could ever happen.”

But dammit, if I’m not gonna try.

Merry Christmas!

24 12 2012

Isn’t this festive?


13 01 2011

There is no title, no indication of when I wrote this, but judging by the inconsistent verb tenses and meh writing, probably in my creative writing group in high school.


“Next,” I thought to myself as I put the lid back on the garbage can.  I casucally strolled over a few feet away and lifted the next lid.  The stench of seemed to be a combination of eggs, cigarettes, and diapers greeted my smell receptors.  However, I was immune to the stench now; there was nothing I hadn’t smelled before.

If I sound like some kind of hobo, you’re wrong.  I prefer the term homeless person, a person simply without a home.  It was about 3:3 in the morning and yes, I was going through people’s garbage.  Well, actually, I enjoyed spending time around this certain house so much that I would consider it to be my “neighbor’s” house.  So far, the only items of any value were a half eaten banana, a pair of socks with small holes and of course, cans for refund.

So anyhoo, I was going through my usual garbage when I spotted something sparkling in the moonlight – or rather, streetlight.  I carefully shoved aside the piles of garbage and suddenly stopped.

It was a butcher’s knife.  And not just any butcher’s knife; it was covered in a red liquid and had a faint odor of copper.  Could it be blood?  Maybe?  Could it be ketchup or tomato sauce?  Maybe, but why would anyone cut ketchup?

I told myself I didn’t see anything and just continued on with my routine.