I have an upcoming post wherein I regurgitate writing that particularly struck my fancy but this isn't that. A couple of months back I booked into the skin cancer clinic for a check and was reading an Australian Woman's Weekly while waiting. It really hasn't changed much, not having succumbed to the scuttlebut that sells more copies of New Idea and Woman's Day. Anyway, there was this article on Don Burke and he made an astounding claim that recycling was a waste of time. An assertion he repeated when interviewed on Enough Rope, so evidently one he feels passionate about. Now I don't dislike Don but he probably votes Liberal so I thought he might be doing a Harry Butler on us but now I discover there is substance to his claims. But I can't bring myself to start throwing everything I've been meticulously collecting for the recycle into the bin. This is just a cheery community service for those lazy bastards who couldn't be bothered. Now you don't have to feel guilty.
I've always been amused at how table tennis has two names: the formal name for those with sufficient skills to play competitively and ping pong for those who whack the ball all over the place.