From: "MT" <>
To: "Gary Gene Ford" <>,                                                    CHEMICAL
"George Paxinos" <>,                                                         COMPOUNDS
"Stephen Goodfellow" <>,
"Allan Safarik" <>,
"Jess Walls" <>
Cc: "Joe The Musician" <>,
"Mike K" <>,
"Gargantuan Genetically Ford-
like Being" <>               CARBON DIOXIDE ------ >
Date: Jul 2, 2008 3:00 PM

Subject: How I Learned To LOVE
    Carbon Dioxide and Die Happy

Maestro, Gargantuan Genetically Ford-like Being:

Perhaps you might consider cataloguing
pro-CO2, anti-GREEN elucidations, rants,
expository eruditions, polar bears, penguins and
other beneficial mass extinctions, along with
semi-related anti-nouveau-environmentalist pro
hot-house-earth (insects'll love it!) lectures
into convenient subject header categories like
lettered columns, (e.g. A, B, C...), then my
soggy hypothalamus and embattled 'puter,
which are oversaturated with references
to "CO2 and Greens," might then recover
enough taxonomic tranquillity one day
to not shudder with cold-sweat
adrenaline pumping horror at the mere
sight of "CO2" or "GREEN" in an email
message prompting immediate auto-
nomic pressure upon my mindgland's
delete key! (I'm pissing myself in
glorious PTSD Technicolor just at the
thought!) In any event...
 < ------ GREENS

< ---- METHANE

LOOPY Mind Gland!    

  ... For example, if I see: "One from Column A", or "Two from Column C" in an email subject header, then I'll know that: "Die Polar Bear! Die! DIE!! Suck Up the HEALING CO2, O Plants and Trees, before the EVIL, tenured GREEN$ get you my sweeties, ha! Ha! *cough* HA!" is probably the general thrust of the message, and I'll be able to better accommodate the whole gestalt in my ever diminishing capacity to cope with contemporary society in manageable bite-sized, uh, bytes.
Please note: this immature, whiny, selfish, sonuva 'bitch-of-an-obnoxious-suggestion' is offered with kind regard and down right hero worship, O Maestro of the Gargantuan Genetically Ford-like Being; as I wouldn't wish to crimp your style or impose any sort of limits on your glowing emanations before the nuclear fusion of your event horizon prematurely novas to the great sorrow of all sentient beings past, present, future, and 'other'...

... (not to mention the epic lucid dream ripples echoing
throughout space/time emanating from the extinct
Super Slugs of a bygone world that will noticeably
"warp and tweak" upon your untimely imploding nova!)
But forget all that for now. This is not what I am
writing to you about anyway. Nope. What I want to tell
you about is that, thanks to you, I am now hopelessly
in love with CO2! I am hot for CO2. Hot, I tell you!
HOT! I want to fuck CO2's brains out, then cuddle all
night long with candles burning bright HOT! HOT! CO2!
Never mind the build-up of lovely CO2 in the upper
atmosphere where photosynthesis is only a dim memory.
No! Let's bring it all down to terra firma, baby, and
emulate those great past successes encapsulated in such
noteworthy joys as Apollo 13's hilarious round tube
into square scrubber shenanigans, or, the madcap CO2
green-house-of-love tourist attraction, "Biosphere 2,"
in Phoenix [correction: Tucson] Arizona, to name but
a couple. And so, in like spirit of adventure,
I have devised, and already carried out,
a simple, wonderful experiment:

Sparing no expense, I managed to procure a shipping
container (so popular with life-giving CO2 generating
industrial societies for purposes of transporting
lead-painted goods, and illegal aliens seeking
better lives, to other benevolent CO2 generating
economies) into which I jam-packed: vegetable plants,
shrubs, trees, and moss, installed track lighting,
a Drager colorimetric gas detection tube used to
test the CO2 levels in the air, a urine-to-water
recycling gizmo port-a-potty, an autographed copy of
"CO2 IS Your Friend - Eat a Green!" by I.P. Freely,
and, finally, hermetically sealed myself inside the
container with a welding torch. My new home!

Trusting entirely in our enlightened Maestro of
Gargantuan Genetically Ford-like Being's fantastic,
revolutionary insight, that the CO2 I 'exhale' will be
absorbed by all the plants in the container, and
magically morphed into O2, oxygen, (an astounding,
earth shattering idea which no living GREEN could ever
conceive in their wildest inconvenient imaginations),
I then proceeded to live in the container! [And, in a
manner of speaking, am writing to you from within it.]
Settling in... hours... days(?)... Have lost track of
time... One day, sipping recycled piss, while reading
"CO2 IS Your Friend - Eat a Green!" by I.P. Freely,
I came across the following entry:
CO2 level - about 600ppm which
is typical of indoor air and is
an acceptable and safe level.

At 1% concentration of carbon dioxide
CO2 (10,000 parts per million or ppm)
and under continuous exposure at that
level, such as in an auditorium filled
with occupants and poor fresh air
ventilation, some occupants are likely
to feel drowsy.

The concentration of carbon dioxide
must be over about 2% (20,000 ppm)
before most people are aware of its
presence unless the odor of an
associated material (auto exhaust or
fermenting yeast, for instance) is
present at lower concentrations.

Above 2%, carbon dioxide may cause
a feeling of heaviness in the chest
and/or more frequent and
deeper respirations.

If exposure continues at that level
for several hours, minimal "acidosis"
(an acid condition of the blood) may
occur but more frequently is absent.

Breathing rate doubles at 3% CO2 and
is four times the normal rate at 5% CO2.

Toxic levels of carbon dioxide: at levels
above 5%, concentration CO2 is directly
toxic. [At lower levels we may be seeing
effects of a reduction in the relative
amount of oxygen rather than direct
toxicity of CO2.]

Symptoms of high or prolonged exposure
to carbon dioxide include headache,
increased heart rate, dizziness, fatigue,
rapid breathing, visual and hearing
dysfunctions. Exposure to higher levels
may cause unconsciousness or death within
minutes of exposure.
OK. Well... that was interesting... What's that...
gauge say? Can't reach it. Are those squirrels?!

Hmmm... as the pounding in head ...
began to distract from the pounding
in heart and... rapid breathing, could
hardly stand from weariness as with
blurry eyes... gazed at the lush, healthy
plants surrounding... realizing was
running out of time to save them from
darkening confines of baking hot container,
...silently... thanked them, apologized,
and died. I died.

Somehow, miraculously, a vestige of
awareness accessed a vibration which
relayed a bit of information via
screaming electron, or wavicle, or
incomprehensible photonic whatever,
intending this final communication
before the complete evaporation of
sense into the great mystery void.
With that, I bid you

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