I’ve reduced my plastic consumption over the past year, but damn, giving it up (almost) completely looks so effing complicated. Vintage safety razors? Olive oil lube? No more cottage cheese? Wow.
“It’s a poverty of the English language,” he says, “that we only have that one word, depression, that’s used to describe how a little kid feels when it rains on the day of his baseball game, and it’s also used to describe why people spend their lives in mental hospitals and end up killing themselves.”
Tonight I’m going to watch this while sewing my own cloth napkins in a singlehanded attempt to prevent the coming apocalypse.