Toronto’s Misguided Recycling Scheme
I walked up the lane, stepped into the lane because the recycling bin blcked the sidewalk, and wondered why the bin was (a) still there and (b) still full.
Some well-meaning soul, their garbage bin having been stolen or treated as garbage, has converted their recycling bin into a garbage bin by pasting a sticker on the bin.
That doesn’t meet the standards of Toronto City Council’s Recycling inspectors.
It is a Blue Bib, d’ye see? And by definition, all blue bins are recycling bins, and are bins for recyclables only, and since this blue bin contains garbage (“material that cannot be recycled”) it won’t be emptied.
It’s all in the name, d’ye see?
Riddle: If we call a tail a leg, how many legs does a dog have?
Answer: Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it a leg.
Bottom line is “Recycle”; it is the bottom line of a three-line mantra that goes:-
Recycling is the last thing we should be doing.
We ought instead all to use (consume) less, and before throwing anything away from us, we should find a Second Use for it.
Recycling bad. Reducing Good!
I visited a local play-reading group for four weeks. A friendly bunch with a sense of humour, but reading plays is “not my thing”. I found the practice unattractive in High School, and you will find a complete set of Shakespeare’s plays on my bookshelf any time you drop by. You will never find a volume on my bedside table.
So, off to the Play Reading Group. A dozen of us sat around a table in the library and took turns reading out the parts as we worked our way, page by page, through the play. We finished a play partway through the evening, so the old play copies were collected and the new play copies were distributed, parts were assigned, and away we went.
I spoke with the coordinator and asked about the purpose of the group. Were they leading towards the production of a play? No. Did they discuss the environment or content of a play? No. They just – read the play out loud, and then moved on to the next one.
I explained that after I’d done my four weeks trial I’d move on too, although I know that I am welcome to drop in any time I feel like it. They are a friendly bunch with a sense of humour.
It set me to thinking about plays.
Before we were literate and read books, if we wanted to hear a good story we went and sat at the hearth of the village story-teller and begged him or her to tell us all about Jack and the Beanstalk, again. The story-teller waved arms to emphasize a point, and adopted different voices.
The next step would have been to have a small group of story-tellers, one person for each person/voice in the story. That is called a play.
Writing a play, as we know it, is really writing down instructions for re-telling a story (Now Chris speaks and he says “blah-blah-blah ...”)
But if I can read, and if the story is printed in a book, and especially if the author is top-notch, then why would I go to a performance of a play of the story? Why would I read through the disjointed format of a play? I just pick up John Grisham’s latest novel and enjoy the story myself.