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thelazyenvironmentalist · 5 years

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So Now I’m Back, From Outer Space

(Kidding, but I did go to The Kennedy Space Centre and I’m obsessed.)

I stopped writing this blog over a year ago. The last two posts here weren’t even originally written for this page, but were op-eds for the school paper that I’d written, once I’d returned to university to finish my undergrad. You see, I’d left school for two years -- largely as a result of being able to reckon with what it meant to study at an institution that cared so little for my future, and that of my fellow students.

(For a backstory you can control+F “Divestment” and skim any number of pieces I’d vomited forth whilst desperate/angry/disillusioned with the lack of action said institution was taking on climate change.)

There are a myriad of reasons (is this the correct way to use “myriad”?) why I stopped writing as “The Lazy Environmentalist”. Not least among them was that, for a while, I wasn’t sure if I should be speaking up at all -- even if it was just to an audience of a casual dozen. As douchey and self-righteous as it sounds (is) I refer to myself as a climate justice activist or organizer, and a couple years back, I realized I was showing up to climate justice spaces in a pretty shitty way. I figured because I wanted to be there that I should be there. I thought that because I wanted to speak up that I should speak up-- somehow not realizing that my being there meant that I was taking the place of someone else, or that in speaking up I was speaking over other voices. I needed to learn to be quiet. Not silent necessarily, not absent by any means, but simply more aware of my surroundings-- who was missing because I was taking their space, who wasn’t being heard, because I’m so fucking noisy.

In this way, it was good that I took a break from writing for a little while, because it helped me to see that sometimes (most of the time) my voice isn’t the one that needs to be heard-- especially when it comes to discussions regarding climate change and climate justice.

I also need to acknowledge that because this whole exercise is largely self-indulgent, when I stopped writing I was really just letting myself off the hook. This blog, like it says in that gross yellow font at the top of the page, exists so I can hold myself to account, and that still rings true. Did I pull out my laptop in a frenzy tonight because I’ve decided that I once again need to stuff my trash in a mason jar and make my mom feel bad for taking me to restaurants that send home leftovers in styrofoam? No-- behaving like that was pointless at best, and harmful otherwise. Me toting around my trash in an instagrammable jar does nothing to reduce the amount of plastic choking a baby Laysan Albatross, and my saint of a mother doesn’t need to carry the guilt of the lack of plastic materials regulation around on her shoulders simply because I don’t feel like finishing my zimarika at our favourite Greek restaurant.

No. When I say this blog exists to hold me to account I mean that the act of writing is one of the best things I can do when it comes to working against the forces driving climate change. Not because anyone reads this-- we’ve already established no one save my big sister (hey, Kayla) does-- but because its through writing that I force myself to sit with my thoughts and digest the literal constant deluge of terrible news about human-inflicted damage on the planet and all of its inhabitants. When I stopped writing I gave myself permission to be intellectually lazy (not cute, contrary to my chosen moniker). When I say I’ve been in a cognitive fog the last few years I’m not even being that obnoxiously hyperbolic-- I honestly feel like I’ve retreated into a world of podcasts and quickly skimmed news articles-- I’ve eschewed my own ideas and feelings because when things are as desperately, existentially terrifying as they are in the year of our lord (lol, there is no God) 2019, its easier to let someone else, someone smarter, tell you what to feel, what to worry about, and how to think. I think when I opened my laptop 21 minutes ago it was on a whim that maybe thats not what’s best for me anymore. I think if I want to devote my time, my brain, my heart to saving what I can of my home that I need to push myself to dig a little deeper into the recesses of the ole’ lobes (ew?) and try to figure out why I’m here, doing this fucking work in the first place, and also what I fucking mean when I say “this work”. “This work” sounds vague and self-aggrandizing and I’m in a time of my life where I think I need specifics and tangibilities.

Finally, I stopped writing as “The Lazy Environmentalist” because I wasn’t sure . if that’s who I was anymore. I’m definitely a fucking lazy individual-- even at this moment I’m lying in bed at a somewhat cramped and awkward angle because I can’t be bothered to shift myself into a seated position (lol @ the misfortune of my neck). However, I don’t like the idea of letting myself take the easy way out because I’ve accepted that I am fundamentally a lazy person. Is my aversion to accepting my habitual sluggishness perhaps rooted in questionable puritanical christian societal values? Like, ya probably. Does that mean that it’s a good thing to watch 6 hours of Criminal Minds and tell myself that its okay to buy that dress from Zara because there’s no such thing as ethical consumption under capitalism, so fuck it? No. Obviously. Criminal Minds is gross (though Reid is still hella cute) and fast fashion is terrible for both people and planet (so props to me for actually putting that dress back on the rack last week even though I didn’t look terrible in it and honestly I could use another shapeless sack in my wardrobe).

As for the “Environmentalist” part of “The Lazy Environmentalist”I also feel more than a little weird about that too. The term is fucking loaded, and carries a lot of terrible history with it. The environmental movement has and still does a really god-awful job of caring about people (despite people being animals - woah who’s really eschewing anthropocentrism now, Tim*?!) But for real, forgetting the fact that from the purely cold, calculating, strategic reality that we can’t save the planet unless we have more people on board with the concept, and that we can’t do that effectively if we don’t speak to those in marginalized communities (those always most at risk to climate catastrophe) environmentalism has been not only ineffective and alienating for a fuck-ton of people over the decades-- environmentalists have been intensely harmful to people -- there are still environmentalists who think the best use of our time is to devastate Northern Communities by rallying against the seal hunt, and pushing veganism in communities that it simply doesn’t make sense for from a cultural/historical/geographic standpoint. Old school preservationist environmentalism is based in super gross settler ideas of manifest destiny, and protecting an “untouched” wilderness, ignoring the fact that Inuit, Anishnaabe, Mi’kmaq, Tsleil-Waututh, Cree, and hundreds of other Indigenous Nations lived QUITE HARMONIOUSLY on this land for EONS (and still do) before we settlers got here, thought of ourselves as separate from the land, parcelled it up, sold it off, decided to ~protect~ a fraction because God said so or whatever, and generally started fucking shit up.

So yeah, the term Environmentalist kind of makes me feel uneasy, as it should, because it carries with it a history of violence-- a history that is still being perpetuated today.

That being said, the term environmentalist also makes me think of my Grandma (cute, right?) I don’t necessarily think she would have considered herself an environmentalist, but she was the single most compassionate, loving person I’ve ever known, and yes I idolize her and hold her to a standard that no one else will ever meet but that’s okay, because she was my Grandma and I’m supposed to think she was perfect and magic. I mention my Grandma (her name was Lecetta) because she’s who made my into a little lazy environmentalist. She took me on trips to see Manatee rehab centres in Florida, walks through the Carolinian forest near her house, and swimming in Lake Huron. On the days we were inside we watched PBS nature documentaries and read books about wildlife in North America and on Saturday mornings she’d sit with me as I sobbed during WWF infomercials in what I realize now was a pretty weird weekly self-flagellation ritual. What I’m trying to say with this bizarre tangent is that the term “environmentalist” still holds some pretty earnest intention for me, and I’m remiss to entirely abandon the roots of what compels me to defend our home.

So, circling back to what I’d initially tried to start saying with this post- I think I’m going to start writing here again. I think I’m going to see if this helps me be the sort of person I want to be: the still sometimes lazy, but still earnest environmentalist- trying to figure out what my place is- in the movement, in my community, on the planet, and simply within myself.

*There’s no one named Tim

#climate change #climateaction #climate crisis #climate justice

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mystupidoverwatchimagines · 7 years

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Puppies!

I do what I want. These are short fun little things of S/O asking their hero get a puppo. And cute shit ensues. Junkrat, 76, Reinhardt, Roadhog, Reaper (I don't need to stop, I don't have a problem). In any case enjoy!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN HOWEVER

My inbox doesn't accept requests as this is a side blog so asks aren't really open (THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME FIGURE IT OUT) however! My personal messages are always ALWAYS open. Please send any requests there!

Junkrat--

"Hey Jamie can we get a dog?"

° yes yes Yes YES

° You're a little surprised it was so easy but he is suddenly bouncing around your house in excitement.

° You were kind of kidding but things became much more serious when he wanted to do this IMMEDIATELY.

° You are able to lower his excitement from "LETS JUST GET 20 DOGS" down to "A'right 2 dogs".

° You both got to pick out one from the rescue shelter. You pick out a large pitbull, her face so cute with big brown eyes and soft black fur. She was just a baby, and you could tell when they pulled her out of the kennel to meet you both, she basically bounced up and down in excitement. She reminded you of Jamie a lot, especially when she suddenly jumped up into your arms and you had to catch her to keep her falling to the ground. You sighed as she licked your face but you were smiling happily. Yep. Just like Jamison.

° Jamie was much more picky. He knew what he wanted and none of the dogs really spoke to this until he saw a small dog, definitely chihuahua and something else. Fluffy white fur and big ears. The dog was older but Jamie looked at the dog's eyes and it took stood up on little legs and you could see that the little puppo had lost one of its front legs. Junkrat's eyes grow into dinner plates and he asked to see the dog excitedly. He held the little thing and it licked his face excitedly, a happy little dog as Junkrat smothered it with attention. The shelter volunteer looked at you behind Jamie's shoulder and you nodded and the volunteer and ran to get the paperwork all filled out.

° You both are 100% in love with these dogs. Junkrat informs you that he had always wanted a dog but with the radiation in the Outback, it was dangerous for you to keep pets because they may turn into rabid dingos. The pitbull likes to sleep with her large head rested on his knee while he works on bombs. He likes to call her Shovel Head. The little one loves to play, she just wants to play! You often throw a tiny little tennis ball around the house and watch as the tiny little fluff chases it around the house excitedly. And both sleep in their own special beds at the end of the bed, but they both sneak into the bed every night and sleep in between you guys.

Soldier 76--

"Hey Jack, we should get a dog. A guard dog to protect me when you're on missions."

° Oh yeah, you knew how to say something to get what you wanted. However he has started picking up on your tactics and said no at first.

° You are persistent though and ask him about it every day. Giving all the pros of having a dog in the house. A big dog, a Doberman or a Rottweiler. Something you can run with in the morning and not have to worry about people messing with you. A big ol' pupper. But he continued with his "No,no,no," before you finally came clean and said you wanted a dog because the house does get lonely when he is gone. This seemed to actually make him think about it before thats what he finishes with. "Just let me think about it."

° The next day he left early in the morning, giving you a kiss and stating he would be back soon, smiling as you nod against your pillow, humming at his kiss before you curled back into your pillow and was out like a light.

° Later that day, like early afternoon. Soldier comes home with flowers and cookies and a giant box. Like a cardboard box wrapped up in blue paper. You were for sure suspicious. However your flowers smell wonderful and the cookies smell even better and the box now has your full attention. He pushes you to the couch and set the box gently on the ground, as if something fragile was inside. You secretly worried you had made him feel bad with your confession about being lonely when he was gone but he gently pushed your shoulders which made you laugh and you opened the box. As you looked down, you covered you mouth as a gasp came out. Two tiny puppies were inside, one looked like it was a Doberman while the other looked like it was a Golden Lab. You felt the tears begin to flow and you turned and hugged Jack tightly, trying to pull yourself together for a second before you quickly looked back over at the puppies that began to whine and bark. You picked both of them up and began kissing all over their little faces.

° Next few days were "Jack look at their paws they're gonna be huge!" "Jack, look at their little noses, oh my god!" "Jack I love them so much!"

° 6 months go by and you're still so in love with these animals. 76 would come home from missions late at night, to find all three of you curled up on the couch, sleeping comfortably. It made his heart feel so perfectly content. He calls you and the dogs "His girls".

Reinhardt--

"Hey big man, I want a dog, what do you think?"

° YES DOG

° I WANT DOG TOO, MIENE ROSE.

° Huh, that went well.

° You decide on adopting a big dog. A big dog for the big man. When you go to the shelter, its like you're a mother being dragged around by you're very large child. He was so excited but you were too. You laughed as he pulled you around the shelter, from one kennel to another but suddenly the realization comes to his mind and he wants ALL the dogs he's liked so far. You have to explain that we can't care for 20 dogs, especially when he is on missions and its just you at the house. However...

° "I'm okay with THREE dogs. Just three."

° He had to think about it for a long time before he made his decision. A Bull Mastiff, a Irish Wolf Hound, and the tiniest little Pomeranian you have ever seen. The Pomeranian wasn't a surprise, he had seen the little thing and had stars in his eyes immediately. You waved at the volunteers who had helped you as you held the two large dogs on leashes and Reinhardt cradled the small dog in his large arms, nuzzling the small pup with a wide smile on his face, the pup looking thoroughly content at the love it was getting.

° You both loved the dogs, but they all seemed to flock to Reinhardt, which, you did admit, you were a little jealous of but it was hopelessly adorable to walk into the living room to see Reinhardt asleep in his large arm chair, all the dogs laying down on him and asleep as well. The Mastiff laid across his lap and the Wolf hound slept on top of his feet. And of course, the Pomeranian was curled up on the man's shoulder. You've taken a lot of pictures of this scene.

° However when Reinhardt was gone, the dogs did the same thing to you. Reinhardt has walked in on the same scene and immediately gushed over how cute you all were, except you were smaller so all the dogs fit on the chair with you.

Roadhog--

° You actually didn't have to ask Roadhog and you weren't planning on asking him anything pet related. However, on your way back home in the rain, you had found a stray in the street. Your face scrunched up as the dog came towards you cautiously and you knew in your heart you weren't going to leave the poor thing in the street, and in the rain? No. You wrapped the skinny little pup in your jacket and picked it up gently. It licked your face, seemingly in thanks. You sighed as you thought of a way to explain the animal to Roadhog.

° Roadhog looked at you and the dog as you walked through the door, soaking wet and shivering from the cold. He looked at the dog, his face clear of a mask, his eyebrow raised. "I just couldn't leave him out there Mako. Look at him," you stated as you moved your jacket away from the dog's face, it was grey, one brown eye and one white/blue eye. It looked like a mixed breed, big ears, long muzzle. You gently put the dog down and flopped down on the couch. Both of you watched the dog sniff around and look at everything.

° "I don't think he's feral, he came right up to me," you stated honestly as you both continued to watch the animal. "I'll try to find his home tomorrow," you stated and Roadhog nodded.

° Week 1 - Fleas. You and Roadhog are both scratching helplessly as the dog ran around your house. You had been trying to find the dog's owner when Roadhog picked you and the dog up and dumped all three of you in a flea bath. You sighed in relief as two large hands scratched your back.

° Week 2 - Worms. You both watched the dog rub its butt along the floor. You pinched the bridge of your nose tightly before you rose your phone and made a Vet appointment.

° Week 3 - Acceptance. Both of you watched this crazy dog run around the house. It had so much energy and you and Roadhog had zero energy to deal with him.

° "We could take him to the shelter, maybe they can adopt him out," you stated as the dog came up to your lap and began licking your face. You gave a couple of head scratches and he moved over to Mako's lap and licked the mask happily as well.

° "What if they put him down," Mako said shortly, as well as giving a couple of head pats to the dog before it moved between the two of you, curling up and falling asleep. You both sighed as you had finally realized that this was your dog.

° Week 4 - Love. You came home, yawning as you walked through the door and your dog quickly ran up to you and jumped in your arms. You chuckled gently, catching the dog and holding him to your chest as he licked at your face. The dog scrambles out of your grasp as a ball is thrown from the living room.

Reaper--

"Hey Gabe? Can we... GetadogIreallywantadogplease?."

° "What?" He chuckled, trying to understand what you had said.

° "Can we get a dog please," you stated very clearly.

° No.

°Well shit. He's not like 76 where he can be pestered to get what you want. You had to plan to get something. Which meant... Deliberately doing what you want and just shrug off his anger. You only do it once a month and this was important. I mean... It was a dog. Dogs are so important. You sneak off in the morning and go to the shelter and do whatever you want. You could have bought 10 puppies and whats the worst that could happen? He was gonna leave you? Thats okay. Its dogs.

° You sneak into the house but Gabriel was already awake and sitting on the couch. He looked up with a smile but it quickly turned into an angry face. You held a small black puppy in your arm, a bag filled with puppy supplies in your other arm. You smiled at him, and he crossed his arms as you set down the supplies on the floor and wondered over to him with slow steps. Noy only was it a doggo. It was a puppo. So small and tiny. You held the puppy up to Gabe's face and he lowered his eyes to look at the puppy you held up. It was so small. It looked like it had been a runt and had been abandoned. It was a jet black German Shepard, with honey brown eyes. It licked Gabe's scarred face and Gabe sighed weakly and you gently set the dog on his lap and he looked at you seriously.

° "You're get an ass-whooping later, you know that right?" He stated as his hand went to the dog's head and scratched it.

° "Ooh, you mean I get a puppy and a spanking? What a day," you stated with a teasing tone in your voice and he rolled his eyes.

° Gabe is THE dog mom. He grows very attached to the puppy. And one day you are surprised when he brought another dog home. And then another. Two large, all black dogs. 2 Rottweilers now ran around the house as well. These two were adopted and were supposed to be gifts for you but you knew it was only to feed his growing dog addiction. He takes them on runs and dresses them up for Halloween. He made Talon shirts for them, oh yes, say hello to the new mascots.

° You often find him on the couch buried under these 3 animals. While he loved all of them, the one you brought home is his favorite. She is the baby of the group and so small still. You and this dog are "His Baby Girls"

° Menawhile the Rotties are attached to your hip when you are home. The nap with you on the bed and often snuggle with you in the grass at the park while Gabe plays with the little on with a frisbee.

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