The Day I Accidentally Rooted for Cholera: An Essay on Ethical Consumption

So, as I have decided to be editorially responsible, it’s Monday at like 5 a.m., and here I am, working towards my Tuesday deadline. That’s the rhythm I want to establish: Tuesdays and Fridays. So yeah, let’s do it.

And we had a lot of fun with the death penalty thing, I think. Because yes, what’s funnier than your government being able to decide that you need to go? It’s hilarious. So yes, yes, the humanitarians will probably be saying something like, “No, the death penalty is always wrong. Life is sacred.” And I say, like, yeah, the death penalty sucks. But you know what sucks even more? People.

So, as I say, it’s 5:13 in the morning, and it’s another fucking new week. So let’s try and fake optimism so we can avoid starting drinking before 12. Yeah? Because, as you know, drinking before 12 is a sign of alcoholism, and nobody wants that. Alcoholics rarely, if ever, get to drink because they end up going to AA meetings instead of going to parties. So don’t be an alcoholic, people. Be like me: a very fashionable drunk.

So someone in the comments suggested that I do a piece on how ethical consumption turned the death penalty into what it is today.

And I was like, “Why are you telling me what to do? You’re not my mother.” And all the trauma came out, and then I was like, “Oh, it’s a suggestion. The readers are engaging. This is engagement. This is the currency of the 21st century: engagement. I have engagement.”

I am a very, very, very, very, very, very, very low-level influencer. I have influence upon apparently one person. Congratulations. Everyone drinks all around.

Oh, fuck. It’s 5 a.m. No drinks. Give it back. Don’t look at me like that. It’s hard for both of us, okay?

So instead of drinking, let’s have breakfast. And that’s very interesting, because I walk into my kitchen and I say, hey, we are thinking about sustainable consumption. And I’m not a consumerist monster, nor am I a Jain who does no harm. But I’m somewhere in the middle.

Some things do make me feel guilty. Like, a lot of my food has wrappers and plastic that I will use for about a second and then will go into the oceans, so whatever is living after the mass extinction that is coming can say, “Damn you, Sisyphus. I hope you are enjoying hell, motherfucker.” And yes, it makes me feel guilty.

So I say, like, okay, nothing with a complicated wrapper. So let’s make a coffee that never caused any harm to the world, right? And obviously you can’t live on coffee, so maybe bread, eggs, cheese, and—what milk will you use for your coffee?

If you use almond milk, you are basically killing all the people who live in the beautiful state of California first. And nobody wants to do that. And also, who the fuck would ship a fucking crate of milk 5,000 kilometers? That’s stupid, right? But people do it every day. So my carbon footprint would go very, very much up if I use almond milk.

And I could use some kind of oat-derived milk, but one, I am not a fucking horse, and two, it’s fucking oats. Okay? I don’t like them; they don’t like me.

And yes, yes, you could use milk milk, like from a cow, and you could then be responsible for a mother losing her kid and being fondled by a robot in a very, very, very unsexy way. And that’s also not good.

So what? Black coffee? Okay, great, but cheese also comes from suffering. So that’s also out.

So fuck this. I’m not going to have any breakfast. I’m just gonna clean up my whiteboard because I have a meeting with my team later. So I’m gonna clean up my whiteboard, and fuck me, the isopropyl alcohol bottle is made of plastic. And the isopropyl alcohol is the result of a long industrial process, and the fucking rag I’m gonna use to wipe the fucking whiteboard is fucking polyester. It’s fucking plastic. So I’m gonna be releasing a lot of fucking microplastics for everyone to breathe. Congratulations.

So yeah, maybe I’m not cleaning the fucking whiteboard right now.

So instead, let me feed my dogs. And what’s that? My dogs’ food no longer comes in a very tough paper bag. No, it’s a fucking ton of plastic. And hey, dogs kinda need to eat meat, at least a bit. So fuck. This food is not suffering-free, right? It’s suffering-certified.

So why the fuck? What is sustainable at all?

So maybe, I don’t know. I know. I know. I finally know. I got it.

I’m gonna drink a glass of water.

And hey, I’m using a glass made from, God forgive me, glass. And hey, it’s perfect. It’s not like this water was treated with chemicals to kill a lot of the microbiome that used to live in it and sanitize it for my use. And it’s not like whatever water I spill from the glass will end up in the sewer.

And fuck.

So drinking water is out, but so is showering. Good luck to anyone standing downwind. I’m gonna smell like a wild animal the whole day. Congratulations, Mr. Sisyphus, you’re saving the planet one stink line at a time.

So what is this ethical consumption thing? How can you decide how to consume? Because there must be a way to consume without killing the planet, right?

Yeah, obviously.

It’s called not getting born.

And wait. Wait a second. Was I, like, taking a moral stand for cholera up there? Oh my God, that doesn’t sound ethical at all. But cholera is really good at consumption, if you get my drift. So yeah, maybe no. But okay, let’s not defend cholera here.

So I’m gonna go lie down in my bed and not move because I don’t want to cause any harm, and oh fuck, what are these sheets made of? Are they polyester? No. They are cotton. Thankfully, there is no historical horror related to cotton. Not at all, right? So yes, but it’s not like this was whitened and then spooled and whatever and made into fabric. And this is not ethical at all, right?

So where are we with the whole ethical consumption thing? Because we are alive, and if we are alive, we need to, well, live. And being that it’s forbidden by law to walk around naked, however impressive our naked selves are, and however much other people would enjoy it, we are forbidden to walk around naked, and we need to eat. We need a place to sleep. If we spend too much time in direct sunlight, we get burnt, and if we sleep outside naked, we will get a lot of unwanted attention first and pneumonia after.

And don’t even get me started on medical supplies. Have you seen how much plastic one simple medical emergency uses? You don’t want to get sick if you want to take care of the environment. So take your pills, and whatever your pills are, I hope the fish that get addicted to them from your urine at least enjoy it. And your vitamin pills and that plastic container they came in? Definitely not environmental poison, right?

And that’s the thing about ethical consumption. There is no level of consumption at which your impact becomes zero. You just have to try and do as little damage as you can, because you are here and you are probably valuable to all of us. Ernest Hemingway said it better: “No man is an island.” What? Hemingway? Plagiarism? Donne? Get out of here. Anyway, advocating for mass suicide is out of the question. That’s awful. Whatever you do, do not drink the Kool-Aid unless it’s me giving it to you. In that case, bottoms up! But we’re still a ways out of starting a cult, let alone a death cult, so chill.

And speaking of death, our friend Ms Pike—Christa Pike, the Tennessee death-row prisoner whose execution we talked about last time—was literally regurgitated by hell because of ethical consumption.

The state wanted her gone, but it wanted her gone in a clinical, clean, PR-safe way and… well, it was extremely well done: Tennessee tried to execute her, failed, and then had to send her to a hospital.

And hey, speaking of ethics, what’s more ethical than Big Pharma? These people, they are angels. Think about it. Think about all the pain they have taken from the world with their opioids. And what’s better than opioids? The fucking opioid crisis. Hell yeah!

Talk about industrial-sized murder, because that’s what we have here. And still, pharmaceutical companies refuse to sell drugs for executions because they don’t want their products associated with lethal injection. Which, morally, fair enough. Optically, though? Guys. Guys? You are playing the wrong fucking game.

Some of the biggest names in your industry helped give us the opioid crisis. People are dying every day because oxycodone and the other opioids were totally, definitely, absolutely not addictive. Blink, blink.

Except they were. And people died. A lot of them.

Wait, wait, I can see a slogan coming:

“Hydromorphone: it kills only good people.”

Hell yeah!

So now, when Tennessee comes asking for the drugs it wants to use in its supposedly humane little killing ritual, preferably without looking like fucking idiots in front of the whole world, suddenly everyone discovers ethics?

Really?

You will sell mountains of sweet, sweet, sweet, completely-not-heroin to the public, but Tennessee is where you draw the line?

No? Too much?

Very ethical of you guys. Congratulations.

But the thing about consumption—and, conversely, life and the death penalty—is that it’s about consequences. The death penalty has consequences, is a consequence, and it’s supposed to end in death. Having to call an ambulance after an execution is failing so hard that a new category must be created.

Am I saying we should go all in on the death penalty? No. But I do think it’s necessary sometimes, like when someone won’t stop asking you for pictures of your feet. Not happening, bro. You can see my naked soul in here, but that’s the limit.

But beyond that, the thing about perfectly ethical consumption is that there is no such thing. From the moment we were born, we went into diapers, and a tally started adding up all the things we have consumed in our lives.

So the only ethical thing we can do—because we got this life as kind of a gift, maybe not the best gift ever, like, thank you, next time I’ll take a PS5 instead of 75 years of suffering, but it’s the intention that counts—is reduce our impact.

I am not in favor of suicide. Like, ever. But we can drive less. We can eat a little less in every meal. We can burn less plastic, split that sweet heroin into four doses instead of three so you are actually pacing yourself with the environment, and do cocaine no more than twice a day so the Earth has time to regenerate all the horrible chemicals used to refine your sweet, sweet booger sugar. Peruvian marching powder? Madam White?

And if you are going to eat human meat, make sure it’s humanely sourced, like, from the death penalty. Oh hell, here is an idea: someone get Tennessee on the line!

And yeah, that’s it. Keep death in your mind in every action of your life.

You are going to eat? Think about death, because in our world it’s easier to die from overeating than it is to die from starvation—if you live in the West, at least.

And if you are going to drive, think about the greenhouse gases that will be emitted and will stay up there long, long after you and your car are gone.

And if you are going to drink, make sure you are drinking the absolute bottom-of-the-barrel, cheapest, ugliest, most terrible booze you can find, because—

What the fuck am I saying?

Strike that. Please. Don’t drink cheap booze. That’s where I draw the line, okay?

But really, we need to work as a society, and we need to be able to depend on each other as a society. Sometimes that means lending $20 to a friend, and sometimes it means lending some lethal drugs to a southern state so they don’t embarrass themselves. And we need to take care of the planet, so no smoking and no online shopping. Delete Temu and Shein today!

And we need to get to a point where ethical consumption is actually possible, so… maybe don’t shower or something?

So my invitation is: live a life filled with balance.

And if you live in Tennessee and you actually do opioids, first, I recommend you stop and get help. Second, I recommend you take a little bit of your dose of the day and ship it to the Tennessee Department of Correction.

Their slogan:

“We are often not correct.”

They need it more than you.

Peace.