International Writers Magazine: New York Opinion
Back in the halcyon
eons of ages past illustrious nobility could achieve immortality by declaring
themselves to be descended from the celestial deities and having temples
and holy orders consecrated in their honor. Throughout the ages
kings and emperors embossed their likenesses upon grand erections like
the pyramids and the Taj Mahal to proclaim their passing through this
mortal coil, thereby reminding future generations of their eternal greatness.
NY City Council
members are spending thousands of dollars to buy new garbage cans
bearing their names NY Sun.
But nothing surpasses the modern age for scientific genius in mankinds
quest to achieve godhead through technological innovation like that truly
magnificent tribute to human civilization, the New York City Garbage Can.
In a truly heroic attempt to transcend the boundaries of mere human existence
and achieve the status of Olympian immortality, certain New York dignitaries
are consecrating important sums of money to having their names affixed
to that most ubiquitous of containers in the hope of increasing their
fame and enhancing their prestige, as well they should! It was only
a matter of time until we as a nation of high-class status seekers turned
our attention to designer garbage. What stylish New Yorker wants
to be seen depositing his dog waste or leftover fish heads in a greasy,
common trash receptacle? Are we not the Imperial Masters Of The
Universe? That is why branded garbage has finally emerged as the
centerpiece of our civilization.
The only people who up to now have appreciated the value of garbage have
been the Italians, who have jumped into it with both Gucci-clad feet.
The illustrious Italian composer Fettucine even wrote an opera called
Te Amo Come Una Spazzatura, about two garbage men who kill
each other over a collection route in Patterson NJ. But now, as
garbage becomes a vogue, everybody wants to get into the act.
As it stands right now the field of garbage promotion has largely been
confined to municipal political leaders, but the time is coming when celebrities
and philanthropists, faces beaming at the side of startling and breathtaking
new receptacles of every shape and description, will be repeating the
immortal words engraved on the Statue of Liberty, Send me
your trash, your stinking rubbish. And Americans of every
shape and description will rise to the occasion like a crusade.
Yes! they will shout, I want to deposit my used Kitty
Litter in Regis Philbins mouth!
Just as consumers proudly vaunt their iPhones and Jimmy Choo pumps, so
one day will they seek to establish their elevated level of discernment
by their choice of rubbish bins. I only throw my vacuum cleaner
bags in Donald Trump, and my chicken bones in Al Sharpton, will
they proudly announce?
But why should this mania for bonding and prestige be confined to the
area of household wastes? What about T urinals displaying the images
of other stalwarts of the National Republican Party, like Giuliani or
even George W. Bush himself? Just as the citizens of ancient Athens
used to elect their leaders by casting colored stones into a basket will
we someday vote for our elected officials by taking a leak in the urinal
of our choice! Cosmetics companies will vie for the top position
in the garbage sweepstakes by inventing fragrances with names like Saturday
Night Vomit and Stinky Red Sox.
But as the competitive pressure for larger and more grandiose monuments
has come to more and more consume the competitive nature of the great
leaders of history, so will our rulers strive to eclipse each other by
greater and greater displays of magnificence. No longer content
to adorn garbage cans, they will seek to project their fame from the sides
of garbage trucks and even East River barges transporting industrial waste
to sewage treatment facilities. For our richest, most prestigious
leaders even that display of vanity wont be enough, as they seek
to excel each other in displays of extravagence, until one day you will
able to take your family and spend the day smelling the garbage and admiring
the scurrying rats, roaches and flies as you stroll through Staten Islands
newly renovated Michael J. Bloomberg National Garbage Preserve!
© Dean Borok
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