2008 Woodie Awards
The Leviathans
Kyle Stammerjohn
Issue date: 2/13/08 Section: Opinion
Miles out to sea, there grows a Leviathan. Feeding on civilization, the Leviathan assembles itself. It calls upon troops from all corners of the Earth.
Forgotten on land by their creators, they are used momentarily then discarded unceremoniously. They find themselves in bins, cans, and bushes, and along roadsides. The troops, whose polymer souls ache with rejection, are guided by the wind and water. Small battalions of bottles and grocery bag militia form on the fringes of our towns and cities; they gather in wetlands and in drainage pipes to fight on the front lines against us. The battle is fiercest where humans colonize en masse. Unbeknownst to most of us, the war rages every day. Few souls expose themselves to the hazards of this warfare to keep the scouts and newly born infantry away from the public. But we welcome their allies into our homes and jobs. The spies are disguised as useful tools and cherished toys. They see our every act, as they are involved in all aspects of our lives, all the while relaying intelligence to their disposable brethren.
There are as many as six Leviathan fleets forming in the oceans. They represent the different theaters in this battle. Each is developing at its own rate into a gargantuan swarming hive. We have been successful in our efforts to banish these malcontents from our daily lives, enough so that in fact that we allow ourselves to forget about these battles and to let our guard down. But today as we look back on the fray we see the chink [in the chain] that has been infiltrated.
We have been invaded. Nurdles have seeped into our lives and the influx is now unstoppable. The minute kamikazes have detached themselves from their Leviathans to embark on solo missions into our civilization by any means necessary. The pebble-sized soldiers target sea birds and turtles. But the real threat is from their little brothers. The sand-grain specialists are small enough to be eaten by plankton. This is our weak spot. Taking a cue from other human conceptions like DDT, they have learned to grab hold and wedge themselves inside the bodies of their predators. Bio-accumulation is an arduous strategy but it is one that generally goes unnoticed by man until we are engulfed. As the nurdles clog the intestines of marine life we go about our lives pursuing our dreams with plastic fork and bottle in hand. Cheerfully we buy that cup of chili in a plastic-coated paper bowl, or that mechanical pencil that we concede will probably break in the next few months. As surely as it is slow, the plastic march bears down upon us.
Forgotten on land by their creators, they are used momentarily then discarded unceremoniously. They find themselves in bins, cans, and bushes, and along roadsides. The troops, whose polymer souls ache with rejection, are guided by the wind and water. Small battalions of bottles and grocery bag militia form on the fringes of our towns and cities; they gather in wetlands and in drainage pipes to fight on the front lines against us. The battle is fiercest where humans colonize en masse. Unbeknownst to most of us, the war rages every day. Few souls expose themselves to the hazards of this warfare to keep the scouts and newly born infantry away from the public. But we welcome their allies into our homes and jobs. The spies are disguised as useful tools and cherished toys. They see our every act, as they are involved in all aspects of our lives, all the while relaying intelligence to their disposable brethren.
There are as many as six Leviathan fleets forming in the oceans. They represent the different theaters in this battle. Each is developing at its own rate into a gargantuan swarming hive. We have been successful in our efforts to banish these malcontents from our daily lives, enough so that in fact that we allow ourselves to forget about these battles and to let our guard down. But today as we look back on the fray we see the chink [in the chain] that has been infiltrated.
We have been invaded. Nurdles have seeped into our lives and the influx is now unstoppable. The minute kamikazes have detached themselves from their Leviathans to embark on solo missions into our civilization by any means necessary. The pebble-sized soldiers target sea birds and turtles. But the real threat is from their little brothers. The sand-grain specialists are small enough to be eaten by plankton. This is our weak spot. Taking a cue from other human conceptions like DDT, they have learned to grab hold and wedge themselves inside the bodies of their predators. Bio-accumulation is an arduous strategy but it is one that generally goes unnoticed by man until we are engulfed. As the nurdles clog the intestines of marine life we go about our lives pursuing our dreams with plastic fork and bottle in hand. Cheerfully we buy that cup of chili in a plastic-coated paper bowl, or that mechanical pencil that we concede will probably break in the next few months. As surely as it is slow, the plastic march bears down upon us.
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