Why God Created Anti-globalists

It came to pass that one day, God and Satan were once again discussing current affairs. This time around, God was the first to initiate complaints about the state of the universe. "You recall we agreed it would be good to create environmentalists," God said, "in order to turn them away from falsely blaming us for all their losses, grief, disasters, and catastrophes. I'm starting to regret that."

"Me too," Satan said. "With the rise in environmentalism, they've forgotten us both."

God laughed ruefully. "Now, they're actually worshipping the environment like it was a god," He said. But he noticed Satan wasn't joining whole-heartedly in the complaint.

"Look, I know you've got your problems, too," God said. "Your followers always had that 'being with nature' thing going, but you have a mess on your hands."

"Well, yes, I do," Satan admitted. "There's more Satanists these days, but most of 'em want to kiss tree bark and stuff like that. I really don't get the attention I ought to have."

"I can fix this," God said.

"Really?" Satan replied. Somewhat skeptically, recalling how creating environmentalists misfired so badly.

"Yeah," God said. "I'll create anti-globalists. People will blame losses, grief, disasters, and catastrophes on globalism, but I guarantee *nobody* will want to worship anti-globalists."

"I like it," said Satan. "Go for it." And so it came to pass.

Where CEOs Go

While patrolling the sunny South Pacific looking for food shipments to block, an activist at the wheel of the luxury yacht "Golden Sunfish" expires from cardiac insufficiency. In the same moment, he finds himself standing alone in an area marked 'Departures,' with doors labeled 1, 2 and 3. As the activist stands there wondering what is going on, a devil appears.

"This place is Hell," the devil says, "and here in our Departure Lounge, you may choose your own version of Hell. No loitering is permitted." Then the devil's cell phone rings and the devil walks away, chattering excitedly.

After the devil leaves the Departure Lounge, the curious activist looks behind door number one. He sees a bent, scarred version of himself frantically pulling weeds that sprout eternally and vigorously from an endless field of withering crops. He looks behind door number two, and sees a gaunt, sunburned version of himself standing in line waiting for food, and the line stretches to the horizon in both directions. He looks behind the last door, and sees a well-fed, sun-tanned version of himself standing on a stage, with corporate CEOs shouting slogans like, "Go Green!" and "Nothing is For Sale!" and begging him to take their money.

After the activist is done peeking behind the doors, the devil returns. "You have your choice of door number 1 or number 2," the devil says.

"But I want door number 3!" the activist cries.

"Sorry," replies the devil. "That's corporate CEO Hell."

Punch Line at the Bar

A regular guy walks into a bar. It looks like a friendly place, because there are three guys lined up in front of the beer taps swapping jokes. So he sits down, orders a beer from the bartender, and waits for a break in the laughter.

"Hey," says the regular guy, "did you hear the one about the environmentalist, the anti-globalist and the organic farmer who all flunked the class in biology?"

One of the other guys stands up. He's at least six feet tall and weighs near 220 lbs., and he says, "I'm an environmentalist. I can already tell what that joke could potentially result in, so if you don't like unintended consequences, you better not tell that joke."

The second other guy stands up. He is closer to six feet, two inches tall and weighs about 240 lbs. "I'm an anti-globalist," he says, "and if you tell that joke, I am going to represent people of every nation, everywhere in the world, with some totally non-violent direct action. Your pickup truck looks a lot like an SUV."

The third other guy stands up. He would be barely six feet, six inches tall in his bathroom slippers, but he's wearing boots, and he'd likely tip the scales at 280 lbs. if he was just wearing a hat. "I'm an organic farmer," he says. "A joke that starts like that can't hardly be natural," he adds, "and since we have zero tolerance for coexistence, I just might have to ask my buddies to do some 'genetic cleansing' around here, if you know what I mean."

"Don't worry," says the regular guy. "I won't finish the joke. And that way, I won't have to explain the punch line three times in a row, either."

Advanced Psychology

A professor of psychology was nearing the end of a seminar in advanced psychology and to challenge the students, he proposed a set of symptoms and asked the students to suggest a diagnosis.

"How would you diagnose a patient who walks back and forth screaming at the top of his lungs one minute, then sits in a chair writing morose essays predicting doom?"

Melissa raised her hand. "A manic depressive?" she suggested.

"Quite perceptive," the professor responded. "However, there are other symptoms as well. This patient has extreme distrust of others, suspecting that they have hidden motives or represent a conspiracy. He has a persistent fear of being deceived, and is argumentative and self-righteous. He compulsively seeks proof of deceptions, secret motivations and conspiracies, and interprets any contrary evidence to be a personal attack."

Daniel raised his hand. "Definitely a classical paranoid," he said.

"Also very good," the professor said. "However, there are further symptoms. The patient claims the ability to understand the needs of plants, animals, air and dirt, and says he speaks as their voices."

Patricia raised her hand. "Schzophrenia, absolutely," she announced. "Certainly there are manic and para..."

She was interrupted by Richard, who leaped from his chair and shouted, "This man should not be a patient and should be released immediately! You're all wrong! Can't you see? This seminar is nothing but corporate neoliberal propaganda! This man isn't ill, he's an environmentalist!"

Organic Fund-Raiser

Gaia's Organic Offerings (GOO) and Splendid Luscious Organic Provisions (SLOP) were fierce rivals for a major market share in the stupendously, amazingly, unbelievably fast-growing organic food industry. This was reflected in the fierce animosity between the CEOs of the two companies, Julius Jauch and Samuel Sterco, who never missed an opportunity to embarrass each other. The two were so evenly matched in cleverness and malice that after several public humiliations, and without consulting each other, they independently resolved it would be wisest to avoid ever being seen together. And that is what they did.

Following their own advice proved impossible, however, when they were both invited to a fund-raising event and press conference hosted by the Social Harmonizers Against McFood (SHAM). They had both been secretly funding the activist group for years, so each was surprised that the other had been involved, but both had to back their investment in food agitation.

During the press conference, the heads of GOO and SLOP sat at opposite ends of the speaker's table, each of them simultaneously hoping for the swiftest departure possible and seeking an opportunity to humiliate the other--or worse.

The opportunity arose when a reporter stood up and asked, "What would you say to people who claim that organic food is not as safe as conventional food, and that the extra expense isn't worth it?"

Julius Jauch immediately went into action. Holding a carrot aloft, he said, "This is an organic carrot, and Samuel Sterco will not only give me $50,000 for it, he will eat it as well."

Sterco immediately subdued his rush of panic in a way only CEOs can manage. He stood calmly, allowed a gleam into his eye, and pulled a stick of celery from his pocket. "This stick of organic celery is worth $50,000," he said. "What is more, Julius Jauch will not only accept it in exchange for his carrot, he will eat it right in front of all of you."

Whispers and expressions of amazement filled the auditorium as the two men traded the vegetables and returned to their respective chairs. The press conference continued while the men ate slowly and carefully and glanced suspiciously at each other.

Meanwhile, the Chief Scientific Advisor of SHAM slipped quietly from the stage and searched frantically for the head of the group's Public Outreach & Organizing Program. He found the man standing on the sidewalk in front of the building, puffing a rather rumpled-looking cigarette.

"Quick!" said the Chief Scientific Advisor. "We need an immediate press release! $100,000 in Organic Food Sold at SHAM Event!"

Farming For Idiots

One Saturday afternoon, a family of organic farmers went to the local farm store to get a few things for the next crop season. The father bought a new manure fork and a new pair of tall neoprene rubber boots for each member of the family. The mother bought a new hoe for each member of the family. The son dug into what he'd saved from his allowance and bought a cap with the Monsanto logo on its front.

His sister was outraged when she saw the cap, whacked him over the head, and said, "You little idiot! Go talk to your mother."

So off he went to his mother, still wearing his new cap. In fit of rage, she whacked him twice on the head. "You idiot!" she yelled when she saw the cap. "Don't you know that Monsanto stuff comes from laboratories and factories? Go talk to your dad."

Obediently, the boy went to his father, still wearing his new cap. His father promptly whacked him on the head three times. "You idiot!" he shouted. "If we bought that company's man-made, artificial stuff, our investment in hoes, manure forks and neoprene rubber boots would be wasted!"

Later that evening, at the supper table, the father turned to his son and said, "Son, I hope you learned something today."

"Yes, father, I have," the son replied. "The farm kids in school call us 'those organic idiots' and now I agree with them."

Pigs Fed Up

There was a farmer who had a herd of pigs. One day an activist came to the farm and asked the farmer: "What do you feed your pigs?"

"Well," said the farmer, "It's important to feed them what's been scientifically shown to be the best diet. They get a mixture of corn meal, soy meal, milled oats and vitamin supplements. Why do you ask?"

Well," the activist said, "I represent a coalition of the Society for Precious Animals and Conscientious Educational Dedicationalism and the Organization for Universal Tribulation (SPACED-OUT) and I think you don't feed them like you should, they shouldn't eat agricultural waste products." The activist went to the local newspaper, and the headline of the article was, "Pigs Force-Fed Waste Products."

Some days later, another person arrived and asked what the pigs ate. The farmer answered: "Well, I feed them very well. I give them salmon, caviar, shrimp and steak, with their choice of a salad buffet. Most of them prefer cheeseburgers and fries, though. Why do you ask?"

"Because I am from the United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization (FAO)," he said, "And I think it's wrong that you feed your pigs so indiscriminately when there are people dying with nothing to eat." So the FAO representative went to the New York Times and the headline of the article was, "Obesity Epidemic Strikes Pigs; Farmers Careless About Diet." Alongside the article was a picture of the farmer with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Two weeks later, another activist came to the farm and asked what the pigs ate. The hesitant farmer answered after a few moments. "Well, each day I give ten dollars to each pig so they can buy whatever they want," he said. The activist went back to the headquarters of the International Generous & Natural Organization of Righteous, Realistic & Rational Agriculture and Nutritional Targets (IGNORRRANT), which issued a press release: "Pigs Bribed in Science Fraud Scandal."

So the farmer turned the pigs loose to forage around the countryside for whatever they could find on their own.

The next day, yet another activist showed up on the farm and asked, "What do you feed your chickens?" A week later, on page eight of the local newspaper, an article appeared: "Poultry Advocate Vanishes, Pigs Implicated."

Describing Activism Simply

A grade school teacher was asking students what their parents did for a living. "Tim, you be first," he said. "What does your mother do all day?"

Tim stood up and proudly said, "She's a doctor."

"That's wonderful. How about you, Anne?"

Anne stood up, looked briefly at her feet, and said, "My father delivers pizza."

"Thank you, Anne," said the teacher. "What about your father, Billy?"

Billy bolted upright and announced, "My daddy cons people out of their money, destroys crops and breaks into laboratories."

The teacher was aghast and promptly changed the subject to geography. Later that day he called Billy's father on the phone, asking for a logical explanation of Billy's statement in class.

Billy's father said, "I'm an environmental activist. But how can I explain a thing like that to a seven-year-old?"

The Activist's Tombstone

An activist whose specialty was warning about the imminent extinction of the human race decided to make a dramatic statement by purchasing his tombstone in advance. So he went to a stonecutter, and after choosing the grandest monument available, the stonecutter asked him what inscription he would like on it.

The activist had already chosen his epitaph, and without hesitation, replied, "Here lies an honest man and an activist."

"Sorry, but I can't do that," replied the stonecutter. "In this state, it's against the law to bury two people in the same grave."

The activist thought for a moment. "How about," he asked, "'Here lies an honest activist'?"

"Very clever," the stonecutter said. "The law allows a man to keep lying after he's dead."