A message from a bleak and barren solarium

On days like this, I wish I were living at some future time period (say the year 2036), when we’ll all have had our fill of ‘natural’ and are ready to accept this basic truth: natural can be a nightmare.

I struggle with plants, outside and in, because the insect and beast is mightier than the Nina. Outside, all is ravaged by animals, inside, the sickening white flies are again attacking my passion flower and are greedily eyeing the rest. Since I live in 2004, I have to fight such avarice with concoctions that will eventually make botanists reel with laughter: natural soaps, fox urine, egg whites mixed with cayenne – I mean, come on, do people have success with any of this?

I’m about to walk my sticky plant outdoors, not because it’s dead already, but because I can’t stand to watch the vultures fly off the leaves, leaving sappy residue behind and mocking me and my natural remedies all the while.

My study is losing its greenery: it’s becoming naturally bare, naturally ugly in its purity and wholesomeness. I know, I know, I am protecting the environment. I‘m only saying that if we are about to revert again to synthetics and chemicals, let’s do it NOW, so that I can enjoy again the splendid things nature has to offer and not lose them all to species that Darwin may have scorned and labeled inferior, but I myself find tougher than the wimpy human being (me) who can’t deal with a dumb rabbit or a stupid fly.