Swirling Trash Vortex Twice the Size of Texas

I'm sure you know about this. Apparently everybody already knew? My sister said it was even on Ellen the other day.

I, however, was unaware of it until someone mentioned it in passing on NPR. That's not to say that I'm, like, not into Ellen, because I am. I love Ellen. It just so happens I missed that day's episode (this whole thing here, this whole Ellen vs NPR thing I'm doing, it's caused by a compulsion I have; I must be absolutely honest 100% of the time. This compulsion is due to some teenage trauma and sundry other experiences, and it can be detrimental to my writing at times, but I just can't not do it), but I heard some dude on NPR saying "there is a swirling trash vortex twice the size of Texas in the Pacific Ocean oh my god."As if one could say that in passing.

Because, like, no one is really talking about this? Or if they are, they aren't talking to me. When I mention it to people, usually one in three will know what I'm talking about. The other two go like "No way. Really? No way." And I'm all like "Yeah, uh huh," and then I convince them with my powerful rhetorical skillz.

Or not. But either way, I feel like this swirling trash vortex is a perfect metaphor for, like, so many things.

And I also feel like it's cheap, you know? Like it's cheap to make the swirling trash vortex a metaphor. Because, come on, it's already so big. Does it really also need to be a metaphor?

But yes, why not, sure it does. It does need to be a metaphor. A metaphor for, like, all the things we are unaware of. All the poison and trash and utter nonsense that we condone without realizing it.

As a teacher I want to help instill in my students an ownership of the swirling trash vortex. I don't want them to think of it as something outside of themselves. Because, and this is me being so honest I can barely stand myself, the trash vortex is us, right? I mean, it is.

And that's really the metaphor. Whether or not you add the imagery of water swirling down the drain or not.

We, and I mean we as in humanity here, we have a problem. And really, not only do we have a problem, we are the problem.

I'm trying to get a job now. Things like this, things like the swirling trash vortex twice the size of Texas, things like this kind of sidetrack me, at least a little. Things like this make me wonder about how much of what I consume is composed of plastic. How much of me is actually, at this point, totally plastic.

And partly this, like, makes me want to inform the next generation, and it partly makes me want to hide underneath my bed for the rest of my life (plastic Armageddon can't get me there, right?). Because learning about a swirling trash vortex twice the size of Texas is more than a little intimidating. It's more than a little sad and awful and horrific. It's in point of fact absolutely ugly.

And it makes me question my desire to educate. Because learning about this makes me feel so small and impotent.

Although perhaps that's a very good lesson for the kids to learn.