Sometimes you laugh a laugh so intense that the trailing smile hurts your face. Sometimes you fly. Sometimes you fall. And sometimes, when you are least prepared for it, the world can seemingly fall apart all around you.

Strawberry growers now favor all-purpose fumigants such as methyl bromide. “You inject it into the soil and put a tarp over it,” says Monica Moore of the Pesticide Action Network of North America. “It kills everything from mammals to microbes. It???s a complete biocide.”

A complete biocide?! It kills everything?! And they put it on strawberries?! Under a tarp?! This story left me feeling all warm inside.

I’m glad we already take the organic route.

What is going to happen after another twenty-five years of continuously pumping poison (yeah, that’s what they call it, poison) into soil on large chunks of corporate farmland? Well, you’ll probably have to put some chemicals in it so something will grow and then put some heavier poison on it to kill the mutated things that grew immune the old poison. Welcome to agriculture in the twenty-first century. What the fuck?

Americans take one of the most fertile pieces of land on the planet and, for the sake of a quick buck, continually lets large conglomorates repeatedly rape and pillage it&#8212all the while turning a blind eye to the wince-inducing violence and malevolence it is forced to endure.

And then there was this.

“Daddy, do you like my picture? It is a bunch of fish in a tank. See?”

“Yeah, baby, those are pretty fish.”

“Dis one’s a shark. Dis one’s a piranha. Dis one is a bastard.”

“Huh? That one is a shark and that one is a piranha and that one is a what?”

“A bastard.”

“The word is bass, baby. It’s a bass.”

“Yeah. A bass. Dat’s what I meant.”