I don't think Mother Gaia actually gives a rodent's patootey one way or the other whether the denizens who scurry about her surface foul their nests or not. When the food and the water and the air are sufficiently poisoned we will die. Mother Gaia will never notice one way or the other that we are gone. We've had a good run, and we aren't done yet, every day is a good day to live and every day is
a good day to die.

When the village started to stink too much and the game was hard to find the old ones packed there sh*t and moved a few miles. We've stunk up everything and have noplace left to run.
It's justice in a way. The poetic kind.

Good coffee, good weed, and time on my hands...