So this story in the New Yorker has me wondering about the purposes behind our actions. See, it's about The Hills, and it hypothesizes that people watch The HIlls to figure out why they're watching The Hills. Meanwhile, a Michael Pollan piece in the Times Magazine advocates you lower your carbon footprint by growing your own food in a cooperative community garden so as to pretend as if it actually matters to the universe that you, insignificant person who does not matter to the universe, are lowering your carbon footprint. This makes a certain kind of nonsense, because I'm about to ride two tortuous Chinatown bus hours to cast a ballot in a primary election I have Powerball-esque odds of ultimately affecting.

I also always tip at Starbucks and donate $5 to the March of Dimes at K-Mart and say the "Hail Mary," even though the "Hail Mary" is the most boring prayer ever, when I hear sirens. I think I could get into community gardening, even though it wouldn't matter, and I don't even think I would even feel that much less "detached" from everything like Pollan promises, since I don't really like vegetables and would probably survive on Snickers bars instead.