Stove

Two inch stove pipe is as hard to find as white meat chicken salad. After some investigation this stove I have will only work properly with stove pipe attached. Don't ask me why an empty hole won't draw air, but it doesn't. The fire goes out when I put the lids on. But with pipe there is suction and oxygen and the air doesn't fill with smoke around my crusty eyes.
I'm excited and hesitant as another episode of A&E's "Intervention" has me wondering if I've taken Al Gore's words too seriously. Shouldn't I ignore Lester Brown's "sky is falling" prophecy? I could get stoned and work at the robot factory like the other employees. I might even own a mobile home in a few years at the rate of $40 a week. Not bad. But I'm unsatisfied with that future and so launch into an unprecedented voyage in a stove-equipped 1969 Econoline van into the tundra of Quebec and Labrador. I've heard rumors of these places but never seen them with my own eyes and I've learned those are the only way I learn anything. Still, is my gallivanting a cry for help or is the vacuum of silence I hear in response to my plea for the Arctic Wolf proof that it is not I who needs to rectify his worldview? That's really what it comes down to. If there is a place on earth that does not raise wage slave puppets then that's where I want to be. If that is the natural end of Mankind then it is indeed me who has run aground on the sandy shores of philosophical extremes. Basically, are we truly at a turning point or have I amplified the dangers in my head and been brainwashed by Naomi Klein to the point that my cause has become my worst enemy? Because one answer has me alone in a padded wall. The other answer has me outside the padded wall looking in at Microsoft's obedient workers. Either way there is no return of my serve.