August 7th — In July, I took my kids to the movies. We saw “Wall-E,” which was about the most depressing, G-rated movie ever, despite the fact there is barely any dialogue. I mean, I know Bambi’s mother died in a horrendous, PG-13 forest fire, but at least soft Bambi has those cute ears and sweet nose and sweet bunnies hop through the glen spreading good cheer.

Instead, I paid hard-earned money to watch a movie that featured animated robots squeaking to each other in some unintelligible computer-ease against the backdrop of a deserted Earth that has become uninhabitable due to an overload of trash. Oh, and there was one lone cockroach as metaphor. Really.

I know Al Gore probably loved the movie, but I hated it.

To make matters worse, the humans who do enter the picture are so gross and overweight that their soft little bowed legs can’t support them so they jet around their starship on these little personal hovercrafts sipping meals in a bottle and getting dumber and fatter with each passing generation. Really.

I know the ending was supposed to provide us with feelings of hope and redemption, but all those environmental sub-messages were lost on my kid and simply served to put me in a funk as I sat in an artificially cooled, windowless, concrete movie theatre in a overdeveloped strip center eating popcorn coated in fake butter from a tub coated in plastic which will take a least a hundred years to biodegrade in the landfill.

So my kids have concluded that if we litter, we’ll have to take a spaceship and go live in space for a few hundred centuries and we’ll get pudgy and get to motor around in these cool little machines and sip cheeseburgers from a cup.