Bucky McMahon.

I’m thinking, you know, it was good shit, plastic. It answered a myriad of ‘how to’ questions, and thus occasioned a fabulous efflorescence, an unprecedented burst of wealth. Maybe plastic was Death disguised as Santa Claus—something for everyone from the ever-expanding plastic sack—but certainly this would be a tough planet without the plastic used in our technology. Maybe a good motto for homo sapiens as a species is, Live fast, die young, and leave a pretty archeological record. Our stratum will be a bright, shiny smear of plastic.

I’m not a fan of plastic.