It's 7:57 pm and I've turned on all the light sources in our apartment (which add up to the meager number of 12 totally) and thrown in the oven just for the heck of it (hoping the Vanillekipferl turn out to be reasonably edible).
Take that, you people who thrive solely on symbolic action.

The whole ordeal was actually quite straining, considering the fact that I grew up in happier times of second-wave environmentalism when eight year olds were gently coerced to spend their pocket money on obscure WWF-products by primary school teacher Uschi and everybody bought their milk in glass bottles. Since then I'm convinced to loose a part of my soul whenever I fail to switch off the standby mode of a washing machine.
Oh, the power of education.

Thankfully it left me with an holistic outlook on planet preserving. For all it's worth it doesn't bother me a bit to see furry baby mammals get clobbered over the head, as long as the equilibrium of the ecosystem stays put (which it clearly doesn’t).